tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84239162767272645102024-03-14T00:04:47.893-05:00lynnehybels.comlynne hybelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770393832000915864noreply@blogger.comBlogger149125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423916276727264510.post-45507361433891317282014-07-16T05:47:00.000-05:002014-07-16T05:47:23.103-05:00What I Said to Syrian Refugee Women
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<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><i>A version of this article appeared in Sojourners Magazine, July 2014.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><i>In May 2014, after several days of visiting Syrian refugees in UN camps and in temporary homes throughout Jordan, I was invited to speak of the love of God to two hundred Syrian refugee women in an urban community center. Heartsick by what I’d seen throughout the week, I had already begun writing in my journal an “open letter to Syrian refugees.” That letter became this talk that a dear friend from Palestine translated into Arabic for me. </i> </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">I wish I didn't have to stand up here in front of you. I would rather sit beside you on a cushion on the floor and have a cup of tea with you. I would like to snuggle your baby in my arms. I would like to hear your story. I know you have a sad story and if I heard it, I would weep—as I have with some of you this week.<br /><br />I know you are good and loving women. I'm sorry you have lost so much. I'm sorry you had to come to a country, a city, and a house that is not yours. <br /><br />I can imagine you in your own country, strong women serving others. I can imagine you making beautiful food and sharing it with your family and friends. I can imagine you caring for your mothers and daughters, fathers and sons, sister and brothers and friends. Just the way I do. <br /><br />Because that's what women do. We are compassionate. We give. We serve. We protect. We work hard to make the world better for the people we love.<br /><br />Wherever I go in the world, I discover that we women are very much alike. We may have different clothes. Different hair. Different language. Different culture. Maybe our skin is a different color. But in our hearts, we are the same.<br /><br />That's why we can look into each others' eyes and feel connected. We can talk without using words. We can smile. We can hug. We can laugh.<br /><br />And sometimes, we can feel each other's pain. I have prayed that God would help me feel your pain. I wish I could remove your pain. I wish I could help you carry it. <br /><br />Last night while I prayed for you I remembered a story about Jesus Christ. In the story a woman who had been suffering for many years came to Jesus. She was sick and nobody could help her. Nobody could heal her body or comfort her mind. People had given up on her. They were ignoring her.<br /><br />But she believed the Christ could heal her, if she could just touch his robe.<br /><br />So she pushed her way silently through the crowd that followed Jesus. She was afraid he would turn her away if he saw her, so she stayed in the shadows. And finally, she touched his robe.<br /><br />Immediately he stopped. "Who has touched me?" he asked. "Power has flowed out of me. I want to know who touched me!"<br /><br />She was afraid, certain he was angry and would punish her; but she felt compelled to answer. "It was me," she whispered. "I am the one who touched you." The crowd hushed, anxious to see what this great man would do.<br /><br />Jesus simply looked at her—right into her eyes. Then he said, "Daughter, your faith is great. Your faith has healed you. Go in peace." <br /><br />When I read that story I wondered why Jesus stopped, why he forced that frightened woman to speak up. I prayed to God to help me understand. <br /><br />This is why I think Jesus stopped: I believe he wanted her to know that he saw her. She wasn't just an anonymous person in a huge crowd. She was an individual woman. And he saw her.<br /><br />He knew she was suffering, and that broke his heart. He called her daughter so she would understand how much he loved her. He said she had great faith in God, and He honored her for it. Then he healed the wounds of her body and soul. <br /><br />As a Christian, I believe Jesus shows us what God is like. He shows us that God sees each of us as individuals. He calls us daughters because he loves us. He honors our faith because He knows it can make us strong. He cares when we suffer. He wants to bring healing, comfort and peace into our lives.<br /><br />Some verses in scripture tell us that Jesus weeps, which means that God weeps too. He weeps for all his suffering daughters. <br /><br />I wish I could end the war ravaging your country.<br /><br />I wish I could gather all the money in the world to help make your lives easier.<br /><br />I wish I could bring back all you have lost. <br /><br />I can't do any of that, but I can do this:<br /><br />I can go home and tell what I've seen: how you are suffering and how amazing Jordanians are walking lovingly with you during this time of hardship. Both you and your Jordanian friends need the prayers and support of American Christians. I will tell my friends that. <br /><br />I will also tell my friends how beautiful and strong and loving you are. I will tell them you are women of deep faith in God. Women who adore your children as I adore mine. Women who sacrifice willingly for those you love.<br /><br />I will tell them that when I look into your eyes, I see that we are sisters. <br /><br />I will not forget you. I will pray for you. I will tell your stories. I will weep when I hear anew of your suffering. And I will rejoice over any goodness that comes your way. <br /><br />Truly I will not forget you. God has placed you in my heart. <br /> </span>lynne hybelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770393832000915864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423916276727264510.post-41870891956226424842014-07-09T06:59:00.000-05:002014-07-09T15:58:05.387-05:00Palestinian, Israeli and American Women: United in Prayer<style>
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In Israel and the
West Bank, an organization called <a href="http://www.musalaha.org/"><span style="color: blue;">Musalaha</span></a> (Arabic for <i>Reconciliation) </i>brings
together Israelis and Palestinians who are committed to establishing
relationships of trust and friendship so they can become agents of
reconciliation impacting their respective communities. On several trips
to the Holy Land I have met with women of Musalaha. One memorable meeting
is captured in an earlier <a href="http://lynnehybels.blogspot.com/2012/10/crazy-with-hope.html"><span style="color: blue;">blog.</span></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null"><span style="color: blue;"> </span></a><br />
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</span><b><span style="font-family: "inherit","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Following the
discovery of the bodies of the three Israeli teens recently murdered, the
Musalaha website <a href="http://www.musalaha.org/?page_id=28"><span style="color: blue;">published this note </span></a>from Palestinian Christian, Shireen
Awad Hilil, Coordinator of Musalaha Women’s Department, West Bank:</span></b><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "inherit","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We, as the
Palestinian Sisters involved in Musalaha, want to express our condolences on
the loss of life of three young Israelis and the pain that their families and
communities are feeling. We have been, until now, standing with you in
prayer, awaiting the return of the young men, and some of the ladies have been
in touch to express that commitment. We are committed to staying in
relationship with you and will continue in our path of peace and
reconciliation. The Palestinian women of Musalaha do not condone any acts
of violence and honor life and peace together with the Israeli people. </span></i><span style="font-family: "inherit","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "inherit","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Hedva Haymov, a
Messianic Jew (Jewish follower of Jesus), Director of the Women’s Department
for Musalaha in Israel, <a href="http://www.musalaha.org/?page_id=28"><span style="color: blue;">added these words:</span></a></span></b><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "inherit","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I was greatly
troubled throughout this ordeal of searching for 3 young men. We have
prayed daily in the office for innocent victims of the latest tragedy. I, and
the women of Musalaha in Israel, also send our condolences to the families who
lost lives on both sides. We seek and will continue to move towards peace
with our brothers and sisters in the Body of Messiah. We feel the pain of
all families, either Palestinian or Israeli, who have suffered throughout this
rise in the cycle of violence. Our condolences are sent out to both
communities. </span></i><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "inherit","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Let our discussion in
these heated days be not of retribution, but of reconciliation. Let us refrain
from joining the crowds around us calling for blood and call instead on the One
who has made peace between us. </span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "inherit","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Let us push forward
even harder and faster for the good of each other and the opportunity to bless
each other.</span></i><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "inherit","serif";">Then Hedva added
these words to her Palestinian and Israeli friends: I welcome you to join
together in prayer on the 11<sup>th</sup> of July from 9am until 1pm. </span></b><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "inherit","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In follow-up emails
with Shireen and Hedva, I’ve discovered that on Friday, July 11, there will be
gatherings of Israeli and Palestinian women (Israeli Messianic Jews and
Palestinian Christians) scattered throughout Israel and the West Bank, joined
together in prayer. <b> </b></span><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
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</span><b><span style="font-family: "inherit","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Shireen and Hedva
have invited us, American women committed to Jesus and to peace, to join them
on prayer on Friday. </span></b><span style="font-family: "inherit","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "inherit","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The women in Israel
and the West Bank will begin fasting on Thursday night, join together for
prayer on Friday from 9am to 1pm, and end their time together with lunch before
heading home. </span></b><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "inherit","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Hedva sent these
requests for prayer:</span></b><br />
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<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">A calming of spirits and cessation of violence</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">A just and lasting peace</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">All murderers to be brought to justice</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">All violence to be stopped</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">That we will be a calming influence in
our communities</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "inherit","serif"; text-indent: -0.25in;">That if we have to suffer, we do so out
of no fault of our own, and have the courage to face it</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">That the volunteers coming to work at
the summer camps will be kept safe</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">That the children attending our summer
camps will be safe</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">That the words we speak will be full of
grace</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">That God will hear our prayers </span></li>
</ol>
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<b><span style="font-family: "inherit","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">To Hedva's prayer
list, I add the names of Israeli and Palestinian friends I've gotten to know
through numerous trips to the region, many of whom live in regions under
violent attack right now. </span></b><span style="font-family: "inherit","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">People
from France, Holland, UK, Australia and others have committed to join in the
Friday prayers. <b><i>Let’s add American women to that list! </i></b></span><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></div>
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</span><b><i><span style="font-family: "inherit","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Since Hedva and
Shireel wrote the words I quoted earlier, violence in their land has
escalated, along with fear and division. The voices of those who work and
pray for reconciliation and the cessation of violence have become increasingly
important. Let’s join them, to make their voices stronger. </span></i></b><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: "inherit","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Together or in small
groups, let’s commit a portion of time on Friday July 11, to fast and pray for
and with our Israeli and Palestinian sisters. Some of you may want to chart the
time difference and pray "live" with our Middle Eastern friends. Others may choose to pray according to your own time zone, thus
spreading global prayers throughout the day. </span></i></b><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "inherit","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I know of many
Muslims and Jews also committing themselves and their communities to prayers for
the cessation of violence in the Holy Land. I am grateful for them. </span><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "inherit","serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I will add updates
from Hevda and Shireen as I receive them<b>. </b></span><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></div>
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lynne hybelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770393832000915864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423916276727264510.post-75084275157172301592014-07-01T07:08:00.001-05:002014-07-01T07:08:58.329-05:00Thanks to you, Lisa is going to school!<br />
Four days ago I told the story of Lisa, a survivor of horrific sexual abuse from the time she was two years old until she was rescued at twenty. You can read more about her on my previous <a href="http://lynnehybels.blogspot.com/2014/06/what-do-you-do-when-world-breaks-your.html" target="_blank">blog</a>. When I heard Lisa's story, I couldn't imagine that the next chapter of her life would include losing her student visa, being forced back to her home country, and giving up the dream she's been working for so diligently. So, I invited you to join me in helping Lisa raise the $25000 she needed by today. Well, thanks to many people who gave and prayed and gave some more, Lisa is going to school! Here's a personal note Lisa wrote last night when the final funds were tallied:<br />
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<i>I don’t know how to say “thank you” to each person and individual who has contributed to my education fund so I can finish my schooling and stay safe. Right now, my tears are flowing freely - gently cascading off my face. I am touched and so grateful. <br /><br />My entire existence in this world has been based on terror; the terror of captivity in the sex slave trade, as well as the constant fear that I would be made to go back to my home country due to lack of funding. Through your donations though, my visa will not expire. Because of you, tonight, freedom has been handed to me. I can stay safe, as well as finish my education. I never dreamed that God would provide in this way, but I am seeing over and over again that miracles do happen. From the depths of my heart - thank you for my freedom!!!! </i><br />
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Many thanks to all of you who Tweeted and Re-Tweeted, and told your friends Lisa's story, and prayed, and hit that little "donate" button. A lot of little actions added up to one huge blessing!<br />
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<b>May this be how we live each day, open to ways God might want to use us to meet the needs of his children! </b><br />
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<br />lynne hybelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770393832000915864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423916276727264510.post-39433257435883170172014-06-26T09:48:00.002-05:002014-06-27T20:41:51.278-05:00 What do you do when the world breaks your heart? (Or, You won't believe Lisa's story!) <div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 14px; min-height: 17px;">
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Recent world news is making me sad and sadder. Suffering of the people and places I’ve been recently connected with—in the Middle East especially—is escalating by the day. <b>I feel helpless and weary.</b> I won’t stop working on their behalf, planning trips to visit Israeli and Palestinian peacemakers, and writing grant proposals for Jordanian and Lebanese organizations serving Syrian and Iraqi refugees. <b>But the suffering is all so big and horrific and ongoing. I won’t stop caring; I won’t stop working; but at the moment, I feel overwhelmed.</b></div>
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<b>Do you ever feel that way?</b></div>
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<b>I started reflecting on what I should do with the anxiety I feel for the world. Is there a way to channel this energy into something good? </b></div>
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Maybe that’s why I latched onto Lisa’s story: <b>the story of one girl with an immediate need that could actually be met in just a few days.</b> Lisa was sexually trafficked at age two—by her own father. She was forced into prostitution and suffered unimaginable abuses for twenty years. Miraculously, she survived and at 22 was rescued by police. For safety, Lisa fled to the US, used her new freedom to earn her GED and found scholarship programs that allowed her to attend college on a student visa. For three years she maintain a phenomenal GPA of 3.96 with a major in psychology, and a growing dream of one day helping survivors of human trafficking find hope and healing. </div>
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We always hear about the big picture of human trafficking and what needs to be done on national and international levels to fight it. And that's important. But sometimes an opportunity comes along to address it in a nitty-gritty, grassroots, very personal way. That brings me back to Lisa—and one more hurdle she has to face. She recently discovered that unless she raises the entire funds for her senior year <b>BY JULY 1</b>, she’ll lose her student visa and be sent back home. Once before this happened and she was abducted and returned to prostitution. Those who know her fear that if she’s sent home again she’ll die at the hands of those who trafficked her. </div>
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Some young woman from my church are part of an organization called <a href="http://www.gridlockministries.org/" target="_blank">Gridlock Ministries</a> that helps girls like Lisa create a meaningful life after being rescued. Gridlock is working hard to raise Lisa’s scholarship money. On their <a href="http://www.gridlockministries.org/Lisa.html" target="_blank">website</a> you can read more about Lisa and also make a tax-deductible donation to Lisa’s scholarship fund. In order for Lisa’s student visa paperwork to be processed in time, <b>all the funds need to be raised by July 1</b>. </div>
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<b>I’ve just donated $1000 to Lisa’s fund</b>. What if everyone who reads this blog donates something? $10? $20? $50? I know how easy it is to read blogs like this and think, that’s great, I’m sure lots of people will donate. Frankly, <b>I’ve discovered that not many people actually do donate—they “like” and “favorite” and maybe even “retweet.”</b> <i>But we could actually give Lisa the future she’s worked so hard for if we hit <b>“<a href="http://www.gridlockministries.org/Lisa.html" target="_blank">donate</a>.”</b></i> </div>
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As soon as I post this blog, I’m going back to my Syrian refugee grant proposals and to reading a great book on the long, slow process of peacemaking. I’m committed to the long-haul engagement with our broken world. </div>
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<b>But every now and then I need to grab hold of something that’s readily doable, fixable, changeable! Like Lisa’s college tuition! </b></div>
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Come on. Join me. <b>Hit <a href="http://www.gridlockministries.org/Lisa.html" target="_blank">donate</a>! Then, for Lisa’s sake, forward this blog to your friends, or retweet about it. Let’s safeguard Lisa’s future. Let’s help her become the world-changer she wants to be!</b></div>
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<i>*Lisa’s name has been changed in order to protect her. </i><br />
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The work of Gridlock Ministries is endorsed and recommended by:<br />
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<b>Chicagoland</b><br />
Brenda Myers-Powell, Cook County Sheriff's Dept. Prostitution Intervention Team<br />
Terri Kraus, West Chicagoland Anti-Trafficking Coalition<br />
Bob Brabenec, Wheaton College International Justice Mission Chapter<br />
Frank Massolini, Anne's House<br />
Tyrone Staggers, Salvation Army<br />
Anne Rand, Willow Creek Compassion and Justice Ministry<br />
Anny Donewald, Eve's Angels<br />
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<b>San Diego</b><br />
San Diego Police Dept. Anti-Trafficking Division<br />
Carina Hinton, San Diego Regional Human Trafficking Advisory Council<br />
Crystal Anthony, North County Lifeline (first-responder team)<br />
Susan Johnson, Churches Against Trafficking<br />
Susan Munsey, Generate Hope<br />
Jamie Gates, Point Loma Nazarene University Center for Reconciliation and Justice<br />
Bill Wells, Mayor, El Cajon, CA</div>
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lynne hybelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770393832000915864noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423916276727264510.post-90168684173634483652014-05-12T19:04:00.001-05:002014-05-12T19:04:30.914-05:00The Syrian Eyes That Haunt Me<i>The NYTimes today reports that nearly 3 million Syrians have fled their country, becoming refugees in surrounding countries. Approximately 100,000 men, women and children are fleeing Syria each month. Many refugees live in UN created camps, but the majority live in urban areas outside the camps. While many were well-educated professionals, university students, or middle-class families in Syria, they fled with almost nothing. Now, desperately poor, they depend on the good will and generosity of strangers. For decades Jordan has welcomed refugees: Palestinians, Iraqis, and now Syrians. I have been humbled by the generosity and loving care I have seen in the last week. </i><br />
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When I went to Congo the first time, I met a woman named Charlene. Her husband had been killed by rebels in Congo's civil war, leaving her with eight children to raise alone, and forcing her to flee to a makeshift camp for displaced people. Then, while foraging in the woods for firewood, Charlene was brutally raped by a soldier. When I met her, her baby born of rape was two weeks old. Charlene slid into my heart five years ago--and remains there.<br />
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This week in Jordan, I met my Syrian "Charlene"--a gentle, soft-spoken women who rocked slowly from side to side on a thin floor cushion, lulling a toddler to sleep in her arms. Her name is Amoneh: a beautiful name for a beautiful woman.<br />
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Amoneh's three oldest sons were out scrounging for rent money by cleaning bathrooms or hauling produce; despite their best efforts, the family lives on the edge of eviction. Amoneh's remaining children crowded around her in the small room that is their temporary home. Like many refugee moms, she has received no word from her husband in Syria for many months. <br />
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Amoneh looks far too young to be the mother of eleven children, but she is. She lives next door to her cousin and his family, because she feels safer with a male relative near. However, she won't let her young children out of her sight. "I don't want to lose them," she says quietly. Her simple statement tells a story beyond our imagining. She has lost so much. <br />
