The Lorax, a Tree-Hugging Friend

Environmental Science.  Sixth Grade.  It ruined me.  Or better put, it opened my eyes to my part of ruining our precious planet.  It is where I learned about population over-growth, landfills, pollution, and global-warming.  It was the fire under my feet that urged me to urge my parents to begin saving our "recyclables" and to begin a compost pile in the corner of our yard, next to the woods.  And it's what eventually caused my husband to label me a "tree-hugger" when we were first married (all for telling him that we needed to get a recycling bin!)  

My husband has come a long way (he blessedly bought me a composting sphere for Christmas two years ago!), and I now have two offspring who bring trash in from the outside, shaking their heads and saying, "Some people just do not care about our Earth, Mommy!"  Ahh... nothing warms a mother's heart more.  

So it should come to no surprise when I tell you that I cried at the end of The Lorax, the new film based off of the children's story by Dr. Seuss.  We took the kids to see it last Saturday for our first big-screen movie as an entire family.  And, boy, was this worth seeing!  Sure, it's an extreme example of environmental destruction, but the message is powerfully relevant for our times (and for anyone trying to live a glo-burban life).  

The Onceler reveals to the audience that environmental destruction is rooted in greed.  His desire to do something BIG, to be RECOGNIZED, and to make LOTS OF MONEY fuels his decision to chop down every last tree, with no regard to how the trees are such an important part of sustainable life.  The trees are not only beautiful and mysterious, but they make up an essential part of the habitat for the bears, the birds and the fish.  The loss of the trees is also the loss of the lives that depend upon them.  

Living in suburban America, I realize that I am part of this larger Greed.  Where I live, where I shop, how much I drive my car, what I buy... all of these decisions contain a carbon footprint.  Sometimes it's easier not to care, not to wonder whose water is being contaminated by my trash or what river is drying up due to the furniture I buy (deforestation) or whose lungs are being contaminated by my car's emissions.  These thoughts bring with them a sense of responsibility, a knowledge that my actions affect others' lives, that I am just one being here on Earth and yet am also connected to this beautiful web of life.

But the inspirational message from The Lorax comes when the the hero of the movie, a teenage boy named Ted, realizes that his voice matters, and declares, "I'm Ted.  And I speak for the trees."  He makes a decision to challenge the assumptions of those in his town.  He questions their belief that plastic can replace Nature, that Capitalism does not have consequences, that human life is disconnected from the rest of Creation, that humans have the right to abuse Creation.  

Ted challenges me.  I can pretend that my life has little ripple effect, but I know that this is not true. Having any global awareness at all reveals the fact that American consumerism (i.e. greed) fuels much of the environmental devastation around our globe... from warring over oil, diamonds, gold, and titanium... to wanting to eat cheap, fast food... to building economic empires... to chasing the latest and the greatest stuff... This lack of contentment, this lack of reverence for our God-given home... it snags at each of us.  

And so what to do?  How to contain the "spirit of the Lorax"?  I think it begins with educating ourselves.  When we begin to understand what is happening in our world and what we can do about it, we then can make choices that are healing, rather than greedy.  Secondly, I look to my pocket book.  Where am I spending my money?  In a culture that is driven by the dollar, do I want to encourage greedy businesses that make heavy carbon footprints on this earth?  Or would I rather support the many, creative enterprises (often times very small) that value human life and environmental sustainability?

For a better understanding of where our stuff goes when we're bored with it, check this out: The Story of Stuff

For a look at the impact of global-warming, check out An Inconvenient Truth.

To learn more about Rain Forest Devastation, read this.

To learn about earth-friendly, alternative cleaning products, click here.

To shop fairtrade check out: Fair Trade USA, Ten Thousand Villages, or Green America 

To better understand our role in the food chain, watch Food Inc.

How are you trying to follow the spirit of the tree-hugging Lorax?