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I knew the minute I sat down beside her that I would never forget her. There was something serene and elegant about her, but her eyes were like wells of pain. I am haunted by those eyes. I remember Charlene's eyes too. There was pain, yes, but also a touch of holy defiance; a hint of righteous indignation that strengthened Charlene and added the slightest glimmer to her eyes. But in Amoneh I saw no defiance, no indignation. Just pure pain. <br />
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We asked if we could pray with her. She welcomed it, so my Arabic-speaking friend prayed for her. I've made too many trips like this to cry every time my heart breaks. But as we left Amoneh's little room, the tears fell. We left a large box of food to help her family through the next few weeks. But it is a drop of water in an ocean of need.<br />
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The Jordanian pastor and his wife with whom I visited Amoneh and several other Syrian families believes his church has been prepared specifically to serve these refugees. His church is in a "rough" neighborhood; friends often challenged him to move to a "better" neighborhood. "Now I know why I never felt right about moving," he says. "We need to be here to respect, love and serve these people who have suffered so much." <br />
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Last night my pastor friend and his wife sat with a woman who had just learned that her husband had been killed in Syria. It wasn't Amoneh, but it could have been. Just as there are many "Charlenes" in the DR Congo, so there are many "Amonehs" among the hundreds of thousands of Syrian refugees in Jordan.<br />
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As I prepare to leave Jordan this evening, I pray the prayer I have so often prayed: <i>God, what is mine to do? </i><br />
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When I'm home with a rested mind and better internet access, I'll highlight some of the organizations I saw walking humbly and lovingly with Syrian refugees. In the meantime, will you join me in that prayer?<br />
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lynne hybelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770393832000915864noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423916276727264510.post-87712874381570880522014-05-06T09:31:00.001-05:002014-05-06T09:31:06.190-05:00Crossing from the West Bank into JordanFor several days I've been in Israel-Palestine, visiting old friends and making new ones. I love coming to this land, not so much to see the traditional holy sites as to step into the holy space of listening and learning. That space always transforms me and I am grateful I get to return to it again and again.<br />
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But today, something new: I'll be crossing from the West Bank into Jordan, for nearly a week of listening and learning from Syrian refugees and from those who are walking with them through this time of displacement and suffering. For nearly two years I've been gripped by the stories coming out of Syria. I've raised money for Syrian refugees; a tiny bit, a drop of water in a vast ocean of need. Sadly, experts suggest the horrors of Syria's war will only get worse; no one seems to know how to stop this violence playing out in the bodies of innocents men, women and children. <br />
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There are plenty of shocking statics I could cite here. In the coming days and weeks, I'm sure I'll share many of those. But as I prepare my heart, mind, soul for Jordan, it's not numbers I'm preparing for; it's faces, stories, tears, and perhaps some smiles. Smiles. Two years ago I took a group of women to the Democratic Republic of Congo, another conflict zone, another place of violence played out in innocent human bodies. We prayed that in some mystical way (beyond human explanation) our "presence" could create a space of healing for people we met. That prayer was answered. We had encounters that seemed bathed in a kind of holy magic. And we saw smiles--not quick, light-hearted smiles, but shy, slow smiles, prompted, we hoped, by a tiny hint of hope. <br />
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Will you join us in prayer?<br />
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lynne hybelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770393832000915864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423916276727264510.post-19343163886005230492014-04-08T04:27:00.000-05:002014-04-08T04:27:44.762-05:00A Few Words of Beauty<i>These words are from <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Beauty-Will-Save-World-Rediscovering-ebook/dp/B006NZH978/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1396949097&sr=8-1&keywords=beauty+will+save+the+world" target="_blank"><u>Beauty Will Save The World: Rediscovering the allure and Mystery of Christianity</u>,</a> Chapter 3 "Axis of Love," by Brian Zahnd. I am loving this book. </i><br />
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<i>"</i>Pilate was right; the cross <i>is </i>truth. But not the truth of pragmatic violence; rather the cross is the truth of co-suffering love . . . Never again could the principalities and powers that enforce their will by violence claim God's endorsement. Never again! They had been exposed, and God had been revealed. God is beautiful. God is love. God is like Jesus. God has always been like Jesus. We have not always known this . . . but now we do. Jesus had said that if he was lifted up in crucifixion, he would draw all people to himself. The event of the crucifixion gave the world a new ordering axis, a new ultimate truth, a new centering point--and it is love. The love of God was fully displayed in Christ at the cross when he forgave the world for its sins. If we want to know what God is like, we now point to Jesus on the cross forgiving a world that has rejected him, and we say, 'There! That is what God is like!' And having now been vindicated in resurrection, Christ is drawing humanity into a new orbit, an orbit around himself and his redeeming love. All of this is beautiful. It is the beauty that saves the world." <i> </i><br />
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Enough said....lynne hybelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770393832000915864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423916276727264510.post-45310139402031627552014-01-12T14:00:00.001-06:002014-02-20T04:05:00.392-06:00Syrian Refugees, Wardrobe Enhancement, and 2014<b><i>Update: My friend, Matt Brown, and I raised $21,000 for Syrian refugees; funds are currently being dispersed in Jordan and Lebanon. Because of the ongoing desperation of so many Syrian refugees, I will continue this funding campaign throughout 2014. 100% of the money donated will go to grassroots Christian ministries meeting refugees' physical needs within the context of ongoing, loving relationships. For security reasons unique to the region, I cannot publicly identify these partners, but I will be providing periodic updates from them in my blog. You can help by writing a check to </i>"A2 Ministries</b>,"<b> which is the Hybels Famly nonprofit; in the memo write "Syrian Refugees." Send the check to A2 Ministries, c/o Lynne Hybels, 774 Summer Isle Lane, Barrington, IL 60010. You will receive a tax-deductible receipt and %100 of your donation will go directly to servant-heroes in Jordan and Lebanon. For more information--read the blog!</b><br />
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<b> </b>A year ago I started reading news reports about the humanitarian crisis faced by millions—literally—of Syrian refugees chased by ongoing civil war across the borders of their country into Turkey, Lebanon and Jordan. <b>Analysts described it as the biggest humanitarian crisis in decades, and first person reports put faces to the men, women and children suffering displacement, violence, and trauma</b>. <i> </i><br />
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<i>I have to do something, </i>I thought, but I didn’t. Months later a young Christian leader I knew only via Twitter asked me to help him plan a fundraiser for Syrian refugees. <i>Okay, let’s do it,</i> I thought, but we didn’t get the kinks worked out of our plan. Last August I had hoped to donate funds from my <span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: blue;"><b><a href="http://lynnehybels.blogspot.com/2013/09/i-paddled-for-congo-maybeican2013.html" target="_blank">#MaybeICan2013 kayak challenge</a> </b></span></span>to Syrian refugees. <i>Great idea, I thought,</i> but after I donated my promised $10k to Congo, there was nothing left over for Syria. In November I was scheduled to visit Syrian refugees in Jordan. <i>I’ll launch a fundraising campaign after that</i>, I thought, but the trip was cancelled. <br />
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So much for good intentions—until my young Christian leader Twitter acquaintance, Matt Brown, <span style="background-color: blue;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-color: black;"></span></span></span>sent me an email shortly before Christmas. “I’ve got to do the fundraiser,” Matt wrote. “I’d appreciate your help, but with or without it, I have to do this.” <b>You can read the story of Matt’s passion for Syrian refugees<span style="color: blue;"><a href="http://www.wcablog.com/2014/01/shoes-for-syrian-refugees/" target="_blank"> here</a>.</span> </b><br />
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I was impressed that a young man who, by his own admission, had never been particularly tuned in to humanitarian needs, was so determined to respond to what he believed was a call from God. So, Matt put together a crowd-funding page and used his social networking expertise and connections to get the word out about Syrian refugees. I used my personal relationships in the Middle East to identify grassroots Christian ministries in Jordan and Lebanon that are serving Syrian refugees. Because of security concerns for Christian organizations operating in some places in the Middle East, these organizations can’t afford to have a media presence.<br />
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<i>Great, I thought. We’ve done it! Surely we will meet our $10,000 goal in just a few days. Once people realize that thousands of families are desperate for basic needs like food and shelter, they’ll give. Once people discover that children are facing a record cold winter without warm clothes and shoes, they’ll give. Once they learn that women and girls are being kidnapped into sex trafficking, they’ll give. </i> <br />
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But here’s the thing: <b>people really haven’t been giving.</b> Not much, anyway. And that frustrated me. Okay, more than that. It made me kinda mad. I mean, what’s with people, anyway?<br />
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Then I remembered: It took almost a year—and rather insistent nudging from Matt Brown—to move me from thought to action. I also remembered that I don’t donate to a lot of causes I know about—not because I don’t care, but simply because I can’t give to everything that comes along. Who am I to point a finger at others? Who am I to judge people because they haven’t given to my particular cause? So, no more pointing fingers or judging. <br />
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<b>However, I'm going to issue a challenge—and I'm accepting it myself—drawn from my experience with Congo. </b><br />
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In December 2008 I heard an NPR radio report on the horrific civil war in Congo—about the over 5 million people who had been killed, the hundreds of thousands displaced, and the thousands of women and girls raped as a weapon of war. I was shocked. I knew I had to do something, and I had to do it right away before I got sidetracked. I did some research and discovered an organization through which I could sponsor a woman who had been brutally raped, so she could receive trauma counseling, medical care and job training. Immediately I signed up for a 12-month commitment. I was also prompted to do something that I didn’t quite understand, but I did it anyway. <b>I decided that for the entire year of 2009 I would buy no clothing and I would donate the money I saved to Congo—which I did. </b><br />
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Let me admit that I’m not in a profession where I have to “dress for work,” I have never spent much on clothes anyway, and I actually don’t like to shop. So, it wasn’t like I was making a huge sacrifice. Still, I did have a number of international trips and speaking engagements that year, which usually make me nervous enough to do whatever I think might help me feel more adequate or prepared--including "wardrobe enhancement." But in 2009, no wardrobe enhancement. No money spent on new clothes. This did, in fact, give me extra funds to send to Congo. <br />
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But here are other things that happened as a result of that little decision: <b>Every time I thought about something I’d like to buy I thought about Congo. </b> Every time I watched a TV ad for clothes, I thought about Congo. Every time I dressed for a speaking engaged and wished I had something new to wear, I thought about Congo. Thinking about Congo naturally prompted me to pray for Congo. Praying for Congo inspired me to do additional research into humanitarian interventions in Congo. Research connected me with <span style="color: blue;"><b><a href="http://worldrelief.org/standforcongo" target="_blank">World Relief,</a> </b></span>who was doing amazing on-the-ground work in Congo. Connecting with WR opened the door for me to travel to Congo and fall in love with Congolese people. Falling in love with Congolese people….well, you get the idea. <br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><b>Not buying new clothes for a year was about a lot more than not buying new clothes for a year. </b></span><br />
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So. Syrian refugees. <b>I have decided that 2014 would be another good year to forego wardrobe enhancement. </b> And I pray to God that this little decision will prompt me to greater thought and prayer and action on behalf of Syrian refugees. <br />
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Want to join me? If you don’t feel a nudge to give to Syrian refugees, I understand. And if not buying new clothes for a year doesn’t seem like the right challenge for you, fine; I get that. <b>But might there be something else you could do or stop doing in 2014 that would help your heart and mind be more open to God’s world? Might there be some other cause or need that beckons you to make a sacrifice or a change so you can be more responsive to that need? </b><br />
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<i>I’d love to hear what comes to your mind as you consider these questions. </i><br />
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And, if you feel so lead, <b>I would welcome your contribution. Write a check to "A2 Ministries," and send to:</b><br />
<b>A2 Ministries </b><br />
<b>c/o Lynne Hybels</b><br />
<b>774 Summer Isle Lane</b><br />
<b>Barrington, IL 60010 </b><a href="http://www.indiegogo.com/projects/shoes-for-syrian-refugees" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;"><b></b></span></a><br />
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lynne hybelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770393832000915864noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423916276727264510.post-90689231294405583992013-12-15T07:40:00.000-06:002013-12-15T07:40:54.370-06:00A Prayer for the Poor in Spirit<i> A prayer of Oscar Romero</i><br />
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"No one can celebrate<br />
a genuine Christmas<br />
without being truly poor.<br />
The self-sufficient, the proud,<br />
those who, because they have<br />
everything, look down on others,<br />
those who have no need<br />
even of God--for them there<br />
will be no Christmas.<br />
Only the poor, the hungry,<br />
those who need someone<br />
to come on their behalf,<br />
will have that someone.<br />
That someone is God.<br />
Emmanuel. God-with-us.<br />
Without poverty of spirit<br />
there can be no abundance of God."<br />
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<i>God, help me realize how poor</i><br />
<i>I am. Poor at loving, poor at discerning,</i><br />
<i>poor in wisdom, poor at choosing</i><br />
<i>obedience, poor in generosity,</i><br />
<i>poor in seeking You. And so you</i><br />
<i>come to me. To me. Emmanuel. </i><br />
<i>With your abundance of all I need.</i><br />
<i>Thank you. Thank you. </i>lynne hybelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770393832000915864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423916276727264510.post-31341650628140791792013-12-08T09:21:00.000-06:002013-12-08T18:52:37.188-06:00The Israeli-Palestinian Conflict: Six Things I Believe<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>This paper was presented to a gathering of Palestinian Christians, Israeli Messianic Jews, and American Christians and Messianic Jews on December 5, 2013. </i></span><br /> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">In 2010 I spoke at the first <i>Christ at the Checkpoint Conference</i> in Bethlehem. I gave a talk called “It’s All About Jesus: A Personal Journey.” I chose that title because my engagement in the Holy Land was a very personal attempt to follow in the way of Jesus. I had been spending considerable time in the region and was brokenhearted by the suffering that resulted from ongoing and often violent conflict. I believed that what Israelis and Palestinians, Jews and Arabs, needed most was to see Jesus incarnated in his followers in the Holy Land. I came to <i>Christ at the Checkpoint </i>with the desire to encourage and lift up the Christians in the land. To stand in solidarity with them. <br /><br />I had learned by that time that this issue could be theologically controversial. I was still caught off guard, after my talk, when a Messianic Jewish theologian from Israel told me he believed I had totally violated scripture by talking about the plight of the Palestinians. He reminded me that God had given the land to the Jews, and if the Palestinians were suffering it was because God’s will regarding the land was being violated. If I thought the treatment they were receiving was unjust it was because I didn’t understand God’s purposes in the world.<br /><br /><i>It was a very awkward and disturbing conversation. </i><br /><br />Now, fast-forward two years. In 2012 I spoke at the second <i>Christ at the Checkpoint </i>conference. Again that same Messianic theologian approached me afterwards. I assumed we would again have an awkward conversation. <br /><br />But instead, he said, “Thank you for that talk. That was a great talk. In fact, I think you should give that talk to some of our Jewish congregations.” <br /><br /><i>What happened during the two years separating those conversations?</i> <br /><br />What happened in me is that a very wise friend—actually a Palestinian Christian—challenged me to spend as much time with Israelis as I had been spending with Palestinians. <br /><br />So I began doing that. In subsequent trips I met with secular mainstream Jews. I met with people in the Israeli peace movement. I ate Shabbat meals with Orthodox families. I talked with Israeli families who’d lost children to the violence of suicide bombers. I listened to the perspective of Messianic Jews. Perhaps most significantly, I walked slowly through the halls of Yad Vashem, the Holocaust Memorial in Jerusalem. <br /><br />In my second talk in Bethlehem, I described those experiences.<br /><br />I also said, “I will never bring a group of people to visit Israel and Palestine again, without taking them to Yad Vashem. How can we begin to understand this place without holding the reality of Jewish history in our conscious awareness?” <br /><br />So, my heart had been broken on a deeper level for the Jewish people and that came through in my talk—and made a difference to the Jewish theologian.<br /><br />What also happened during those two years was that the Jewish theologian spent time with Palestinians in the West Bank, and he actually saw the reality of their daily lives. He said to me, “I still support the State of Israel and believe the Jews have a unique role to play in God’s redemptive plan. <i>But the kind of injustice I’ve seen in the West Bank, and that you have described in your talk, is unconscionable. It can’t continue.</i> But few Jews actually know what’s going on here.”<br /><br />That story—of those two very different conversations—is so encouraging to me. I’ve been similarly encouraged by many people with whom I may disagree on some points of theology, but for whom I have the deepest respect, because they manifest a level of compassion and wisdom that challenges and humbles me. Honestly, when it comes to my engagement in the Holy Land, I’ve been blessed by gracious mentors from many different directions. <br /><br />At the same time that I’ve been encouraged, however, I have also been greatly discouraged—especially recently—by the increasing number of blogs and articles and emails written about or to me that question not only my theology, but my motives, my calling, and my intelligence. <br /><br />I’ve been called a threat to the state of Israel, a subtle (and therefore extremely dangerous) anti-Semite, a spokesperson for the PLO, and a Christian Palestinianist who traffics in anti-Israel propaganda and historical misinformation. <br /><br />And I’ve been described as part of a massive effort in the heart of the evangelical church to lure its members—especially its youth—away from the pro-Israel position God commands to an uncritical and unbiblical support for Palestinians. <br /><br />I am not new to the world of criticism. Forty years ago my husband and I started a church in a movie theater where we used drums and guitars in worship. We were immediately denounced by the evangelical establishment that called us a cult and warned its young people to stay away from us. Since then, we’ve taken plenty of other actions that many people deemed worthy of criticism. Generally we don’t respond to our critics, unless they approach us personally. If we responded to every anonymous or public criticism, we would have little time to do anything else. <br /><br />But, rightly or wrongly, I feel that I need to respond to the criticism related to my involvement in Israel and Palestine. I’m choosing to do it in this setting, not because I believe my harshest critics are here; I don’t think they are. But the recent criticism has challenged me to strip down my message and say very clearly what I mean and what I believe about the conflict. I’m doing it here because this is supposed to be a forum where we can speak honestly, if we do so carefully. <br /><br />I want to clarify that I’m not speaking on behalf of my husband, my church, the Willow Creek Association, World Vision, The Telos Group, or any other organization with which I might be associated. I am speaking strictly as an individual. <br /> <br />In the next few minutes I’ll make six “This Is What I Believe” statements. Each of these statements deserves extensive discussion, which we don’t have time for today. So this is basically an outline, which needs to be developed more fully in another setting. <br /><br />1. I believe it is possible to be truly pro-Israeli and pro-Palestinian at the same time. On my first meaningful trip to the region both Israeli and Palestinian leaders said, “This is not a zero-sum conflict; in the Holy Land, nobody wins unless everybody wins. Either Israelis and Palestinians learn to live together, or we will die together. If you’re here to pick a side, go away. We don’t need that kind of help. But if you are willing to figure out how to be a common friend to Israelis and Palestinians, then we welcome you.” <br /><br />With each trip I make to the region my commitment to that perspective grows. <br /><br />When I say I’m pro-Israeli, I mean that I support the existence of the State of Israel as a home for the Jewish people. I want Jews to be able to live there without the fear of rockets falling from Gaza, or suicide bombers attacking civilians, or any other kind of violence against them. In a world in which anti-Semitism is, tragically, still alive and well, I am thankful for the State of Israel. The fact that I may disagree with some of the policies of the government of Israel doesn’t mean that I’m anti-Israel or anti-Jew, anymore than my disagreement with certain policies of the US government means that I’m anti-US or anti-American. <br /><br />When I say I’m pro-Palestinian, I mean that I believe the Palestinians have an equally valid right to live in the land and should have the same civil rights that are afforded to Israeli Jewish citizens, whether that’s in one state, two states, or however many states. I believe Palestinians should be free from military occupation. They should be able to travel freely between their own communities, engage in commerce, and have easy access to the outside world. <br /><br />2. I believe that if we want to engage in the Holy Land as peacemakers, we must recognize that Israelis and Palestinians have very different, and often conflicting, histories and narratives, each of which must be sought out and respectfully heard. I have been accused of trading the Jewish narrative for a false Palestinian narrative. I have to say, I just don’t understand that accusation. How could two groups of people on opposite sides of a violent conflict <i>not</i> have different experiences of what happened, and different memories? <br /><br />When you pay attention to both narratives, it’s easy to understand why the Jews would want a homeland and why they feel they have a legitimate claim to the Holy Land based on biblical promises. And it’s easy to understand why the Palestinians feel they have an equally valid claim on the land based on centuries of residence in the land. <br /><br />Certainly, either narrative can be mythologized and distorted and used to demonize the other. So, part of our task as people seeking peace is to listen with a discerning ear, to study well, to question what we hear, and to learn from a wide variety of people. <br /><br />About year ago in Bethlehem I had just such an opportunity. I attended a meeting of Palestinian women, both Christian and Muslim. There were two speakers at the meeting. One was an Israeli Messianic Jew who traveled into Bethlehem, actually breaking the Israeli law that forbade her to go into the West Bank, because she was so determined to meet with these Palestinian women. The other speaker at the event was a Palestinian Christian woman. Each of these women, in turn, described the typical narrative that is commonly held by her people, and then she critiqued it. <br /><br />The Jewish women said, “You won't like what I'm going to say, but this is what most Jews believe. They believe that Jewish violence in the war of 1948 was purely defensive; Jews were simply defending themselves against Arab aggressors. But before you get mad at me, I need to tell you that I realize that is not true. The tragic truth is that in 1948 many Arabs were aggressively forced from their land and/or brutally killed by Jewish fighters.” She said, “Admitting this makes me pretty unpopular with some Israelis, but we must be open to self-criticism.” <br /><br />The Palestinian woman described some of the hardships of the occupation, but then she said, “We Palestinians tend to think that all our problems are caused by the occupation. But that’s not true.” She said, “We must accept culpability for allowing a victim mentality to dominate our actions and for making many poor choices along the way that have hurt us collectively.” That was hard for some of the Palestinian women to hear, and they discussed it at length. But at the end of the meeting they asked to meet again so they could continue such discussions.<br /><br />It was such a privilege to be able to sit in on that meeting. How admirable, how wise, how courageous, for these women to be willing to listen to the narrative of the other and also to critique their own. Surely, they are laying a foundation for peace, and modeling that for all of us. <br /><br />3. I believe biblical theology leaves room for Jews and Arabs to live together as neighbors and equals in the land. I recognize there are differing theologies of the land, based on differing hermeneutical approaches. These differing theologies often appear to be at odds when it comes to the question of who rightly belongs in the land that we call holy. <br /><br />I hesitate to speak about this because I’m not a theologian, and I can’t enter theological battles. But I so appreciate a book written by two people who will be speaking here: Salim Munayer (Palestinian Christian) and Lisa Loden (Messianc Jew). They edited a book called <i>The Land Cries Out</i>, which includes essays by a wide variety of Messianic Jews, Palestinian Christians, and a few international voices. There are many different theologies of the land presented in this book, but because most of the writers actually live in the land and deal with the complexity of reality, they speak with the careful, nuanced voices that complexity requires. <br /><br />Some of the essayists make a strong case that the birth of the modern State of Israel in 1948 and the ingathering of the Jews to the Holy Land is a fulfillment of Old Testament prophecy that’s tied to end time events and the second coming of Christ; other essayists have different ways of looking at that. But running throughout all the chapters of the book was an image of Jews and Arabs, Israelis and Palestinians, living together in the land in peace. <br /><br />For some of the writers (including both Palestinian Christians and a number of Messianic Jews), that peace could conceivably be manifested, to a degree anyway, in the two-state solution that is being discussed in current peace talks. For others, that vision of peace is for a time far in the distance, when Jesus’ Kingdom is here in fullness. <br /><br />But what strikes me as critically important is that people with different theological perspectives, who are willing to look at reality honestly and think carefully, can envision Jews and Arab living peacefully and equally as brother and sisters. <br /><br />4. I believe that the ongoing military occupation of the West Bank and the continuing blockade of Gaza is a violation of human rights; as such, it deeply harms the security, freedom, and dignity of both peoples. The very fact that I use the word “occupation” has led some people to judge me as an enemy of the State of Israel; they have told me the only “occupation” is the one perpetrated by the Arabs who are occupying the land of Judea and Samaria that belongs to the Jews. <br /><br />I won’t try to argue with the religious logic behind that claim, but I will say that I know many Israeli Jews who believe that the occupation is wrong; that it violates their Judaic ethic; that it breeds hostility and undermines security; and that it has to end. <br /><br />Just last week I read an op-ed by an Israeli journalist, an American Jew who moved to Israel as an adult because she loves Israel and wants to live there. She wrote, “Why can’t ‘pro-Israel’ mean anti-occupation, support for human rights, equality, democracy for all peoples under Israel’s control? Why should we perpetuate the conflict, by supporting Israeli government policies that perpetuate the conflict?” She suggests, in fact, that that’s about “as anti-Israel as you can get.” <br /><br />Some of my critics say that people who talk like the woman I just quoted, are left wing radicals that we as Christians should not be aligning ourselves with, or they’re self-hating Jews who should be silenced. I can only say that I’ve met some left wing radicals who are also ardent Zionists who seem to be wise and compassionate people and who, in their words, are patriots who are fighting for the soul and security and integrity and future of their country. I may be wrong, but I respect them and I think their voices ought to be heard in America. <br /><br />5. I believe that any violence against civilians, whether carried out militarily or through guerrilla tactics, is illegal under international law, damages prospects for peace, and should be stopped immediately. I want to state that clearly, because my critics have asked why I don’t spend more time talking about Islamic extremists and Hamas and the battle between Muslims and Christians. Part of my reason is that I think we hear plenty about that. I have no desire to give more airtime to the voices of violence. <br /><br />The other reason is that I’ve traveled to the Holy Land specifically in search of those who are committed to nonviolence, forgiveness and reconciliation. Interestingly, those voices of peace have come from a variety of directions. While I believe Jesus is the Prince of Peace whose power will ultimately unleash peace, I have met Muslims and Jews, who may or may not give any conscious consideration to Jesus, but who seem to be living out Jesus’ ethic of peacemaking. In fact, they often challenge me to take Jesus’ way of living more seriously. As I get to know them and become friends with them, I pray that the gentle community we create will become a space in which Jesus can do his best work of healing, redeeming, and transforming each of us in the ways we most need. <br /><br />6. While I do pray for the peace process that’s now going on, and I hope there is some positive outcome from that, I acknowledge that our work for peace is not dependent on what happens in official, political peace talks—not because what happens politically is not important, but because what happens on the grassroots level of relationships is even more important. And we are all positioned perfectly to make a difference there, as we build little enclaves of peaceful relationships from which peace can bubble up. <br /><br />Several weeks ago, thirty American, Israeli and Palestinian women met for two days in Washington DC. We were Christians, Muslims and Jews, religious and secular, youngish and oldish—united by our commitment to human rights in the Holy Land. <br /><br />Some of the Palestinian women had been criticized by their friends in the West Bank for attending a meeting with Israelis, their oppressors. Some of the Israeli women had been criticized by their friends for attending a meeting with Palestinians, their enemies. Some of the American women showed up at the meeting licking wounds sustained from journalists who wrongly judged our character and motives. <br /><br />So, there was a rather high degree of emotional "rawness" in the gathering. While that rawness could have pushed us all to put up protective barriers, it actually had the opposite impact. There was an unusual level of honest communication and vulnerability, with Israeli and Palestinian women talking about the fears they have for their children and the loneliness they often feel as women committed to peace and reconciliation. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">There was a particularly profound connection between a young Palestinian woman and an older Israeli woman. They were both psychologists, highly educated and articulate, but neither could quite contain their emotion as they spoke. <br /><br />The young Palestinian woman described what it was like to send her teenage son through a checkpoint, knowing that he would feel frustrated and humiliated; she feared that the humiliation, repeated over and over again, would turn him into an angry young man, maybe even a violent young man. She tried to keep him away from checkpoints, but she couldn’t keep him locked in one little neighborhood. So she feared for his future.<br /><br />The older Israeli woman described what it was like knowing that her teenage grandson was an IDF soldier, standing at a checkpoint with a gun in his hand, terrified of using the power of that weapon, and yet terrified not to. She didn’t want him to become the oppressor, but he was. She feared what that would do to him, inside. <br /><br />The two women agreed: “We are both victims of this conflict, this occupation, this ongoing tragedy. We are both victims of the fear that sets our people against each other.” <br /><br />Then the Israeli woman spoke out of the wisdom of her years: “But look at us here,” she said, “in this room. Today we talked about our fear, and instead of fear driving us apart, it has brought us together. We need to keep talking with one another, deeply and honestly. We need to use this fear to draw us together.” I have to tell you there was magic in that room. I have nothing against men, but I’m not sure that magic would have been felt in a roomful of men. <br /><br />The only thing that saddened us was knowing that, despite the wonderful connection we had in Washington DC, once the Israeli and Palestinian women went back home there would be no place for them to meet—except, one of them joked, at a checkpoint. Interestingly, that idea of “pitching a tent of meeting at a checkpoint” became sort of a metaphor for our remaining conversations that day. I wouldn’t be surprised if it continues to describe our future meetings. <br /><br />I'm telling you this because I left that gathering deeply moved by the potential women have to establish healing relationships, and to advocate for human rights in a profoundly personal and captivating way. <br /><br />One thing we speakers were asked to do in our presentations today is to share what we believe we can do for the sake of peace. I have concluded that one of the most valuable things I can do is to create more and more connections between Palestinian, Israeli and American women—which will be my focus in the future. <br /><br />Mother Teresa said, “If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other.” <br /><br />My goal will be to remind American and Israeli and Palestinian women that we do, in fact, belong to each another, and together we can do a work for peace that we could not do without each other. <br /><br />That is my vision for the future. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> <br /></span></span>lynne hybelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770393832000915864noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423916276727264510.post-14682756767023032452013-11-18T15:01:00.000-06:002013-11-18T15:34:21.541-06:00Evangelicals and Gender Equality<div style="min-height: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b></b>by Lynne and Bill Hybels</span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">Recent twitter conversations about gender equality (or lack thereof) in evangelical churches reminded me of an article Bill and I wrote some years ago. This article first appeared as a chapter in </span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Changed-Mind-about-Women-Leadership/dp/0310293154/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1384808678&sr=8-1&keywords=alan+johnson+how+I+changed" target="_blank">How I Changed My Mind About Women in Leadership: Compelling Stories from Prominent Evangelicals</a></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">, ed. Alan Johnson, 2010. </span></i><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>In alternate sections of writing, Bill and </i><i>I </i><i>highlight </i><i>our </i><i>respective experiences related to the role of women in life and ministry.</i><b><i> </i></b><i>I hope it will add a helpful voice to the conversation.</i></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">Bill: </span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">When I dropped out of college and traded my business major for a volunteer position as a youth pastor, I was long on ministry passion and short on theological training. All I knew was that young people in the early 70s were staying away from church in droves and missing out on what I believed to be the key to life—here and in eternity.<b> </b>I wanted to present the gospel of Jesus in ways high school kids would listen to and understand and respond to. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I went where God seemed to be leading—to a conservative, evangelical church in suburban Chicago—and shaped a ministry with a small group of students who were committed to reaching their friends who were far from God. The students were gifted and creative and the ministry grew rapidly. Within a few months, the intimate gathering that began in the church basement had to move upstairs into the sanctuary to accommodate the hundreds of students who were finding a spiritual home in what we called “Son City.” In order to maintain the sense of community that marked the original group, we broke the students into teams according to high school districts. Each team had two student leaders—one male, one female. We chose students who were committed Christians, respected by their peers and who exhibited clear leadership skills. Our approach to leadership was pragmatic; it seemed obvious that we needed male leaders for the guys to relate to and female leaders for the girls to relate to. In actual experience, it was easier to find high school girls who were spiritually mature and skilled in leadership than it was to find guys. From a practical standpoint, it would have been unthinkable not to allow girls to lead.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">In 1975, the high school youth ministry “birthed” a church for adults called Willow Creek Community Church. Many of the original student leaders from Son City, by then college students, became the leaders in the new church. Echoing the pattern established during the student ministry years, young men and women served in every ministry throughout the church. I have to confess that at that point I was not absolutely convinced theologically that including women in leadership was the right thing to do, but neither was I convinced that it was prohibited. It seemed appropriate, therefore, to maintain this pragmatic approach we had established in Son City. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">In the early years of our church, the Willow Creek elders and I were content to proceed on this path, with an open mind theologically and with careful observation of how the Holy Spirit seemed to be operating in our midst. However, the increasing visibility of Willow in secular and Christian media forced us to define and articulate our position. Questions began pouring in about why we “allowed” women in leadership. <i>Did we have a rational defense for our position? </i>In response, we commissioned our elders to do an intensive, eighteen-month scriptural study of the issue of women in leadership. I did not feel it was right to sideline the women whom God seemed to be using while we did this study, so we pursued a parallel track of study and continued observation of how God worked among us through the leadership efforts of both men and women. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Dr. Gilbert Bilezikian, a Wheaton College professor and Willow Creek elder, led the study. The conclusions of the study were published in 1985 in Bilezikian’s book, <i>Beyond Sex Roles: What the Bible Says about a Woman’s Place in Church and Family. </i>In summary, we concluded that before the Fall, men and women related to each other as co-regents, both bearing the image of God and called to join together in caring for the world he had created. Both men and women were responsible to fulfill their ministries of service for God’s glory in the manner God had gifted them and to the degree to which they had been apportioned faith. Tragically, in the Fall, this cooperative relationship between men and women was deeply wounded. We believe God’s gracious plan for redemption is that everything that was broken through sin—including the relationship between men and women—might be restored to the beauty that existed during the first days of Creation. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Many devout, intelligent Christians disagree with our conclusions. There will come a day when we will all find out the degree to which we have veered from God’s perfect wisdom, in this issue and many others. Until then, I hold this position humbly, yet firmly. I am willing to take the risk of encouraging women to do what I believe scriptures ask of them—to make themselves fully available to the full range of spiritual gifts. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">As a result of that eighteen-month study, we adopted non-gender-based giftedness as one of Willow’s core values. By the time we took this stand officially, we had hired some male staff members who claimed they were willing to honor women in leadership, but in daily practice they subtly used their influence to denigrate women in leadership positions. Our elders ultimately decided that staff members who could not wholeheartedly serve under women leaders would have to find another place to minister. That decision was necessary to preserve the unity and harmony of our staff. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Over the last three decades I have had the pleasure of standing on a church stage and introducing women teachers, knowing that the congregation was about to hear a message inspired and empowered by the Holy Spirit. I’ve sat in elder meetings and listened while godly women brought wisdom and discernment to bear on complex issues of church discipline. I’ve bounced ideas back and forth with gifted businesswomen who provided thoughtful perspectives on the fiduciary matters of the church. I’ve listened to church members tell stories of transformation that occurred as they sat under the pastoral care of female small group leaders. I’ve watched women and men stand side by side as they served communion and collected the offering and led worship. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I’ve seen the sparkle in the eyes of young women as they ponder the various models of godly women they see in our church: faithful wives, devoted mothers, committed friends, grandmothers, single women, businesswomen, stay-at-home moms, professional ministers, active volunteers—women of all ages, marital status and race who use their gifts of hospitality, administration, mercy, encouragement, faith, teaching, leadership—whatever. These are women who know the challenge and joy of making themselves wholly available to God. Women who take their life and their gifts seriously. Women who pray earnestly to discern God’s direction. Women who challenge themselves to learn and grow and equip themselves so they can respond faithfully to God’s calling. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">When I speak at conferences around the world, I am grieved by how often I hear women say, with tears in their eyes, “I can’t find a place to use my gifts in my church. What should I do?” Many of these women have tried for years to fit into the roles traditionally available to women, but they’ve felt frustrated and ineffective. <i>What’s wrong with me?</i> they wonder as they watch other women serve joyfully year after year. Eventually, women like these often give up on the church and commit themselves to volunteer leadership roles in the community or challenging positions in the marketplace. This is a massive and tragic loss to the local church and to the kingdom of God around the world. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">At this point in my life, I can’t imagine doing senior leadership in a church without the full participation of women at every level. I wouldn’t want to make important decisions without the world and life view that women offer. You learn something by being a mom that you don’t learn by being a dad. You experience something as a little girl growing up in church that you don’t experience as a little boy. As church leadership teams, we need to view the church family from the perspective of both genders. We need the cross-pollination of ideas that can shape better ideas for the future. I don’t know how we can do this unless we have both women and men serving in every area of our ministry. </span><br />