Falling Off the Treadmill

Sometimes it's tough trying to live the "glo-burban life" I am trying to live.  It turns out that many of the blessings of living in the suburbs (being only 5 minutes away from Target, a half dozen grocery stores, a handful of gyms to choose from, and a myriad of places to eat out) have a flip-side "curse" to them as well.  See, there are a lot of opportunities to do a lot of wonderful things, and each one is just within reach.  There are ballet and karate classes, sports of every kind, art institutes that offer art, music, and drama courses, birthday parties at Chuck-E-Cheese, BodyZone and the local skating rink, Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts... and all of this is just for the kids!  For the middle-class couple, there are career ladders to climb up, exercise classes to "tune-up," at least two cars to fix up, and social circles to keep up, not to mention all those meetings for work, school, and church.  It's my observation that for the average suburban family, life is just one non-stop treadmill ride with flashing signs that scream, "OPPORTUNITY HERE!!!" at every glance.  And you know what happens when you try slowing your pace on a treadmill... you end up in a heap on the floor.

I say it's tough living the "glo-burban life" because creating a meaningful existence in this rat-race culture means running at a much slower pace.  Sometimes it even means sitting down in the road for awhile.  And when you sit down while others are running frantically around you, you tend to wonder if you are lazy... or maybe crazy.  The last year or so, I have been sitting down a lot more often.  I've looked around at the over-scheduled moms and dads and kids; I've overheard the impatient tones (too many times in my own voice) that more-or-less mean the same thing: "I don't have time for you or what you are feeling or wanting to talk about; we're going to be late!"  I've asked myself, where is everyone going anyway?

So why have I been practicing "sitting out" more often?  Well, for starters, I want to know where I am headed.  I thought I was headed to working a full-time job as a teacher once my children were in school.  Then I began subbing two years ago and realized I felt completely anxious in the shoes of a teacher and drained by this type of work.  I imagined how life would have to change if I dedicated myself to teaching, and I came to the conclusion that I am not cut out for the life of a teacher (no matter how much I admire them with all my heart!).  I am also not willing to make certain sacrifices I would no doubt have to make on my time with my family and friends, with books, with quiet and solitude, with making meals from scratch.  Re-evaluating the course ahead calls for large doses of reflection, awareness, and patience.  That's why on random days when I am not subbing or volunteering somewhere, I might be found on a long walk or at the Jesuit Center's library or with my pen in my journal.  It takes time to discern the way ahead, and like we've said before, tread mills don't slow down.

I also sit out more often because I have learned the wisdom that the journey is more important than the end point.  Few people meet their "endpoints" (or accomplish their dreams in life), and those who do often feel disappointed when they finally get there.  The view wasn't as great as they had anticipated, and when they look back down the mountain, they realize they passed a lot of roses that needed smelling--many they even crushed in their effort of climbing.  I don't want to walk by any roses without stooping to drink in their unique fragrance.

I don't want to rush by any child of God who needs a smile (the kind where your eyes crease), whether that be my own two little ones or the sweet, quiet man who returns my grocery cart at Giant.  I don't want to pass by the trees when they have something to teach me or miss out on the beauty of a sunset or full moon because I have "somewhere to go."  I don't want to be so busy in "my important pursuits" that I can't hear the heartache in my friend's voice or see the stress on my husband's brow or feel the cuddle of my child who is growing up too fast.  I still want to be able to hear that still small Voice within me, the Voice which is usually only heard when my mind and body are stilled.

So what has this slowing down taught me so far?  I'm learning a lot of things actually.....

I've learned that my kids don't have to try EVERYthing out there to be happy.  "One thing at a time" has been working out pretty well.  We all are a lot happier when we spend a few nights a week at home, digesting our food slowly, talking about our days, perhaps reading, playing a game, or just doing our own thing side-by-side.

Sleep is a gift... and it is necessary to treasure it!  Burning the candle on both ends eventually gives me a headache, compromises my immune system, and always leaves me irritable.

Homemade bread is oh-so-delicious!!!  The process of kneading and waiting and rising binds me somehow to women around the world who spend long hours preparing food for their families.