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<b><i><span style="font-family: inherit;">Lynne: </span></i></b><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">While Bill and the Willow elders were exploring the theological issues related to women in leadership and determining how best to live out non-gender-based giftedness in the daily life of the church, I was feeling quite removed from the whole issue. I had never wanted to lead or teach—in the church or anywhere else. I went to college to become a social worker, but I was happy to give up a career in social work to become a pastor’s wife. I believed then, as I do now, that Christians have the extraordinary privilege of being part of God’s plan to redeem and restore everything that’s been broken by sin in God’s beautiful world. That includes fighting for justice for the poor and freedom for the oppressed. I dreamed of being part of a church that responded to the very real problems in our community and in the world. As a young woman of twenty-three, I had no clue what my gifts and strengths were, or how I could most effectively engage in God’s redemptive plan, but I had plenty of commitment. I was willing to do whatever God asked, whatever was needed.</span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">When we first started Willow, I participated in the music ministry, playing the flute in our band, and I loved that. I also wrote articles in church publications. I was a young mom so I started a ministry for other young moms.</span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">But as the church grew and Bill got busier, I had to pick up virtually all of the time-consuming practicalities of keeping a home and family going, which left me little time for anything else. And there were more miscellaneous demands that began to come my way—people to see, calls to make, meetings to schedule, gatherings to plan. Eventually, my life became focused on household chores, secretarial tasks, administrative details and entertaining.</span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">For some women, that would have been a dream life. But I increasingly found myself hating life. And I really didn’t know why. I concluded I was just a selfish, demanding person who was not willing to do what God had asked me to do. I tried to change my attitude, but I grew increasingly miserable. The more unhappy I became the more guilty I felt and the more I confessed my sin. For years I was convinced that I was a really bad Christian. Finally I went to see a Christian counselor, hoping she could help me develop a more godly attitude. </span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">Shortly after starting counseling, my counselor asked me why I looked at the world through Bill’s eyes. “I don’t,” I said, and then spent the next year proving that I did. </span></i><i><span style="font-family: inherit;">For months I could not answer the counselor’s questions without voicing Bill’s perceptions, values, insights and opinions. It would have been comic if it weren’t so sad. I knew far more about Bill than I knew about myself. I knew his gifts and temperament, his strengths and weaknesses, his needs and desires, his passion and calling, his dreams, his recreational interests, his long-range goals, his preferred spiritual disciplines. But I knew none of that about myself. </span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">There were many reasons why that was true. Certainly, a main one was that Bill’s ministry was so demanding and so fruitful that I gradually slid into believing that my life couldn’t possibly matter as much as his did. What was important was to keep Bill going, to make his life manageable and facilitate his ministry. </span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">Bill didn’t ask for that, but it’s what I perceived as right. I grew up in a time and place in which the underlying attitude was that a woman’s highest calling was to support her husband. If she didn’t have a husband, there was probably some other man somewhere who needed her help or her service. </span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">I would never have voiced that perspective—and certainly that was not the message I heard at Willow—but I’ve since discovered that mindsets we adopt as children can impact our behavior long after our adult minds have repudiated them. While I wouldn’t have said that my life didn’t matter, I ended up living as if it didn’t. </span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">I want to clarify something here. It wasn’t that I wanted a full-time career or ministry outside the home. I celebrate women who are able to do that, but with Bill’s work and travel schedule, even in a best-case scenario, that wouldn’t have been realistic for us—and that was truly okay with me. However, I couldn’t shake the longing I had to discover and use my true gifts consistently in some way.</span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">Now and then I got involved in some form of ministry I really loved. I served in our first ministry partnerships in Chicago, and went on some of our first serving trips to Latin America. I lived in an affluent suburb, but sitting in a squalid shanty town in Mexico passing out canned peaches to little barefoot kids was really where I felt most at home and most alive. </span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">But whenever my involvement in ministry inconvenienced Bill or the kids, or in any way kept me from living up to other people’s expectations—which it always did—then I would withdraw, back out, quit. And when I felt frustrated or angry about having to do that, I would confess my sin and my demanding spirit. </span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">I thought that was the right thing to do. I thought that denying my gifts and passions was part of what it meant to “die to self,” as scripture asks us to do. I didn’t realize there is a difference between dying to self-will and to sin, and dying to the self that God created and called me to be. </span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">It’s true we need to live according to the ebb and flow of seasons, and our movement between ministry within the home and beyond it must shift according to those seasons. I think that’s true for both men and women, both fathers and mothers. And yes, there is a necessary sacrifice—a suffering even—that is part of the life of every servant of Jesus. We need to ask for grace and strength to endure those things. </span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">But, if year after year our lives are consumed with what we’ve not been gifted or impassioned to do, and we never have a chance to slide into the sweet spot of giving out of true self, we will pay a higher price in ministry than God is probably asking us to pay. </span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">As my counselor helped me look more honestly at my natural abilities and spiritual gifts, I realized why I was so frustrated. By nature, I am not a task-oriented person; I am not good at handling details or complexity; and I do not have one shred of the gifts of administration, helps, or hospitality. So for years, in deference to the goal of supporting Bill, I had shaped a life around gifts I didn’t have and I completely neglected the ones I did have.</span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">My true gifts are encouragement, mercy and discernment, so I would much rather deal with people than with tasks. My passion is to lift up those who are oppressed, which is why I always gravitated to Willow’s ministries with the poor. I also loved dealing with words and ideas and felt called to write, but writing requires time and solitude, neither of which I had. </span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">Obviously, at that point I should have made changes in my life, but I didn’t. Oh, I made half-hearted stabs at it—I talked to Bill and the kids about our need to handle responsibilities at home more equitably. I repeatedly considered getting administrative help for the church-related details that took so much of my time. But I didn’t do it. </span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">I just couldn’t bring myself to make the choices necessary to do that. Again, old mindsets die hard. It was years before I learned to value myself enough to believe that God’s call on my life was something I had to take seriously. It took me years to realize it wasn’t a sin to inconvenience other people—even my husband!</span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">What’s so sad is that when women fail to take their lives seriously, nobody wins. </span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">Bill didn’t win. He married me, in part, because he saw in me a level of confidence, competence and energy for life and ministry that he resonated with and fell in love with. But decades of denying my true gifts and passions drained me of the very vitality he was initially drawn to and left me feeling incompetent and insecure—not at all the person he had hoped to share his life with. So he didn’t win. </span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">Our kids didn’t win. They got a devoted, conscientious mother, who picked up after them and made sure they got their homework done. They got a mother who adored them, prayed for them, always wanted the best for them. But they didn’t get a happy mother. They didn’t get a fun mother. They didn’t get to see, up close and personal, a woman fully alive in God. </span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">My son needed to see that. But even more, my daughter needed to see that. She needed to see me operating out of strength and passion, and I couldn’t give her that. Fortunately, there were other women in her life who modeled that for her. And I am grateful that as I have chosen to lean into my own true life, I am now able to give her something I couldn’t give her before. But if I had it to do over, I would not have waited so long. I would not have robbed her of the model of an authentically alive mother. </span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">I also have to say my church did not win. Yes, my church needed Bill, and his gifts and his passion. He is an extraordinary pastor, and I never wanted to hinder what he could offer to our church. But our church needed me too, not because I am anything special, but just because that’s where God put me, and he put me there for a reason. There was a perspective and a dream—there were words and influence—that I believe God wanted me to offer to my church. But I didn’t show up. I didn’t value what I had to offer enough to actually offer it. </span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Most women I know are really good at giving. And we </i>should<i> be good at giving. We follow in the way of a Savior who gave himself for the world. But Jesus didn’t give himself indiscriminately; he didn’t give people everything they wanted. Jesus knew his calling from the Father; he knew the unique shape of the redemptive gift he was to give to the world. I believe that too many women give bits and pieces of themselves away, indiscriminately, for years and years, and never have the time or energy to discern their unique calling from God, never have the time or energy to play the redemptive role they are gifted and impassioned to play. The result is a lot of good-hearted, devout Christian women who are exhausted and depressed. </i></span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">Bill: </span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It’s not easy for me to read Lynne’s words. There I was, committed to creating a church environment in which women were free to use their God-given gifts, and yet my own wife was frustrated to the point of despair. Obviously, Lynne had internal issues related her to old mindsets. But I certainly didn’t make it easy for her to break out of the old pattern and make new choices. Everything about my lifestyle supported the traditional model of marriage and pushed her into a subordinate role. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Starting a church proved to be far harder than I had anticipated, so I was insanely busy, and the level of responsibility I carried at a young age produced continual and extreme stress. Anytime Lynne asked me to do even a small thing to help her, I felt burdened and impatient. The fact that I was earning an income to support our family, while her efforts at home as well as in ministry were always unpaid, contributed to devaluing her work. And, of course, because of my visible ministry, I was applauded and honored. Lynne heard again and again how powerfully God was using me. “It’s a good thing Bill has you serving him behind the scenes,” was a comment that repeatedly made her ask, <i>What’s wrong with me? Why am I not content? </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Clearly, freeing women to live out their God-given calling means more than simply rethinking theological views of women in leadership. It means valuing the contributions of all women, whatever their gifts. And clearly, it has implications for marriage. It means that a husband and a wife each bring their dreams, their passions and their gifts to the table and say, “How can we shape a life together that will honor the calling that we each feel from God?” Doing that requires mutual respect and mutual compromise and is extremely challenging. But God will be glorified when husbands and wives work together to honor and develop each other’s gifts and callings.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I love watching my children’s generation deal with this in ways<b> </b>Lynne and I couldn’t even imagine when we were newly married. My daughter is a writer and my son-in-law is a musician; they are both committed to their sons, committed to ministry and committed to helping one another nurture and use their creative gifts. The negotiations that make their marriage work are complex, but the result is an authentic sense of partnership in parenthood, homemaking, personal development and ministry. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The reality is that it’s easy to talk about this, but when it comes to execution and implementation, usually the guy just gets his way and the woman’s ministry gets squished. We men have to make arrangements and agreements in marriage to make it work for both spouses. </span><br />
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<b><i><span style="font-family: inherit;">Lynne: </span></i></b><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">I am writing this section of this chapter in a hotel room in a country in the Middle East where women, as I was told by a young man last night, “exist primarily for the amusement of men.” The Christian husband who spoke in those terms, did so as a lament, grieved by the pain his young wife experienced growing up, and by the pain pervasive in the lives of his countrywomen. I’m certainly not equating the role of women in Western evangelical churches with the plight of women in countries where they are viewed solely as objects for men’s pleasure. But being in this environment heightens my sensitivity to any situation in which women are not valued for the fullness of who they are, and are not encouraged to take seriously the full range of their potential contribution to the work of God in this desperately needy world. </span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">Earlier this week I sat at a long table with thirty young women who feel called to begin a ministry for poor women in the rural villages in their country. “We feel strongly that God is calling us to do this,” they said, “but we are so afraid. We’ve never been taught how to start a ministry or how to lead. But we can’t say no to God! Can you help us?” Interestingly, it was a male church leader who challenged these young women to start this ministry. “They’re such strong, godly, gifted young women,” he told me. “But we [church leaders] have never encouraged them, never challenged them, never inspired them. God has convicted me about this. We’ve been wrong. Our church needs these women. Our country needs these women. We need to empower them to lead.” </span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">Several days after meeting with the young women, I offered the morning message at a church in the same country. I didn’t ask to do that. Truth be told, I tried to get out of it; I agreed to do it only because of my deep respect and affection for the dear pastor of that church, who works against great odds to teach and model the love of Jesus in a very difficult situation. I decided do anything—even stand in front of his congregation and speak through an interpreter—to encourage this incredible servant of God in his ministry. I stood before him and his congregation humbly, overwhelmed by the responsibility of providing a biblical word of encouragement. </span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">Some time ago I attended a meeting of American church leaders gathered to discuss the decline of indigenous Christian churches in the Holy Land. I was one of few women in the room and had agreed to attend the group merely as a listener and learner. But I was not allowed to remain silent; because of recent meetings I had enjoyed with Arab Christians in Jordan, Egypt and the West Bank, my opinion was sought. Fighting the sense of intimidation I felt in a room filled with male scholars, I reminded myself of early Christian women like Junia, Priscilla, Phoebe and the unnamed women described in Romans and Philippians who labored beside Paul as missionaries for the early church. In a male-dominated culture, the gospel of Jesus freed them—and the spirit of God called them—to speak and lead and serve in order to help spread the Kingdom of God on earth. In their spirit of obedience, I sat in that gathering of men and spoke the truth of what I’d recently seen and heard, describing the plight of our Christian brothers and sisters in the Middle East. I didn’t seek the position of leadership and influence that I have, and I certainly don’t feel adequate to it, but I believe I must be faithful and diligent in using it as God seems to be leading. </span></i><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">Bill: </span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It’s ironic that in many ways Lynne and I are reversing roles. While I am logging less miles on airplanes than at any point during my adult life, Lynne is racking up frequent flyer miles with a vengeance. While I feel increasingly called to devote the majority of my time to the Willow home front, Lynne’s opportunities are taking her well beyond the walls of Willow and beyond the borders of the US. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Through Lynne, I’ve had the opportunity to learn two important lessons. First, that women who are freed and challenged and empowered to develop their gifts and pursue the passion planted in them by God do not become less loving wives or less devoted parents. On the contrary, they bring a greater level of joy and energy to every dimension of life. I can honestly say that now, during Lynne’s most intense and authentic ministry involvement, she is also offering her very best self as a wife, mother, grandmother, daughter and friend. I only regret that I did not help her discover this way of life years ago. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The second thing I’ve learned is that women are the greatest untapped resource in the world (to quote Lynne!). While it’s dangerous to divide men and woman into different categories of leadership based on gender differences, I do think that in the broad sweep women tend to be very good in collaboration and inclusiveness. They tend to look at leadership as a team sport and invite people into the process of shaping a vision. Women—broad strokes again—tend to breathe life into an organization through encouragement and celebration of small victories along the way. How desperately every organization on earth—from churches to schools to businesses to governments—need those qualities represented in leadership today. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">This places a heavy burden on those of us responsible for developing leaders and creating leadership teams. I want to end this chapter with four practical suggestions for how we can do that.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">1. <b>We need to be proactive about adding women to leadership teams</b>. Generally speaking, it’s easier to find qualified men because men have been given more opportunities to develop the necessary skills and experience. More men than women have been put in the leadership development pipeline. So naturally, when it comes time to reach for an emerging leader, there will likely be ten potential men for every woman who’s been adequately prepared. This means we must be driven by values as opposed to expediency. If we just go for the quick, easy hire we’re going to perpetuate this gender inequality indefinitely. This isn’t about tokenism. This is about getting the best leadership team for the organization. Part of that means having the broader perspective that gender diversity brings. Women who are new to leadership and/or teaching may require more coaching from senior leadership, but providing this coaching is a small price to pay for the benefits godly, gifted women bring to leadership and teaching teams. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">2. <b>We need to be very intentional in choosing the first woman (or women) we invite into significant roles.</b> In the early days of the student ministry, we were so blessed to have extraordinary young women with stellar character, relational maturity and strong leadership gifts. They weren’t banner-wavers and they weren’t trying to shove anything into anyone’s face. All they wanted to do was serve God with the gifts that God had given them. I very carefully selected the young women I felt would be most trustworthy with additional responsibility; I observed their leadership and then I added responsibilities when it seemed appropriate. I wanted to make sure I set them up to win because I knew people were watching them very carefully. I knew they were carrying the weight of paradigm-breakers. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I once talked with a pastor who went through a lengthy study process and became convinced that he needed to take a non-gendered view of giftedness and open the arena of leadership to women. Unfortunately, he didn’t apply the level of due diligence to his hiring process that he had applied to his study process. The first woman he chose to put in a leadership position turned out to be an unwise choice. Although she appeared to qualify in terms of giftedness and spiritual commitment, in practice she was emotionally immature, exhibited limited relational intelligence and operated with an intimidating level of aggressive behavior. While some people were quick to say, “See, that’s what happens when you put a woman in leadership,” I don’t believe it was a theological problem or a gender issue. It was a matter of character and immaturity. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>3. When we see women who are obviously not living up to their potential, we need to challenge them. </b>I’ve seen many women “play small”—hold back in meetings or turn down responsibilities—because they don’t want to be perceived as ambitious or power hungry. Whether that flows from false humility, fear, or pride, it’s not right. It’s wasteful to the Kingdom. If this were just about a corporation making a little less money because women aren’t using their skills and abilities adequately, that wouldn’t upset me. But we’re trying to change the world! In the church, anytime anyone—male or female—shrinks back from doing what God is calling them to do, the Kingdom is losing. I grieve that loss from a Kingdom perspective. Women need to be given the freedom to show up, and they need to have the courage to show up. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>4. We need to commit ourselves to diligent study on this issue.</b> Dealing with difficult issues is a matter of integrity. It’s worth it to wrestle with these issues because so much is at stake. Many gifted women turn to the academic world, to the corporate world, to the arts world, because the church does not give them the opportunity to serve as fully as they believe God has both gifted and called them. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">If you ultimately land on a more limited view of the role of women in church life, are you at least giving women every possible opportunity within the bounds of your theological framework? To the extent that you can, are you cheering them on in their life and ministry? </span><br />
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<b><i><span style="font-family: inherit;">Lynne: </span></i></b><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">Some years ago I spoke at a conference in Germany. For four days 180 Christian women leaders from all over Europe, many from Eastern European countries, gathered together to encourage one another in their various ministries. </span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">Day after day I was humbled by these women and by their stories. The week started with a pastor’s wife from Serbia telling us what it is like to minister in a setting where every night when you go to bed, you say to your husband and children, “I’ll see you in the morning, or I’ll see you in heaven.” She said prayer takes on a whole new meaning when you’re lying in bed listening to bombs fall. One evening two women from countries then at war with one another, publicly and personally apologized for the devastation created by their respective militaries and prayed together for their national leaders and for victims of war from both countries. </span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">All week long I heard similar stories from women in Rumania and Russia and Albania—inspiring stories of women pushing back the forces of evil—through heading up networks of prayer groups and neighborhood Bible studies, working in counseling centers, publishing Bibles, starting small businesses to assist single mothers. You name it, they were doing it.</span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">The last day of the conference was an outreach event open to any women in Europe. The women who had planned this outreach had virtually no experience in conference planning; they just sensed this call from God to try to impact the women of their country. A year earlier, when they had called me to ask if I would speak at the closing event, they said, “We’re hoping for 2,000 women.” </span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">In the months following, they periodically sent me update faxes. As the months went on, the conference registrations grew from 2000 to 4000 to 6000 to 8000. They said, “We don’t know what’s going on. We can’t figure this out.” They ultimately ended up in the largest facility in the center of the banking district of Frankfurt, with 10,000 women! </span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">One particularly poignant moment was when one woman from each of the 30 countries represented at the conference walked down the middle aisle of that huge conference center carrying the flag of her country. They all walked up on the stage and planted these flags around the foot of a gigantic cross, then knelt together in prayer. </span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">When it was my turn to speak, I began by saying that the thing I love about women is their intrinsic drive to break down barriers. With political leaders more concerned about personal ambition than the common good, corporate leaders captive to greed, and countries across the globe at war—here were 10,000 women saying, “There is another way. And it starts with us together at the foot of the cross.” </span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">I spoke that day about our need as women to break through the fears that keep us from living out the adventure that God has in mind for us, that keep us from becoming the difference-makers he intends us to be. I ended with the story of Esther, that Old Testament heroine who literally put her life on the line to follow her call from God. When she wavered because of her fear, a wise person challenged her with these words, “How do you know that you have not been created for such a time as this?” </span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">I believe that is a powerful call to women today. This world needs us to show up with the fullness of what we have to offer. It needs our strength. It needs our vulnerability. It needs our gifts. It needs our compassion. It needs our prayers. It needs our action. It needs our humility. It needs our leadership. </span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">May our churches become places where men and women alike receive the challenge, the encouragement, and the equipping necessary to be faithful agents of God’s redemptive plan. </span></i><br />
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lynne hybelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770393832000915864noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423916276727264510.post-62867060010274540792013-10-19T12:03:00.001-05:002013-10-19T12:03:44.179-05:00One More Reason to Love (And Buy) Punjammies<br />
<i>For years I've been a <span style="background-color: white;"><a href="http://punjammies.com/?utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=GLOBAL+SLAVERY+INDEX+REPORTS+HIGHEST+NUMBER+OF+SLAVES+IN+INDIA&utm_content=GLOBAL+SLAVERY+INDEX+REPORTS+HIGHEST+NUMBER+OF+SLAVES+IN+INDIA+CID_c5fa80a16f3310efc8f05ab2a784ff84&utm_source=Email%20marketing%20software">Punjammies</a></span> fan. And yes, I've been known to wear my punjammies in public with a cute t-shirt and flip-flops. <b>What's not to like about bold prints, comfy styles, and supporting women who have been freed from slavery?</b> I just received the email update below from "The International Princess Project" that produces Punjammies. There's bad news in this report: more people are currently enslaved than previous estimates had indicated. But there's good news too: "International Princess" is making a difference right where the incidence of slavery is the highest. My friend, John Richmond, quoted below, is a man of deep faith and professional expertise. You can trust his recommendation of "International Princess." Hope you enjoy your pumjammies as much as I enjoy mine! </i><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><i>UPDATE FROM INTERNATIONAL PRINCESS </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">BREAKING NEWS:<br />INDIA HAS GREATEST NUMBER OF MODERN-DAY SLAVES</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />Human trafficking is the fastest growing crime worldwide. More people each year are becoming aware of this reality, but rarely do we see such gut-wrenching evidence as in the first-ever <a href="http://www.globalslaveryindex.org/report/">Global Slavery Index</a>, released by The Walk Free Foundation just this week. The Index reports: "The country with the largest estimated number of people in modern slavery is INDIA, estimated to having between 13,300,000 and 14,700,000 people enslaved." It also estimates that there are 29.8 million individuals trapped in the ravages of slavery around the world, higher than researcher Kevin Bales' widely accepted estimate of 27 million.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br />This means nearly half of all the girls, boys, women, and men enslaved in the world are in India, where International Princess™ Project and our partners work passionately to bring freedom to those in bondage.<br /> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">We are right in the middle of the fight.<br /><br />My friend, human trafficking expert, and former Director of International Justice Mission's work in India, John Richmond says, "International Princess™ Project is right at the epicenter…at ground zero" of this global atrocity."<br /> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">I shudder to think of the day-to-day realities of those enslaved around the world. As clear as if it were yesterday, I remember the faces I saw as I walked through red light districts in India. Through air filled with hopelessness and despair, I heard the pitter-patter of little feet as the children of these young girls and women ran through their playground—a brothel.<br /> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Thankfully, there is another story as well. I have looked into the eyes of those whose freedom has been restored, and I have seen them sparkle. I have heard the laughter of girls and ladies whose lives have been redeemed. I have touched the faces of young children who now play in a safe community. And I have sat in the homes of families once caught in generational slavery whose freedom has ended the cycle!<br /> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">To every one of you who has purchased PUNJAMMIES™: YOU have helped make this change possible. To every person who has donated to and partnered with International Princess™ Project, THANK YOU for helping to bring freedom to those once enslaved.<br /> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">These new Global Slavery Index statistics only add fuel to the fire of our commitment, and we invite you to join us as we continue to fight human trafficking, end modern slavery, and bring the light of hope to those in darkness.<br /> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">For Freedom,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"> Julie Wood</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"> Executive Director</span><br />
<br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;">In partnership with the International Princess Project, we have the opportunity to: </span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></b><br />
<ul>
<li><b><span style="font-size: small;">Advocate for women enslaved in prostitution. </span></b></li>
<li><b><span style="font-size: small;">Restore their broken lives.</span></b></li>
<li><b><span style="font-size: small;">Empower them to live free. </span></b></li>
</ul>
<span style="font-size: small;"></span><br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;">You can check out Punjammies<a href="http://punjammies.com/?utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=GLOBAL+SLAVERY+INDEX+REPORTS+HIGHEST+NUMBER+OF+SLAVES+IN+INDIA&utm_content=GLOBAL+SLAVERY+INDEX+REPORTS+HIGHEST+NUMBER+OF+SLAVES+IN+INDIA+CID_c5fa80a16f3310efc8f05ab2a784ff84&utm_source=Email%20marketing%20software"> <span style="color: blue;"><span style="color: #674ea7;">here!</span> </span></a></span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;">Or donate to International Princess Project <span style="color: #20124d;"><a href="https://intlprincess.webconnex.com/donate">here</a>! </span></span></b><br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><b><span style="font-size: small;">Helpful Holiday Hint: My first punjammies were a Christmas gift from my daughter! </span></b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>lynne hybelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770393832000915864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423916276727264510.post-26825128939314535012013-09-07T07:19:00.001-05:002013-09-07T07:31:39.076-05:00A Prayer for Syria<style>
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</style> <i>As I think of the tragedy of Syria, where millions of Christians and Muslims are suffering today, I feel compelled to take the action of prayer and ask others to join me. This prayer was written by a wise and compassionate friend. </i> <br />
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"Living God, our world is brokenhearted by the atrocity of chemical weapons being used in Syria, killing children, women, and men indiscriminately. And our hearts grieve no less for the many tens of thousands killed and millions displaced by the civil war there. We pray for peace, God of peace: not just the cessation of conflict, but a new day of reconciliation, civility, and collaboration for the common good ... in the Middle East, and around the world. <br />
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We also pray for the United States, whose leaders are contemplating military strikes in retaliation for the atrocity, to punish those who ordered it, and to deter those who might plan similar atrocities in the future. We acknowledge that our leaders are trying to do what is needed and right, based on the understanding they have. But on this day, we ask for greater wisdom, greater understanding, greater foresight, so that we can find new, better, and non-violent ways to achieve lasting and profound peace.<br />
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We know from bitter experience that ‘our’ violence promises to end ‘their’ violence, but in the end, it only intensifies vicious cycles of offense and revenge. We also know from bitter experience that inaction and passivity also aid and abet evil. So on this day, we seek your wisdom, for a better way forward ... a new way that we do not yet see.<br />
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We Americans sense that our nation is on the verge of rethinking its role in the world. In this moment of rethinking, we also pray for guidance. Help us learn from past mistakes, and help us imagine better possibilities for the future. In this time of political tension and turmoil - not only between, but within our political parties - may your Spirit move like the wind and give us a fresh vision of what can be, so that we do not repeat old, tired, and destructive cycles of what has been. May the wisdom and ways of Jesus, upon whom your Spirit descended like a dove, guide us now - to a wise and responsible role as good neighbors in our world. Amen.’<br />
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<i>Written by Brian McLaren</i> lynne hybelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770393832000915864noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423916276727264510.post-38857256565358916882013-09-04T08:09:00.000-05:002013-09-04T08:09:05.438-05:00Urgent: Arab Christians Speak Up About Syria<br />
Geoff Tunnicliffe is Secretary General/CEO of the World Evangelical Alliance (WEA), which represents the evangelical Christian community throughout the world. He is currently in Jordan, speaking at a conference hosted by King Abdullah that focuses on the challenges of Arab Christians. The main speakers are Christian leaders from Egypt, Syria, Iraq, Jordan and Lebanon. <br />
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Geoff reports a major consensus among the Christian leaders in the region that any military intervention by the United States will have a detrimental effect on the situation, particularly for Christians in Syria. Christians in Syria have already been threatened by some opposition leaders, indicating that a different regime in Syria will not welcome Christians. Geoff asks: "Does the US administration have a plan on how to protect Christians and perhaps other minority groups in the event of a regime change?"<br />
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Geoff has long represented the WEA with a strong voice for peace, justice, human rights and freedom of religion throughout the world. Also at the conference to represent the World Evangelical Alliance were Mark Burnett (recent speaker at the WCA Leadership Summit) and his wife Roma Downy. Roma was the only woman speaker at the conference. I'm so grateful she was able to lift her voice on behalf of peace and justice. Thanks Roma! <br />
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Please pray today that our government leaders will have wisdom as they debate military actions in Syria, knowing that with such a complex and tragic situation, there is no perfect response. If you would like to speak up for restraint and diplomacy, you can do so <a href="https://secure.oxfamamerica.org/site/Advocacy?cmd=display&page=UserAction&id=1407">here</a>. <br />
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Also pray for the Arab Christian leaders now gathered in Jordan, that their voices will be strong and that they will be heard. I initially got involved in the Middle East at the request of Arab Christians who said, "American Christians don't understand the Middle East. Why don't they listen to us, to those who live here?" Please join me in listening to them as they speak this week. <br />
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<br />lynne hybelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770393832000915864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423916276727264510.post-50539145583445387712013-09-01T07:42:00.000-05:002013-09-01T07:47:39.088-05:00I Paddled for Congo! #MaybeICan2013<br />
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">This past June I casually mentioned
to some friends that I had decided to take up kayaking again. Immediately a friend
who loves to push people to be their best issued a challenge to me. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“If you will kayak along the Lake Michigan
coastline from South Haven to Saugatuck and then back to South Haven—a round
trip of 36 nautical miles (41.4 “land” miles)—I’ll donate $10,000 to your
favorite charity.” It was a <span style="color: black;"><a href="http://lynnehybels.blogspot.com/2013/07/maybe-i-can-can-you_13.html">challenge</a></span> I initially
tried to refuse, but ultimately felt compelled to accept. And so on Monday,
August 26, at 6:45 a.m., my friend Allie and I paddled out of the South Haven
channel and headed for Saugatuck.</span></i>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iuRvAIzZLig/UiMqwgc-DII/AAAAAAAABB0/edHzzZo8Jro/s1600/Image+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iuRvAIzZLig/UiMqwgc-DII/AAAAAAAABB0/edHzzZo8Jro/s400/Image+3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Local
fisherman—the unquestioned experts on Lake Michigan—describe that day’s waves
as steep four-footers, with winds of 12-18 knots. While the day didn’t start
out that way, I can vouch for the fact that it definitely ended that way. In
fact, by 9:00 p.m., it was even worse because rogue waves seemed to come out of
nowhere as the darkness descended. Unaccountably steep and from all directions,
they turned the lake into a “washing machine” of confused waves.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">I had checked
the weather forecast the previous evening, so I knew that Monday would not be
an ideal kayaking day. But the forecast didn’t look great for any day later in
the week either. For a variety of reasons, we had to do the challenge this
week, so why not try Monday? Our donor had already agreed he would still “pay
up” even if we had to do half the challenge (South Haven to Saugatuck) on one
day and the other half (Saugatuck back to South Haven) on another day. If we
paddled for a few hours and decided it was too rough we could stop and finish
it another day. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">So when Allie
and I kayaked out between the South Haven piers in the wee hours Monday
morning, it seemed like a reasonable decision. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">I had decided
to take this challenge on behalf of my friends in Eastern Congo (DRC). I would
donate the $10,000 to World Relief DRC for their work with grassroots peacemakers,
refugees who’d been forced to flee for their lives because of<a href="http://lynnehybels.blogspot.com/2013/07/the-worlds-forgotten-war_9848.html"> </a><span style="color: #3366ff;"><a href="http://lynnehybels.blogspot.com/2013/07/the-worlds-forgotten-war_9848.html">Congo’s ongoing war</a>,</span> and victims of gender-based
violence. Experts have called Congo “the most dangerous place on earth to be a
woman.” Every day, Congo’s beautiful, courageous women face threats I can’t
even imagine. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">The night
before we set out for Saugatuck, I received an email from a trusted friend in
DRC. Fighting between UN forces and vicious rebels had escalated; people I knew
were in immediate danger, as were the most vulnerable women and children in the
huge refugee camp near the city of Goma. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">So
what</i> if Monday was a rough day on Lake Michigan? It was a rough day in
Congo too. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">In fact, it
seemed the perfect day to paddle for Congo. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">During the
first half of the day, Allie and I had the wind at our backs. Even so, our
progress was much slower than we had anticipated. And then, just before we
reached the halfway point, the wind velocity picked up dramatically. We passed
the Saugatuck piers in a chaos of jumbled waves, elated that we had made it,
yet overwhelmed with the prospect of facing into that building wind as we
paddled home. </span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BglShZLiqTY/UiMrcM2ojkI/AAAAAAAABB8/aDlGhh6XH4g/s1600/Image+12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BglShZLiqTY/UiMrcM2ojkI/AAAAAAAABB8/aDlGhh6XH4g/s400/Image+12.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"></span><span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"></span><span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">We took a
short break to visit with my parents, who had come to Saugatuck to cheer us on
at the halfway point. Having spent much of the last year together as my dad battled
cancer, my parents and I deeply appreciate every experience we can share
together. Also, my dad had contributed uniquely to the day. Allie was using my
old kayak, which my dad had equipped with a custom-designed skeg </span><span class="MsoCommentReference"><span style="font-size: 9.0pt;"><a class="msocomanchor" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=8423916276727264510#_msocom_1" id="_anchor_1" name="_msoanchor_1"></a><span style="mso-special-character: comment;"></span></span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">in preparation for this day. A fin-shaped skeg is attached to the
underside of a small boat to improve steering.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Paddling along the coastline means that waves are always hitting the
side of the kayak, pushing it off-course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Without a skeg, a paddler wastes energy simply trying to go straight. When
Allie and I passed the half-way point at the Saugatuck pier, Dad had the
pleasure of knowing that Allie wouldn’t have been able to accomplish that
without his creative craftsmanship. </span>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">After our
short break, we headed back out into the waves. Unfortunately, it was
immediately obvious that despite the modifications my dad had made, my old
kayak was inadequate for the extreme conditions we now faced. Allie was forced
to drop out. From the time I planned this adventure I had expected to do it
alone, so Allie’s decision to join me was an unexpected encouragement. Her
paddling with me during the first half was a great boost and she was an
enthusiastic cheerleader on the chase boat until the very end. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">With the wind
continuing to build, Bill suggested that I stop, too, and do the second half on
another day. It made sense, but his suggestion also made me a little mad. I
felt good. How could I stop when I felt good? I decided that even if I had just
one more mile in me I had to keep going. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">I ended up
paddling for the next seven hours—and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">it
was crazy! </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Endurance
athletes could probably predict the highs and lows I experienced during those
hours, but it was all new to me. I’d never before pushed the limits of my
physical endurance, never reached a point where I was sure I could not keep
moving my body—and then pushed past that! <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I now understood how my daughter Shauna felt
several years ago after she ran the Chicago marathon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is profoundly empowering to do something
you never thought you could do.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">During the
first half of the challenge, while Allie and I paddled together, my son Todd
periodically came out on a power boat—the chase boat—to check on us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>During the second half, when conditions were
more severe and I was paddling alone, Todd stayed with me the whole way. “You’re
doing great, Mom,” he called out to me. “Only twelve miles to go. Three more
miles and you’ll be in single digits. You can do this!” Todd was a great
cheerleader. Generally a person of few words, he was generous with encouragement
while I paddled. “Awesome, Mom! You’re doing awesome! You just made it another
mile!” Amazing how those words inspired me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">I was
exhilarated when I felt the wind drop a bit at that twelve-miles-to-go point,
then devastated two miles later when it picked up again. I could describe in
detail each point along the way when it seemed that no matter how hard I
paddled I seemed to be going backwards. But each low was followed by a high
when something strong and unexpected kicked into my arms and I found myself
moving forward again. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">My husband
Bill was on a separate chase boat, coming and going throughout the day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I appreciated his effort in bringing my
parents to Saugatuck and then taking them back safely to the South Haven
harbor. Later in the day, at a crucial moment, he again motored back to land and got me a chocolate milkshake from Dairy Queen. I have not had a milkshake in years, but for some reason that's the only thing I craved for "dinner on the water" and it definitely boosted my energy. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">During one stretch I think I experienced what it means to be "in the zone." There was the perfect combination of being at the right angle to the waves, motivation from seeing a familiar landmark on the beach, and the hum of the chase boat behind me. For about thirty minutes I felt like a machine. I felt like I was sprinting. I knew the convergence of forces creating this energy was fragile and temporary, but I chose to enjoy it while it lasted. And I held it in memory later, when I was so frustrated with the conditions and with myself that I had to fight back tears. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"></span><span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Despite the
occasional dramas, there were long stretches when I could settle into a
paddling rhythm that allowed for reflection. I found myself asking two questions
over and over again: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Why am I doing this?
What does this matter?</i> </span>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">There was, of
course, an easy answer to the first question. I was doing this to raise money
for Congo. But throughout the day it became increasingly clear it was about
more than money. I felt an <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">intensity of
intention</i>—I don’t know what else to call it—that went well beyond thoughts
of what $10,000 could do in Congo. I became convinced that if the financial
incentive were eliminated altogether, I would still feel that same intensity,
that same feeling that, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I have to do this
for Congo. </i>That surprised me. What was that about? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Throughout
the day, I prayerfully recited names of friends in Congo—Marcel, Cyprien,
Charles, Dr. Monique, Charlene—and envisioned faces and photos and scenes from
my travels there. I wondered what was happening on the streets of Goma, in
Rutshuru, at the World Relief headquarters, in the various IDP and refugee
camps. Was the violence waning or escalating? Were my friends safe? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">To the “why
am I doing this?” question I settled on this answer: <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I am doing it as an act of identification and prophetic imagination.</i>
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">As I beat against the violence of these
waves, I am beating against the violence that rips apart Congo. As I set my gaze
against the wind, I am staring down the forces of evil and destruction. It is
paddling as solidarity. </i></span>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Does it
matter? Does an act of solidarity a continent away from atrocity make a
difference? I don’t know. Objectively, I suppose not. I have no illusions that
anything changed on the ground in Eastern Congo because I was paddling on a
lake in Midwestern America. Headlines tell me right now, even while I’m writing
this blog, about “heavy casualties as Congolese troops and UN forces pound M23
rebels near Goma.” Heavy casualties. That is terrible, awful, horrific news. My
paddling didn’t do a thing to stop that.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">And yet . . .
I had to do it. I had to keep paddling. At a certain point I knew I would stop only
if my body literally quit working or if darkness made continuing impossible. For
Congo, I had to keep going.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was
shocked by how deeply I felt that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Amazed by how connected I felt to Congo while I was paddling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-m_5_Y0tublU/UiMvOOH_1xI/AAAAAAAABCQ/WdsFM_Uf99w/s1600/Image+16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-m_5_Y0tublU/UiMvOOH_1xI/AAAAAAAABCQ/WdsFM_Uf99w/s400/Image+16.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"></span><span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"></span><span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">After the sun
set around 8:30, daylight lingered for a while, but there was no moon. By 9:15,
it was pitch black on the water. Though I couldn’t see the rogue waves coming,
I could see the lighthouse in the distance and that seemed to be enough. </span>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">There had
been times during the day when every muscle hurt, when I was sure I couldn’t go
on. But suddenly, as darkness descended, nothing hurt—I mean, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">nothing</i> hurt! After nearly fifteen hours
of paddling—seven hours directly into the wind—that felt like some kind of
miracle and inspired me to keep paddling. I knew these last miles would be the
slowest of the day. And yes, it was a little scary in the dark. Still, I’d gone
too far to stop. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">But at 9:45,
my unflappable, last-person-to-give-up, always-pushing-to-extremes husband said
it was over. “It’s too dangerous, Lynne. I can’t let you go on.” I knew he was
right. I was putting not only myself in danger, but also Bill and Todd, who’d
been trailing me for hours on the chase boat. Amazingly, my little kayak was
taking the waves better than their big boat. I was tossed a bit by the waves,
but they were hurled upward and then came crashing down. They wanted to stay
close to me to keep me in their light, but feared they’d run over me when a
wave threw them off course. We’d spent too many years on Lake Michigan to take this
situation lightly. I knew Bill was right. I had to stop. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">So, after 32
nautical miles, with only 4 to go, it was over. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Since last Monday,
I’ve been thinking more about acts of solidarity. Maybe such acts matter only to
the people doing them. I wish that weren’t true, but if it is, I think it’s
still worth doing them. Even if I didn’t change Congo by paddling harder and
longer than I thought I could, I certainly did change my passion for Congo. Maybe
that’s all I had the power to change and maybe that’s what I was called to
change. I will say this: Monday’s experience fueled an energy in me that is
still building. An energy to advocate more effectively, speak more loudly,
fight with greater intensity—not just for Congo, but for whatever needs fixing
in this broken world. I discovered there's more in me than I thought and I need to use it for greater good in the future. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">I’ll probably
go on pondering this for a long time. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Today, I’m
waiting for the fog to lift because I still have 4 nautical miles of paddling
to do before I’ll have the $10,000 check for Congo in hand. Despite what I
learned about the non-financial value of acts of solidarity, I am still eager
to pass the actual check along to my friends at World Relief. And I would still
encourage any of you to donate $10 to <a href="http://worldrelief.org/standforcongo">World Relief Congo</a> by texting CONGO to
505-55.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">In the bigger
world of #MaybeICan2013, my friend Belinda Bauman is still planning to run a <a href="http://www.fmcfw.org/race4peace">half-marathon for Congo</a>. Go Belinda! My friend
Laura Crosby is still pounding the asphalt in Minneapolis to raise money for <a href="http://support.worldvision.org/site/TR/TeamWorldVision/TeamWorldVision?px=1330855&pg=personal&fr_id=2160"><span style="color: black;">clean water in Africa</span></a>. Laura, I can’t wait to
compare notes on the lessons of physical endurance! Steve Wiens is still
training for his <span style="color: black;"><a href="http://www.stevewiens.com/2013/08/20/but-there-were-two-girls-and-we-helped-them/">RIM to RIM race</a></span> through the
Grand Canyon to raise $50,000 for victims of sex trafficking. Steve, I’m so
inspired by you! I know others who are still working out details of their own #MaybeICan2013
challenge. Cheers to the lunatics! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">My pastor
friend Chris Seay and his Ecclesia congregation donated $1,000 to the kayak
challenge. That will be used for Syrian refugees I’ll be visiting in Jordan
later in the fall. Thanks Chris! (I’ll be contacting you soon about that
check….)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Chalkboard; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">The amazing
Allie earned $5,000 for the charity of her choice. Thanks, Allie, for joining
me in this adventure, for helping me pace well during the first half so I’d
have energy for the second, and for cheering me on the whole way. I love that I
made a new friend this summer! </span></div>
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<br />lynne hybelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770393832000915864noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423916276727264510.post-47876078250931548632013-08-25T12:19:00.000-05:002013-08-25T12:19:55.574-05:00This is the week! #MaybeICan2013 for Congo!<br />
<i>Yep, this is the week. Water bottles and energy bars are stashed in the dry hatches of my kayak. I've got a nice blue waterproof cover on my iPhone. Tonight we'll be checking the radar weather reports to determine which might be the best day for our "adventure." <a href="http://lynnehybels.blogspot.com/2013/07/maybe-i-can-can-you_13.html">#MaybeIcan2013</a> is suddenly feeling very real to me. VERY. REAL. In case you've forgotten why I'm kayaking 38.5 miles this week, here's a little reminder...</i><br />
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<b>My friends Stephan and Belinda Bauman, and their two boys, just returned from the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC).</b> They visited our Congolese friends in Goma—local pastors, church volunteers, and World Relief Congo staff—who are the hands and feet of God in that troubled country. <br />
<br />
Here is a photo of Belinda talking with a woman in an IDP (Internally
Displace People) camp. Those plastic-covered hovels are the only
shelters available now for thousands of Congolese who have had to flee
for their lives from the violence of warring rebels and state militia.
In the weeks to come I'll be sharing some of the stories Belinda
gathered from mothers and grandmothers trying to care for their families
in situations like this.<br />
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Many people give up on Congo because its problems are chronic: a totally ineffective government, corruption on every level, virtually no rule of law, and an ongoing war for control of the vast mineral resources of the country. But the vulnerable people who live there <b>can’t give up. </b>They go on, day after day, trying to live normal lives against the backdrop of unimaginable violence and fear. So, the Congolese churches and World Relief Congo staff <b>refuse to give up too. </b> And <b>I refuse to give up on Congo.</b> I choose to stand in solidarity with the people of Congo, helping them live as best they can, and maybe <b>giving them enough hope to keep going one more day.</b> <br /><br />
Belinda is one of the best hope-givers I know. Stephan wrote in a blog recently about her: “My wife is a natural in Africa. She says she feels more African than American. Her African sisters say the same.” A year ago I saw Belinda in Africa, so I know what Stephan says is true. Belinda was made for Africa. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy.<br /><br />
Belinda emailed me this morning: <br /><br />
<i>I woke up at 5:30 this morning and knew it was “that” morning. That morning when it all catches up with you. That morning when images of actual armed UN trucks and children who aren’t getting enough calories and mothers with no way to provide for them and grandmothers choosing which child to feed—that morning when those images flood every corner of thought. The television images of IDP camps in Syria are messing me up. In Congo I visited three camps in four days and let myself feel only when I was looking into people’s eyes. Now everything I took in subconsciously on the periphery is crashing in. <br /><br />I have been here before. I know you know days like this. It is not the day you talk to a lot of people. It is the day you write. Just get the thoughts out and describe the crashing corners. Not an easy day. Stephan knows what “this” day is like too, but the boys don’t. I will still make pancakes with blueberries, I will finish the laundry, and water the lawn and write, and we will still go to our little 5:30 mass tonight. But I will have the smell of volcanic ash in my nostrils and burning eyes all day. </i><br /><br />I understand the kind of day Belinda is having. I experience it every time I return from a troubled place. <b>You get to know people and their stories haunt you. </b> Our friend, Congolese pastor Marcel, was planning to host his second daughter’s wedding this weekend. Did he have to cancel it because the battle between UN forces and rebels was heating up this weekend and moving closer and closer to his home? I don’t yet know the answer to that question. But that's the reality for our friends living in a war zone. <br />
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You can find out more about what’s currently happening in Goma by reading Stephan Bauman’s latest<a href="http://stephanbauman.com/dont-give-up-on-congo"> blog</a>. My recent <a href="http://lynnehybels.blogspot.com/2013/07/the-worlds-forgotten-war_9848.html">article</a> on Congo offers a broader overview. This is a critical time in a country that has been suffering for a long, long time. <br /><br />But there’s much more to Congo than suffering. There is also great joy and great beauty. In fact, a year ago when my friends and I left Congo, all the way home we kept talking about Beautiful Congo. Beautiful landscape. Beautiful red soil. Beautiful flowers. Beautiful mountains. Beautiful fabrics. Beautiful spirits. Beautiful resilience. Beautiful perseverance. Beautiful people! People whose suffering has made them great: mothers, fathers, pastors, children, families, communities serving one another with joy and nurturing seeds of hope. <br />
<br /><b>This week I’ll fulfill my #MaybeICan2013 challenge by kayaking 38.5 miles to “earn” $10,000 for Beautiful Congo. </b> Funds will support existing World Relief Congo programs in micro-enterprise, trauma response to gender-based violence, and training for grassroots peacemakers, and will also provide basic supplies for displaced families living in refugee camps. <br />
<br />$10,000 is a great start, but I’d love to raise more. <b>You can donate $10 to <a href="http://worldrelief.org/standforcongo">World Relief Congo</a> simply by texting Congo to 505-55. If 1000 people do that, we’ll have another $10,000 for immediate, on-the-ground use on behalf of Congo! </b><br />
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My new friend, Allie, will be kayaking with me, so we can cheer each other on. Because the waves on Lake Michigan seriously impact our paddling, we'll choose our kayaking day at the last minute, based on weather. <b>We'll keep you posted via Twitter! </b><br />
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Also remember my friends <a href="http://www.stevewiens.com/2013/08/20/but-there-were-two-girls-and-we-helped-them/">Steve Wiens</a> and <a href="http://support.worldvision.org/site/TR/TeamWorldVision/TeamWorldVision?px=1330855&pg=personal&fr_id=2160">Laura Crosby</a> who also joined the #MaybeICan2013 challenge to rescue victims of human trafficking and provide clean water in Africa.<br />
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(In the weeks to come, I'll provide #MaybeICan2013 updates regarding Syrian refugees, victims of human trafficking, and grassroots peacemakers.) <br />
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<br /><br /><br /><br /> <br />lynne hybelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770393832000915864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423916276727264510.post-84363668891568452742013-08-04T08:43:00.000-05:002013-08-04T08:43:01.384-05:00The Lunacy of #MaybeICan2013<br />
<i>Shortly after I started my kayaking adventure and launched #MaybeICan2013, my blog was retweeted by a guy whose profile described him as "pastor/runner/writer/father." I thanked him for the retweet and said I liked his "job description." I sensed he was unusually interested in #MaybeICan so I asked if he was planning a personal challenge. I thought I was just being gently probing, though he describes that a bit differently! Still, he responded warmly. Here's my most recent email from him. Further details of his adventure will be available soon. Thanks, Steve, for inspiring me back! Here's to the lunatics! </i><br />
<br />
Lynne,<br /><br />Hi. This is Steve, the pastor/runner/writer/father. I just wanted to thank you for inspiring me to join you in the lunacy of Maybe I Can.<br /><br />I loved your blog, as you know, and retweeted it, in a kind of "Wow, what she's doing is very cool" way. <br /><br />And then you tweeted back at me, wondering what I was planning to do for Maybe I can. How rude! :)<br /><br />But when I looked up and noticed what was already taking shape in my life, something powerful and wonderful and fun came together.<br /><br />My uncle invited me to run the Grand Canyon Rim-to-Rim with him on September 15th. It will be 22 miles of descent, raw beauty, and finally climbing what is apparently called "The Devils Staircase." Maybe I can, but I wish they wouldn't have called it that. So, long runs and my hill workouts are my new best friends.<br /><br />And I met with an old friend who has started a beautiful non-profit based in Ethiopia called <i>Eyes that See</i>, and he told me that they have helped 100 women escape prostitution, by putting them through an academic program, then getting them jobs and places to live. You can read a little about it here: http://www.eyesthatsee.org/category/the-keziah-project/ And I thought, Maybe I can help some more women go through the program. <br /><br />So I prayed, and talked, and I'm doing it. On September 15th, I'm running Rim-to-Rim, and I'll be raising funds for <i>Eyes that See, </i>so that we can partner with 14 year old Ethiopian women, some of whom have been raped by their fathers, so they can experience some resurrection. The details are still coming together regarding what we are going to set as a goal for how much to raise. I'm excited. I'm scared. But Love Does, so I'm doing it!<br /><br />Thank you for helping me see, for encouraging me that maybe I can, too. <br /><br />Steve<br /><br />Steve Wiens<br />Twitter: @stevewienslynne hybelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770393832000915864noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423916276727264510.post-88036420315507896192013-07-21T07:17:00.000-05:002013-07-21T07:24:53.025-05:00Maybe I Can Take 2: A Confession & An Escape <style>
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Confession: I started kayaking again this summer for purely
selfish reasons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All this talk about “<a href="http://lynnehybels.blogspot.com/2013/07/maybe-i-can-can-you_13.html"><span style="color: blue;">kayaking for a cause</span></a>” is true; I am pushing my
personal limits to kayak 36 miles in order to raise money and awareness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, that’s not where my summer 2013 kayaking
plan started.</div>
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I started kayaking again this summer because I needed a
break.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After five years of international
travel, speaking and activism (and the criticism that often
accompanies public advocacy), I was emotionally, spiritually and relationally
drained.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I needed the privacy of a big
lake and the contemplative rhythm of a paddle slicing through water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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I first started kayaking a decade ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I logged my highest number of nautical miles
during the summer of 2004, during which time I worked out the ideas that became
my book, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Nice Girls Don’t Change the
World.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i>From the book’s promo:</div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Back and forth in a steady rhythm, my
paddle pushed the water and my kayak sliced the waves. I moved slowly as my thoughts gathered, but
faster as my frustration peaked. The muscles in my arms ached as my
jumbled thoughts coalesced into a single sentence: <i>Nice girls don’t change the world! </i>Therein
lay my frustration. Since childhood I had dreamed of being a righter of
wrongs, a force for good, a soul-soother, a world-changer—a dangerous
woman! But what had I been instead? A “nice girl,” an innocuous
people-pleaser. Good at going through the safe, socially accepted motions
of life, I had lost all sense of passion, giftedness, or dreams.</i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>That would make a great title for a
book,</i><i> my husband suggested
later as I spit out my kayaking insight. <i>Oh right, I quipped irritably. </i>But his suggestion
lingered. Are there other nice girls out there? Women living out
roles that deny their true selves and violate God’s calling on their
lives? Women dying to come to life? Should I write for them as well as for
me? Thus was my little book conceived.</i></span></span><br />
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Throughout that summer I paddled ferociously.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No contemplative rhythm for this girl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A fevered attack on the water was what I
needed; I was battling my demons with a feathered polypro paddle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Amazingly, it worked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In 2005 <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Nice-Girls-Change-World-ebook/dp/B004R9PTHY/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1374408280&sr=8-1&keywords=nice+girls+don%27t+change+the+world"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">NiceGirls Don’t Change the World </i></a>was published.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Though it never became a big seller, I received moving emails from
readers sharing their own stories of personal need or transformation, telling
me I’d given them words for their own journey. I loved that!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had “turned my pain into poetry” and it had
helped other women find their own healing words.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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Releasing <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Nice Girls </i>was
a turning point for me. To a great extent it released me from the fear-imposed
limitations of my past and freed me to bring greater energy, joy and
productivity to all dimensions of life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>In ministry, I became increasingly involved in grassroots partnerships in
Africa. I spent several busy years traveling, learning, building relationships
“on the ground” in South Africa and Zambia, then telling stories and raising
awareness and funds at home. </div>
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I did that as an active volunteer leader at my church, but
in 2008 and 2009 I felt drawn to ministry outside the scope of my church’s
global engagement at that time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
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A radio
program on NPR gripped me and pulled me into ongoing involvement in the
Democratic Republic of Congo, where the <a href="http://lynnehybels.blogspot.com/2013/07/the-worlds-forgotten-war_9848.html"><span style="color: blue;">deadliest conflict since WW II</span></a> continues to rage—invisible to most of the world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
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At the same time, a conference in Amman,
Jordan broke my heart and led me into ongoing relationships with <a href="http://lynnehybels.blogspot.com/2013/06/entering-conflict-to-learn-practices-of.html"><span style="color: blue;">grassroots peacemakers</span></a>—both Jews and Arabs—in the
Holy Land, where a so-called intractable conflict consistently defies the
rhetoric of so-called peace talks. </div>
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How a recovering <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">nice
girl—</i>the ultimate people-pleaser and conflict-avoider—landed in two
conflict zones, with the various controversies surrounding them, would be
laughable if I didn’t consistently find myself in tears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In any conflict, women and children suffer
most—from the “routine” traumas of displacement and economic hardship, as well
as the shocking traumas (in Congo) of gender-based violence and recruitment of
child soldiers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>War zones often become
venues for human trafficking and enslavement; from rebel-controlled mines to
brothels to militias made up of kids, human beings become commodities in the
economy of war. </div>
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I’m grateful for the opportunities I’ve had to travel and
learn, but a year or so ago I began to feel that my heart had been broken a few
too many times. No more, I told my friends, quite seriously.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No more “issues.” I don’t want to hear about,
learn about, or care about any additional tragedies in the world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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Then I met a Syrian woman, an advocate for the civilians of
Syria.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Don’t you know,” she explained,
“that the same brutal violation of women that gripped you in Congo is happening
to Syrian women.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t bear to put
into words what I’ve seen. But you need to know: the violence is horrific and
women are being victimized in inconceivable ways.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That was months ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The <span style="color: blue;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Refugees_of_the_Syrian_civil_war">reports</a> </span>have
only gotten worse as the flow of refugees into neighboring countries has
escalated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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Okay, so Syrian refugees.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’ll let them slip into my heart.</div>
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Then the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">President’s
Council on Faith-Based and Neighborhood Organizations</i>, on which I currently
service, decided to focus on the issue of human trafficking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was well-aware of the trafficking of
persons internationally, but as the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Council</i>
brought in experts to teach us, I learned more than I wanted to know about the <a href="http://www.polarisproject.org/human-trafficking/sex-trafficking-in-the-us"><span style="color: blue;">trafficking of persons</span></a> occurring right here, in the
good old US of A.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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So now, here’s the truth for me: I often wake up in the
night wishing I didn’t know what I know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Because once you know, you either have to force yourself into a soul-shrinking
denial, or you have to do something. And in the darkness of night I don’t want
to have to make that choice. I don’t want my soul to shrink; at the same time,
I don’t want to be held accountable for what I’ve seen and heard and learned. </div>
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But in the light of morning, I’m glad I know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, I feel a little beaten down this
summer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But that’s temporary and that’s
fixable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bottom line: I’m
grateful—thrilled, actually—that I’ve had the opportunity to read and travel
and see the worst of life and meet the best of people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m glad I’m continually forced to deal with
what I know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because in dealing with
what I know I’ve found the life I was made for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It’s a very rich life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes,
sometimes I want (perhaps <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">need</i>) to
escape it; but give me a brief escape, and I can’t wait to get back to “real
life.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love that I get to think and
pray and act on behalf of God’s children who are suffering. </div>
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Most people don’t have the freedom to live this way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I live an extremely and uniquely privileged
life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For starters, I don’t have to earn
a living to take care of my family; my husband's income frees me from that responsibility.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Beyond that, we are able to fund
my “global adventures” through our personal finances.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That gives me tremendous (and enviable)
freedom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not tied to any particular
organization, I don’t have to sit in any board meetings, and I don’t have any
overhead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I get to go where I sense the
Spirit’s pull, I get to cry and laugh with amazing people, and then I get to
come home and be their advocates to American Christians.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I get to tell their stories and raise money
on their behalf.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I couldn’t have dreamed
up a better job description for myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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So yeah, I get a little overwhelmed at times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I get overwhelmed because of choices I’ve
made; anytime I need to back away a bit, I can.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It’s not like I’m overwhelmed by the inescapable hardship or horror of
my own life, as millions of people in the world are.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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Additionally, I get to spend two months every year in a tiny
cottage on Lake Michigan, where I can read and think and play leisurely with
ideas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Where I can walk on the beach and
ride my old red Schwinn on country roads. Where I am close enough to my parents
to see them regularly. Where I can dream up new ministry connections for the
coming year. Where my grandsons visit and play with me in the waves. And yes,
where I can drag my kayak across a sandy beach and paddle on big water to my
heart’s content—and train for a #MaybeICan challenge. </div>
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I’d love to have a lot of people take the <span style="color: blue;"><a href="http://lynnehybels.blogspot.com/2013/07/maybe-i-can-can-you_13.html">#MaybeICan2013</a> <span style="color: black;">challenge</span></span>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Do something a little unreasonable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Ask people to support your efforts with donations to a worthy cause. Or be
the person who makes the donations, who writes the checks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(If you’re wondering, I am accepting donors!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You tell me what you’re interested in and
I’ll send you a list of organizations I know and trust.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You write out a check directly to them.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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I really, really hope a lot of you will find challenge, joy
and fulfillment in stretching yourselves to raise awareness and funds for the
four causes I’m focused on—Congo, Syrian refugees, grassroots peacemakers,
victims of human trafficking—or whatever breaks your heart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you do, please know that I don’t take your
efforts lightly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You have families and
jobs and complexities I can’t even imagine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Thank you for pushing beyond all of that to help somebody else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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I’d love to hear about your #MaybeICan2013 challenge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tweet or FB me, or send a note to <a href="mailto:lynne@lynnehybels.com">lynne@lynnehybels.com</a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your ideas will spark ideas for others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We need to keep inspiring each other and
cheering each other on!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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I started the summer kayaking to escape.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s still an escape.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>An escape into waves and wondering, sunshine
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An escape that’s filling me up for the future.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I feel so blessed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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lynne hybelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770393832000915864noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423916276727264510.post-23532250229890114022013-07-13T12:06:00.000-05:002013-07-13T12:13:35.536-05:00Maybe I can. Can you?<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">So I was on a boat on Lake Michigan with some friends and I mentioned that I’d begun kayaking again after several years of physical laziness. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">One man with a passion for issuing challenges said, “If you’ll kayak from South Haven to Saugatuck and back again, I’ll give you $10,000 for your favorite charity.”<b> </b> Immediately I said, ‘There’s no way I can do that. That would be 36 miles. In waves. I’m totally out of shape. As is my old, beat-up kayak. There’s no way I can do that.” </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">End of conversation.</span> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">Until another conversation—in my head—took over. <br /><br /><i>Hmmmm. Maybe I can. Maybe if I get out there every day and paddle my heart out I can work up to 36 miles by the end of the summer. After all, my donor didn't say how fast I had to paddle--or with what finesse! Surely, if I just keep sticking the paddle in the water, I can make it eventually. Maybe I can even find additional donors and raise more money!</i><br /><br />Then I could donate a good chunk of money to my friends in Congo who are working so hard to bring peace and healing to a country still suffering from <a href="http://lynnehybels.blogspot.com/2013/07/the-worlds-forgotten-war_9848.html">The World’s Forgotten War</a>. <br /><br />Maybe I could donate some money to help the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Refugees_of_the_Syrian_civil_war">Syrian refugees</a> I read about every day. I can’t get them out of my mind. Well over a million Syrians have been forced to flee for their lives--most of them women and children. Maybe it’s time for me to do more than read about them and wish somebody else would do something to help them. <br /> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">And what about the <a href="http://lynnehybels.blogspot.com/2013/06/entering-conflict-to-learn-practices-of.html">grassroots peacemakers</a> I’ve met in the Middle East? Israelis, Palestinians, Christians, Muslims and Jews? Those heroes doing the hard work of reconciliation? I know many of them who could use financial support. <br /><br />I just read that <i>every year</i> thousands of American kids (18 and under) are lured into <a href="http://www.polarisproject.org/human-trafficking/sex-trafficking-in-the-us">sex trafficking</a>—<i>in American cities</i>. That’s <i>our</i> kids, in <i>our </i>cities. Also vulnerable to sex trafficking are America's homeless population and undocumented immigrants. I know some amazing people working to free these people. Surely, they could use additional funding. <br /><br />So. There’s $10,000—at least—on the line here. And plenty of people who need it. All that stands in the way is me and my assumption that I can’t rise to this challenge. But, maybe I can.<br /><br /><b>Maybe I can. </b> <br /><br />By the end of that afternoon boat ride, I had decided to give it my best shot. I’ve been out on the lake paddling almost every day of the last two weeks. I’ve got a long way to go before I’m ready for the 36-mile challenge, but I’m heading in the right direction. <br /><br />I’m writing about this because I know I need the accountability. More to the point, I need the visibility. It wouldn’t be too hard for me to give up on this challenge privately, but I really don’t want to give up in public. So, here it is in black and white on my screen and yours. <br /><br /><b>I going to try to kayak 36 miles on Lake Michigan in order raise money for some people who really need it. For peacemakers and refugees and vulnerable Americans. My goal is to meet this challenge right before, during or after the Labor Day weekend (timing dependent on weather and waves). </b> <br /><br />What about you? If you were going to do something ridiculous for a cause, what would your cause be? What need in the world breaks your heart? (If you’re at a loss, I have <i>plenty</i> of suggestions.) <br /><br />Next question: What could you do to raise a few dollars—or a few thousand dollars—for that cause? <br /><br />I’d love to hear about kayakers from all over the world paddling on the lake or river or ocean closest to them to raise money for their cause. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6qysO59QZ6E/UeGEzKFmC3I/AAAAAAAAA_s/VRiVK_8RmjM/s1600/IMG_4471.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6qysO59QZ6E/UeGEzKFmC3I/AAAAAAAAA_s/VRiVK_8RmjM/s400/IMG_4471.JPG" width="400" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">But you might have a different idea: Paint your most gorgeous painting ever and sell it? Host a spectacular dinner party and invite your guests to “donate for a cause”? Run a marathon? Or a half? (I know some people running a half-marathon in September for Congo. Want the details?) <br /><br />Seriously. What challenge is forcing its way (unwanted, perhaps) into your mind while you read this? Come on. I bet there’s an idea taking shape. <br /><br />Think about it. Think about something a little unreasonable. Think about something you’re pretty sure you can’t pull off. But then keep thinking about it. Let the conversation in your mind spin out of control. Stick with the internal debate until you find yourself thinking, <i>Maybe I can. </i><br /><br /><b>Maybe I can. </b> <br /><br />Then take one step forward. Drag out your beat-up kayak. Get out your paints. Plan your menu. Get a new pair of running shoes. Brainstorm with a friend. Think about who might want to donate to your cause. Seriously. Do it! <br /><b><br />Thoughts? Comments? Ideas? I’d love to hear what’s brewing in your mind! Let's cheer each other on! </b><br /><br />In the meantime, there's a big lake out there….</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>lynne hybelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770393832000915864noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423916276727264510.post-86193979405081929222013-07-12T07:46:00.001-05:002013-07-12T07:46:51.841-05:00The World's Forgotten War<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: inherit;">A version of this article appears in the current issue of RELEVANT Magazine. </span></i></span><br />
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<b><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The deadliest conflict since World War II rages today. </span></span></i></b><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">This war has claimed “the same number of lives as having a 9/11 every single day for 360 days, the genocide that struck Rwanda in 1994, the ethnic cleansing that overwhelmed Bosnia in the mid-1990’s, the genocide that took place in Darfur, the number of people killed in the great tsunami that struck Asia in 2004, and the number of people who died in Hiroshima and Nagasaki—all combined and then doubled.”(1) These numbers are astonishing, yet most Americans have never heard them. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><i>This war the world has forgotten—being fought today in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC)—has claimed nearly six million lives. </i></b><br /><br />And that’s not all. By the end of 2012, an additional 2.4 million Congolese had been driven from their homes and forced to seek shelter with desperately poor relatives or in makeshift local camps where entire families lived in hovels built of sticks and tarps. Nearly half a million more Congolese sought asylum in neighboring countries, but usually fared no better than those in the camps. Most of the displaced people were subsistence farmers who had fed their families from the produce of Congo’s rich soil. Now they were running for their lives, and everything they left behind—homes, crops, schools and churches—was destroyed by the ruthless rebels. <br /><br />I first heard about this conflict in an NPR news report in 2008. As if the number of dead and displaced people weren’t enough, I learned this: that <b>a major weapon of war in the DRC is rape.</b> Rebel fighters say it’s cheaper to rape a woman than waste a bullet. Women in eastern Congo don’t talk about “if” they’ll be raped, but “when.” Their mothers and sisters and friends have been gang-raped, or raped with tree branches and gun barrels and worse. This is the tragic story of 1,100 women who are raped every day in the DRC, according to the American Journal of Public Health. Many experts consider the sexual violence in the DRC to be the worst in the world and the greatest humanitarian crisis of our time. <br /><br />I learned from the news report that the DRC is the second largest country in Africa, equal to the size of the entire US east of the Mississippi, with a population of 71 million. Formerly called Belgian Congo and then Zaire, the country has a tragic history of colonialism, greed and exploitation. The current highly complex conflict, which at times has involved the armies of nine countries and has been called “Africa’s World War,” continues to be impacted by ethnic hostilities, regional politics and greed. <br /><br />Before that radio program, I had never heard of the war in Congo. But once I knew, I couldn’t sit back and do nothing. Twice since hearing that story I’ve traveled to Eastern Congo—the epicenter of fighting—with World Relief, a Christian humanitarian organization. <b> I discovered a tragedy worse than I’d imagined. But I also discovered the most powerful positive force in the world: hope. </b><br /><br />In a concrete church building in the town of Rutshuru, my friends and I listened while eleven women told their stories. All had been raped and brutalized; some had watched their husbands murdered and their daughters raped. They ranged from eight years old to almost sixty. What empowered them to speak was that they had been lovingly cared for by Congolese counselors trained by World Relief. <br /><br />One by one the women stood and spoke. We wept with them. We knelt and prayed for them. We had lunch with them. And at the end, my friend Christine photographed them. While she took dozens of photos of each woman she told them how beautiful they were, that we would not forget them, and that we would tell their stories, as they had asked us to do. <br /><br />Something magic happened that day. <b>We discovered the healing power that is unleashed when stories are told and heard. We experienced the beautiful, mutual transformation that occurs when people connect soul to soul across culture and language and differing life experiences.</b> The day was profound, shattering and uplifting all at once. <br /><br />On another day in Rutshuru we met with local church leaders who have created “Village Peace Committees” to help resolve local conflicts. In a country where there is no rule of law, these church leaders have become the only trusted system of justice that vulnerable people can turn to. Never have I seen the local church “being the church” the way I saw it in the DRC. <br /><br /><b>I did not write this article to inform you. I wrote it to call you to action. </b><br /><br />The DRC needs our government to lead the international community in working for peace in the Congo. Find out how you can challenge Congress to do that <a href="http://worldrelief.org/page.aspx?pid=1319">here</a>. <br /><br />The vulnerable Congolese also need emergency food, shelter and medical care. Right now you can donate $10 to World Relief Congo by texting CONGO to 505-55. <br /><br />And finally, please pray for peace in the DRC. I am an activist, but I know that human activism is no match for the pain of Congo. To inspire your prayers and to learn more about Congo, visit <a href="http://tenforcongo.com/">tenforcongo.com</a>, a grassroots movement devoted to peace in the DRC. <br /><br />One of the women in Rutshuru said, “Thank you for coming. You have reminded us that we are still human.” Another said, “You have shown us that God is still thinking of us.” <br /><br />Please use your voice and your action to echo that message of hope. <br /><br /><br /></span></span>lynne hybelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770393832000915864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423916276727264510.post-75105716555339528412013-06-26T09:18:00.000-05:002013-06-26T09:18:54.798-05:00In the World's Worst War: Grassroots Peacemakers! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Ten new Village Peace Committees (VPCs) have just been established in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), where an ongoing, brutal civil war--the deadliest war since WW 2--ravages a country and her people. <br /><br />In a previous blog called <a href="http://lynnehybels.blogspot.com/2012/08/gathering-around-peace-table.html">"Gathering Around the Peace Table</a>" I wrote about the grassroots peacemakers (VPCs) I met in the DRC who are nonviolently resolving local conflicts day after day after day. You can learn more about these peacemakers in a Christianity Today article <a href="http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2013/may-web-only/building-peace-in-heart-of-darkness.html">here</a>. <br /><br />For the past two years, twenty-two VPCs have been serving local communities in the epicenter of Congo's worst fighting. Now, ten more communities will receive the gift of peacemakers. Each VPC is made up of ten pastors, women leaders and youth leaders who have been trained by World Relief Congo in the principles and practices of conflict transformation. To ensure greater influence among the communities they serve, the VPCs are made up of people from different tribes and denominations, as well as of both genders and various ages. <br /><br />In a country where there is no rule of law, the VPCs have become the only justice system people can depend on, effectively settling disputes and nurturing a spirit of unity among villagers. Why is this so important? Because when outside rebels enter a village, they expect to find divided, hostile people they can co-opt into their self-serving causes and lure onto the path of violence. But wherever the VPCs have been active, the rebels find instead a village united and committed to nonviolence and the way of peace. While international powers have failed to establish peace from the top down in the DRC, grassroots peacemakers are building it from the bottom up.<br />
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Of course, we must continue to advocate for effective international engagement in Congo, and pray with prophetic imagination for peace for all Congolese. But let's also take a moment to celebrate what's worth celebrating: the amazing grassroots peacemakers. As they live out the principles of the Kingdom of God, they are bringing hope to Congo! <br />
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You can learn more about the effective work of World Relief Congo--and the Congolese people I have come to know and love--at <a href="http://www.tenforcongo.com./">www.tenforcongo.com.</a> lynne hybelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770393832000915864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423916276727264510.post-21793752013424893712013-06-23T07:46:00.000-05:002013-06-23T07:46:58.287-05:00Entering Conflict to Learn the Practices of Peace
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><i>I deeply respect my friend and guest blogger, Jon Huckins. Here he describes what motivated him to pursue the path of peacemaking and to invite others into that journey. </i></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><i>by </i>Jon Huckins</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">I remember our
conversation like it was yesterday. Standing on top of a hotel in the Old
City of Jerusalem overlooking Herod's Palace, my new friend Milad looked into
my eyes and began to weep. He said, "I'm a Christian. I
believe Jesus is the Messiah just like you. Why do your people think I'm
a terrorist? You all pray for your breakfast every morning before going
to visit the holy sites, while just five miles away your brothers and sisters
in Christ live in daily oppression in the West Bank." Milad is a
Christian Palestinian who lives in the West Bank town of Bethany, but crosses
through Israeli checkpoints each day to work at a hotel to support his family
and non-profit organization. </span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Not only did my
worldview extend and deepen in this moment, but I also began to view following
Jesus differently. If I truly was to follow the Jesus Way, it meant that I
couldn't simply march around the Holy Land like it was a theme park, remembering the
ancient narrative.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It meant I had to be
fully engaged in the modern narrative of Jesus being played out in this place.
It meant not only walking in the footsteps of Jesus, but following his
footsteps into the real life relationships that he would have been so
passionate about.</span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">This led my wife
and me away from the security of our university walls in which we had been
studying in Jerusalem, and into the very center of the modern conflict behind
the Separation Wall in the West Bank. Milad and his wife Manar had
invited us to see and experience everyday life with them in their town.
We came to find out that Milad wasn't simply a hotel employee, but a
symbol of hope and reconciliation in a place that had been riddled with
narratives of violence and brokenness. </span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Milad and Manar ran a non-profit in
Bethany that taught peace and reconciliation to the children of Palestine
through the arts and vocational training. Everywhere we walked townspeople smiled and waved
at our friends, and we began to realize we were being invited
into the lives of modern day heroes. This couple was taking the way of
Jesus so seriously that they found themselves in the hotbed of conflict as
agents of hope, peace and reconciliation. In this West Bank town of Bethany where Jesus brought about new life in Lazarus, new life continued to burst forth today! </span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">We began to tangibly see and be transformed by the values of the
Sermon on the Mount being played out in real time and space. </span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Milad and Manar
were (and are!) everyday peacemakers who taught us far more than we could ever
have learned in a book or classroom.</span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">One of the beauties
of the modern story being told through the inhabitants of the Holy Land is that
the gritty and subversive work of peacemaking transcends Separation Walls,
faith traditions and geographical locations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Another friend that has invited us into his story is Rabbi Eliyahu
McLean.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As a Jewish Israeli, and director
of Jerusalem Peacemakers, Eliyahu is a living and breathing presence of
reconciliation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Whether in a
Jewish settlement in the West Bank or the home of a Muslim Palestinian in
Hebron, Eliyahu is greeted with warmth and a spirit of partnership.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He once shared, “For the People of God to be
the People of God, we must be a people of righteousness and peace.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Walking the streets and entering
relationships alongside Eliyahu forced me to evaluate the presence I create
back at home in my neighborhood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do I
run away from conflict or move toward it with the practices that make for peace?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do I have mutually
beneficial relationships with those that don’t believe or live similarly to
myself?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Am I a presence of division or
reconciliation among the conflicts in my family, neighborhood and world?</span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">What an honor it
has been to build relationships with amazing people—true experts—like Milad and
Eliyahu. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wondered what would happen if
we invited other people to come learn from THESE peacemakers, who aren't just
spouting theory, but living out the everyday practices that make for peace <i>in one of the
most volatile regions of the world?</i></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">Out of
experiences and relationships like these came the birth of </span><a href="http://theglobalimmersionproject.com/">The Global Immersion Project</a><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">. We seek to stand with our friends in the Middle East and invite
them to teach us what it means to follow Jesus into the places of conflict
(relationally, socially, politically, etc.). To do that, we choose to go
far off the beaten path of tourism, pull into driveways rather than parking
lots, and share tables rather than conference rooms. We go to be
transformed, so we can better live, love and lead back in our neighborhoods as
agents of reconciliation. Because when change happens in our local
context, such change ripples positively into our global village. And in
so doing, Jesus is made famous. </span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">You’re invited to
join us as we give access to places that seem inaccessible, so we can learn
together from the most dynamic instructors in the world: everyday peacemakers
who are practicing the way of peace in the center of global conflict. Together,
may we be equipped to faithfully follow Jesus into the places of conflict—both near
and far—as <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>agents of peace and reconciliation.
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><i>Lynne: The Summer 2013 Global Immersion group will be in Israel/Palestine June 25-July 6. You can read regular updates during the trip<a href="http://theglobalimmersionproject.com/real-time-feed-summer-2013-immersion-in-israelpalestine/"> here</a>. (Or, I'm told that if you're a Storify user, you can follow their feed directly <a href="http://storify.com/GlobalImmerse">here</a>). You can also follow on Twitter @globalimmerse, or like their Facebook page, where they'll provide frequent updates as well.</i></span></span></div>
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lynne hybelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770393832000915864noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423916276727264510.post-77207209667499404122013-06-16T10:54:00.000-05:002013-06-16T11:03:44.571-05:00Happy Father's Day, Dad!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zwcI7ryC-_g/Ub3dH3N_GuI/AAAAAAAAA-k/dNq_sBcuCUM/s1600/Image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="325" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zwcI7ryC-_g/Ub3dH3N_GuI/AAAAAAAAA-k/dNq_sBcuCUM/s400/Image.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
This is my all time favorite photo of my dad and me. Dad bought this cycle shortly before my parents’ sixtieth wedding anniversary because it was an exact replica of the motorcycle he and my mom rode on their first date when they were seventeen. Yes, he is a true romantic. <br />
<br />
Speaking of romantic, here’s my Mom and Dad dancing at my niece’s wedding last fall. They were, seriously, one of the last couples to leave the dance floor. Personally, I think they were in their own little world that night, eighteen again and dancing at their own wedding!<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-t-o_nfjKdRI/Ub3dUdVvYNI/AAAAAAAAA-w/mgFUkgcKKjA/s1600/IMG_4574.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-t-o_nfjKdRI/Ub3dUdVvYNI/AAAAAAAAA-w/mgFUkgcKKjA/s320/IMG_4574.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>
This year, as they approach their sixty-fifty wedding anniversary, they’re not putting many miles on their motorcycle, which sits proud and sparkly in their garage. However, they’ve putting miles on their custom-made tandem recumbent. Ever the mechanical tinker, Dad continually tweaks this machine to better suit their style.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hhd0ekU2v78/Ub3dwBar5DI/AAAAAAAAA-4/un6HQ6xJgcg/s1600/Onthebike+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="328" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hhd0ekU2v78/Ub3dwBar5DI/AAAAAAAAA-4/un6HQ6xJgcg/s400/Onthebike+2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
With a year of aggressive chemotherapy behind him, Dad and all of us who love him are adjusting to his new normal, a less energetic, slower way of living. Throughout the winter, Dad’s oncologist kept saying, “We’re going to get you back out on that bike!” She was right. He and Mom are enjoying these summer days, riding slowly and not-too-far, but at least they’re riding again, adding a mile or two on each outing. <br />
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My dad’s always been a garage person. When I was a little girl I used to hang out with him in the garage while he worked on cars or created custom “things” out of metal. Sometimes I had to wear safety goggles to project myself from the sizzling light of a welder or a mask to protect myself from flying shards of cut metal. I never really paid attention to what he was doing, never tried to learn about it. I just went out there because he’d say, “Hey, Lindy, come out and talk to me while I work.” And I loved to do that. <br />
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I’ve decided that this summer, when I hang out with Dad in his garage, I’m going to try to learn something. He’s agreed to teach me to weld; he even reorganized his “stuff” in the garage to make it user-friendly for a novice.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g-36C2ilMdk/Ub3eAxshrsI/AAAAAAAAA_A/RDbGm2PQ6j8/s1600/IMG_6520.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g-36C2ilMdk/Ub3eAxshrsI/AAAAAAAAA_A/RDbGm2PQ6j8/s400/IMG_6520.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
I have every intention of devoting my brain and my hands to the art of welding. I’ll take it seriously and give it my best shot. My dad is, after-all, a great teacher; it would be a shame not to let him teach me. But secretly, if all I do is hang out in the garage and talk with him, I will consider it time very well spent. <br />
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PS I LOVE YOU DAD!!!! <br />
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lynne hybelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770393832000915864noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423916276727264510.post-76311124225318266882013-06-03T09:25:00.000-05:002013-06-03T10:26:02.740-05:00A Note to Young Moms<div class="MsoNormal">
On October 7, 2006, my daughter, Shauna Niequist, gave birth
to her first child.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shauna had recently
turned thirty and Henry was a “planned baby.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But planned or not, a baby radically changes life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The week Shauna found out she was pregnant
she also signed a book contract, and a month later she traded her full-time
leadership position on a church staff for part-time church consulting and
speaking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>
</div>
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<br /></div>
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Shauna was overjoyed to become a mother, and willingly
shifted the main focus of her time and energy to child-rearing; however, she
knew that in order to be her best self she should continue to develop and
use—to some degree—the full range of gifts God has given her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The challenge of blending motherhood with
serving outside the home increased on September 26, 2011, when Henry was joined
by baby brother Mac.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While snuggling a
baby who delightfully smiled all day—and (not so delightfully) much of the
night too, Shauna was finishing her third book and schlepping Mac along with
her to speaking engagements. </div>
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Now Henry is six and Mac is twenty months.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shauna has intentionally slowed life down a
bit now, but she’s still a mom with a diaper bag slung over one shoulder and a
computer bag over the other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She and
musician husband, Aaron Niequist, negotiate daily how best to share both
parenting and the creative life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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As for me—Nana Lynne—I am enjoying my favorite era of life
so far: Since Shauna was born almost thirty-eight years ago, I’ve rarely had a
paying job.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I’ve always been busy as
a volunteer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Currently my volunteer
ministry world is as big as the <a href="http://www.tenforcongo.com/">Congo</a> and the <a href="http://www.tenforcongo.com/">Middle East</a>, and my heart has
been captured by both regions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My
personal world is as small as two little boys who make <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">me</i> <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">feel</i> like a young mom
again!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(And yes, ones heart can be
captured by countries and by little boys at the very same time!) </div>
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<br /></div>
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Together Shauna and I examined my long-past experiences and her
recent-past experiences and shaped the following five suggestions for women
combining the realities of motherhood with...well, with anything! We hope these are helpful. </div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Pay attention to your
authentic responses to life</b>. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Be honest with yourself. Listen to your soul, your emotions,
your joys, your frustrations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are so
quick to say, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I shouldn’t feel like this;
I should feel like that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I shouldn’t
desire this; I should be content with that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></i>But when we dismiss or deny our authentic responses and lose touch
with our true needs, feelings, dreams and desires, we often end up frustrated
and bitter. </div>
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<br /></div>
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We need to allow ourselves to honestly answer questions like
these:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Am I pleased with how I’m living
my life?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or am I frustrated?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Angry?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Depressed?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What brings me
energy?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What drains my energy?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What are my dreams for the future?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What needs in the world move me to tears?
What activities and endeavors bring me joy?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>What creative outlet brings me deep satisfaction?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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This type of honesty is not about self-indulgence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s about dealing with what’s true inside
us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s about making thoughtful,
prayerful decisions about how to live with joy so we can bring our “best
selves” to the people we love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As we
pray about our honest feelings, or talk with trusted friends, our spouse, or a
counselor, we can decide how to respond to those feelings constructively.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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Questions such as these can spark creative solutions: Are
there activities I can eliminate from my schedule that will help me to feel
less stressed?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Are there
responsibilities I can give up that will give me more time for activities I
prefer?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is there a class I could take
that will help keep my dreams for the future alive?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is there a volunteer job I could do that
would be fulfilling?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How can I
creatively shape a life that’s more satisfying for me? </div>
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<br /></div>
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On the other hand, some of our feelings may indicate an area
in which we need to grow in patience or obedience to God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There may be life circumstances that we
simply need to learn to accept as the reality of our life, either for a season
or permanently. But until we become honest about our feelings, we can’t even
begin to discern what we need to accept and what we have the freedom to change.
</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Make a commitment to
yourself. </b></div>
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As you discover gifts, passions, or activities that breathe
life into you, commit yourself to staying involved in them in some small
way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t take an all or nothing
approach.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Often we think that if we
don’t have forty hours a week to devote to something, we might as well not even
try.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s not true!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few hours here and there can make a huge
difference—both in terms of the impact we can have on others and on the health
of our own souls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Be willing to
compromise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Get creative.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Set reasonable goals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Use the small chunks of time you have now as
an investment in your future dreams.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<div align="left" class="MsoTitle" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Remember the importance of play. </span><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-weight: normal;"></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoTitle" style="text-align: left;">
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-weight: normal;">Vocation, ministry, and family life often bring
challenges that drain our energy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If we
want to be able to face those challenges consistently, we need to discipline
ourselves to recharge our energy in light-hearted ways.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, what do you love to do?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If it’s been so long since you’ve considered
having fun that you have no clue what you love to do, think back through the
years. What did you enjoy doing when you were a child or adolescent?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-weight: normal;">When I first considered this question, I remembered
that as a child I had enjoyed playing the flute, sewing, swimming, walking in
the woods, painting, and reading—but I hadn’t done any of those things in
years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I began experimenting with
these simple pleasures from the past—and a few new ones as well—and it changed
my life!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It brought me joy and energy
that I need in order to face the more difficult areas of life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoTitle" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoTitle" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-weight: normal;">If you’re not sure where to start, begin to
experiment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is there something you used
to do but gave up long ago because it seemed frivolous? Is there something
you’d love to try but you think it seems silly at your age?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Try it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Again, just a little bit of time spent in a soul-filling pleasure can increase
the energy, passion, and joy that you can bring to the people you love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoTitle" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoTitle" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Partner with another woman in a similar situation</span><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-weight: normal;">.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoTitle" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-weight: normal;">Shortly after Henry was born, Shauna set up a
schedule with another young mom to trade childcare and food preparation on a
weekly basis.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On Tuesday afternoons,
Shauna cared for both babies, while Annette spent several hours on a work
project and then cooked dinner for both families.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The next Tuesday afternoon they reversed
rolls.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoTitle" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div align="left" class="MsoTitle" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; font-weight: normal;">When my kids were preschoolers, I had a similar
arrangement with a friend whose son and daughter were the same ages as
mine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I used my “time off” for
meaningful work, catching up on details, solitude, or play—whichever I most
needed on a given day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Too often women
operate in isolation rather than working together as allies and making life
easier for all of us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let’s change
this!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Communicate clearly
and constructively with your family</b>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One afternoon I sat down at the kitchen table with my
husband and grade-school children and visually illustrated the reality of our
family life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On a big piece of paper, I
drew a large circle in the middle with four small circles around it. The large
circle represented the corporate life of our family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In it I listed the tasks required to keep a
home and family operating: cleaning, grocery shopping, carpooling,
administrative details, etc.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The small
circles represented the individual interests for each family member:
friendships, meaningful work, ministry, education, recreation, etc.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One by one, I filled the small circles with the personal
activities of each person’s life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But
when I came to my small circle, it was empty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I explained that I was so consumed with the responsibilities of our
corporate life as a family and with helping each of them keep their little
circles going, that I had no time to squeeze anything personal into my little
circle. “I don’t think this is fair,” I said.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“I deserve a little circle too.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Both Bill and the kids realized that we had to re-negotiate
responsibilities in our family life in order to allow me some of the same
opportunities they had. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was no
easy answer to the division of labor and responsibility in our family, but that
conversation opened the way for us to begin making small changes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">
All parents go through seasons
of life when the large circle and the kids’ small circles require enormous
amounts of time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s necessary and
reasonable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But if we consistently feel
empty—as if we’re shriveling up inside—we owe it to ourselves, to our families,
and to God to work toward a constructive, mutually workable solution that will
free us to offer our gifts and love to the world with greater strength and
passion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">
Almost every positive change
I’ve made in life I made too late.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
wasted unnecessary time floundering in frustration before taking the steps that
could lead me toward joy. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve tended to
let myself get <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">so desperate</i> that I
either had to change or die! (At least that’s how it felt.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t recommend that as a way to live.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But if you tend to live that way too, and
you’re feeling a bit desperate right now, please view this blog as a wake-up
call.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Take it seriously. Today, grab
hold of just one suggestion, thought, sentence, or even a single word in this
blog to help you move an inch toward a better future. Here are some
possibilities:</div>
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<br /></div>
<ul style="margin-top: 0in;" type="disc">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-outline-level: 1;">Be
honest. </li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-outline-level: 1;">If you're feeling depressed, frustrated or angry, admit it. </li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-outline-level: 1;">Talk
to a friend. </li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-outline-level: 1;">Make
an appointment with a counselor. </li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-outline-level: 1;">Pay attention to your energy level.
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-outline-level: 1;">Identify
one activity you do that consistently drains you.</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-outline-level: 1;">Identify
one activity that consistently boosts your energy.</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-outline-level: 1;">What are your dreams for the future? Or, what <i>were</i> they before you gave them up? </li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-outline-level: 1;">Do you have time-consuming commitments that you could eliminate?</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-outline-level: 1;">Think
of one activity/task/responsibility you could give up (and the world would
still go on turning).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-outline-level: 1;">Look
at your calendar and find one hour in your week that you could devote to
something you really want to do.</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-outline-level: 1;">Discipline yourself to play. </li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-outline-level: 1;">Name
one thing you love to do, even if you haven’t done it for 20 years.</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-outline-level: 1;">Name
one thing you’d like to do, even though you’ve never tried it. </li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-outline-level: 1;">On
next week’s calendar find an hour where you can write, “Play.” </li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-outline-level: 1;">Use
the next few days to think of what you’re going to do in that playful
hour.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-outline-level: 1;">Set
aside 15 minutes—today—to enjoy a simple pleasure: a cup of tea, a few
pages in a favorite novel, a walk around the block (or the apartment
complex or the house), listening to music, writing in a journal, sitting
in an easy chair and looking out the window, anything!</li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-outline-level: 1;">Pursue a partnership. </li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-outline-level: 1;">Ask a
friend to “share kids” this week, providing two free hours for her, then
two free hours for you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t make
a big deal about it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Suggest a
one-time swap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>See how it
goes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Or at least start thinking
about whom you could talk to about sharing kids. Your default thought
process might suggest that <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">this
would never work </i>or <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I don’t know
whom to ask. </i>Please don’t listen to default negatives!<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </i>Think about it. Pray about it.
It’s really a good idea!) </li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-outline-level: 1;">Draw
circles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></li>
<li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; mso-outline-level: 1;">Fill
in circles for you and your family. What does that reveal?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Think and pray about how best to talk to
your family about the circles. Maybe even practice by explaining your
circles to a friend. (Don’t be impulsive with this. Seriously. You
probably have something really important to say.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t undermine it by speaking
carelessly.) </li>
</ul>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">
What about you? Can you relate?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Have other ideas or thoughts to add?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’d love your comments!</div>
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<br /></div>
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lynne hybelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770393832000915864noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8423916276727264510.post-55639735869330674452013-05-11T16:33:00.000-05:002013-05-11T16:33:06.774-05:00I Love You Mom! See You Next Week!<br />
Dear Mom,<br />
<br />
When I scheduled this long speaking tour on the West Coast I didn't realize I'd be gone over Mother's Day. I'm so sorry I won't be having lunch with you and Dad. Or sitting by you in the glider listening to the melodies coming from your assortment of backyard birdhouses, bird feeders, and bird baths. Or checking out the progress of the spring blossoms in your tidy little perennial garden. Or laughing with you at the antics of great-grand-baby Marcele, your namesake. <br />
<br />
I haven't forgotten I promised you multi-colored impatiens, tuberous begonias, and mixed coleus for your Mother's Day gift. But I've decided to postpone their arrival until I can be there to help you plant them and brighten up the shady side of the "back forty." I figured that would be okay with you. <br />
<br />
We've had fun the last few months, haven't we? This month, of course, we're thrilled to be able to celebrate Dad's returning health after successful chemo treatments. But even during the days and weeks that were wrapped in the dark fabric of fear, there were threads of gold in that fabric, weren't there? Remember the long afternoon we sat at a round table in the hospital waiting room, drinking vanilla soy lattes and talking about your high school boyfriends, your first date with dad, and the girl that made you jealous when she asked him to dance? I thought I'd heard all those stories before, but so many new details emerged during those slow hours of waiting. <br />
<br />
You were quite the feisty lady at eighteen when you married Dad! By twenty-one, when you gave birth to me, you were in the midst of a Honolulu adventure with your handsome navy sailor (and surfer) husband, Bob Barry. Apparently you and I (young mom and baby girl) thoroughly enjoyed our lazy days playing in the sand and water of Waikiki. It was fun to look again at the old Hawaii photos, though I must admit you looked a lot better in your bikini than I did in mine! (Bikinis and diapers are never a good combination.)<br />
<br />
One thing I enjoyed discovering about you this winter was how much you love "sparkles." In the past, sparkles--as in sequins, rhinestones, and shiny fabrics--were reserved for cocktail dresses or mother-of-the-bride attire. Since you haven't been deep into the party scene (at least not since I was born) I've never seen your sparkly side. But those black glitter Tom's shoes I gave you this winter apparently opened your eyes to a whole new world. The world of casual sparkles! Va-va-voom! Dangling earrings. Sequined t-shirts. Silver purses. Cobalt-colored skinny jeans with studded pockets. Seriously! You shimmer now, Mom--from head to toe--and I love it! <br />
<br />
Not so dazzling, but even more impressive, is your willingness to brush up your long-neglected typing skills on the hand-me-down iPad you just received from your daughter (that would be me). I never blamed you for not writing emails on Dad's old clunker of a computer. But I was hoping you'd move outside your comfort zone long enough to send me an email or two on the iPad. And you did it! I love it every time I receive an email from "Leah Marcele." I was grateful when you started sending your single sentence messages. But holy cow, Mom, this week your emails have been downright newsy--with splashes of humor, even! Thank you, thank you, thank you for inspiring me with the model of a woman who keeps on growing and changing. I hope I'm still learning new skills when I'm a month shy of 83!<br />
<br />
You know that wherever I travel in the world I snap photos of beautiful flowers. Even if you and I didn't look almost exactly alike, we could probably prove our mother/daughter connection simply by the intensity of our shared passion for flowers. True, I just photograph them while you actually grow them...but still. So, for Mother's Day I was going to send you a collection of my ten favorite "global flowers." Unfortunately, some evil spirit descended on my computer and blocked access to my ALL MY PHOTOS. Yikes! I'm sure my personal computer angel will find my photos for me when I get back home, but I had to come up with a different plan for Mother's Day. <br />
<br />
So, my patient travel companions will tell you that throughout this week, in between speaking engagements and meetings, I've repeatedly wandered away with my iPhone in search of flowers. I'm glad we've been hanging out in places like Phoenix and Orange County and San Francisco, where there actually are flowers in May. I didn't capture any truly spectacular shots (it's hard to be artsy when you're in a hurry) but the flowers I photographed make me happy--and I know they'll make you happy too. So I'm sending you a collection of my favorites from the week. Sit back, Mom, and let these bits of beauty feed your soul. I love you and I'll see you next week.<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />lynne hybelshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770393832000915864noreply@blogger.com0