Being is just as important as doing, maybe even more.

Taking care of the body is a sacred act.  Practicing yoga, walking, eating real food, and resting keeps me healthy and limber and allows me to give of myself more effectively.

Deep friendships need nourishing and are not to be taken for granted.  Coffee with a friend fills my soul and strengthens my steps for the journey.

Quantity of time does not equal quality of time.  I can spend many hours "living" under the same roof with my family members, but if those hours aren't infused with love and deep listening and patience and FUN, well then... they don't count.

God does not impose God's self.  Yet God's Spirit is always present.  My spirit tends to be dry, cracked, and infertile unless warmed and watered by the Spirit's presence.  It's really tough to be aware and open of this Presence when I am on a treadmill.

Will you join me in sitting out the rat-race of life every now and then?

Meet Caroline

I'm excited to introduce you to the newest member of our family.  Her name is Caroline. She lives in Kenya. She is twelve years old, and she shares the same birthday as mine.  We met her through Compassion's child sponsorship program, and she is the fourth child our family has had the opportunity to sponsor.

The story behind our coming to know her is very cool.  See, Jarred and I had been considering sponsoring another child for quite some time.  When we first got married we continued to sponsor James from Haiti, the boy I had been sponsoring since I was in high school.  When Jarred moved into a sales position five years ago, our income increased, and we decided to sponsor an additional child, Deboshree from India.  About a year ago, James had to leave the program, so we began sponsoring another little Haitian boy, Marvens.  Just recently, we refinanced our home, which helped decrease our monthly mortgage payment.  We talked about sponsoring an additional child but drug our feet.  Spending increased during the holidays, and we were waiting to see how things shook out.

Then right after New Year's, I met with a friend for lunch, and at the end of our outing, she handed me an envelope to open in the car.  She told me she felt like she was supposed to give it to me.  When I opened it, I was shocked.  Inside were five $20.00 bills!  What?!  I thought.  Doesn't she need this more than me?  Her family is going through a major job change, and so I am assuming their financial security is much shakier than ours.  And yet she was moved to give during this shaky time.  I was very touched by her generosity and thought I must put this to good use.  It didn't take me long to realize now was the perfect time to begin sponsoring an additional child.  No more excuses.  That $100 would nearly cover the cost of the first three months of sponsorship.

So we sat down as a family and did a search for children who shared my birthday.  I was drawn to Caroline for a couple of reasons.  First of all, she's a girl.  The saying goes something like this: when you educate a girl, you educate a village.  The empowerment of women is directly linked to the decrease of poverty, violence, and disease around the world since girls become women and women become mothers.  Secondly, I had the opportunity to visit Kenya when I was in college and so have a special place in my heart for Kenyans.  Thirdly, Caroline's community has been touched by HIV/AIDS and other life-threatening diseases, so I love that we are able not only to help her receive an education but to have access to health services and nutritious meals.

I believe that child sponsorship is one of the best ways to combat some of the greatest social evils in our world.  When you provide the basic needs of a child, you are helping a child remain in his or her family (combating the need for orphanages).  You are offering a child an education (combating illiteracy and ignorance). You are offering a child a future (combating extreme poverty or prostitution). You are offering a child health (combating starvation and disease).  You are offering a child love and hope (combating violence and despair).

If you are considering sponsoring a child, I would urge you consider these two sponsorship programs, Compassion and World Vision.  Both are highly reputable and allow you to have written correspondence with your child, which I think is of vital importance.  Our family likes to send family and school pictures, stickers, bookmarks, and handmade notes and pictures to our children.  Consider changing the world, one child at a time.

Big, Beautiful World!

The world is a beautiful place, isn't it?  So rich in diversity!  I have not traveled it extensively by any means, but I feel that one of the blessings of living in a suburban area such as mine is that you get to rub shoulders with a lot of different people!

Take just today for example.  This morning I ventured into the city, a ten minute drive from my home, to teach my weekly ESL class.  Most of our students are Latino, but there is a quiet Iranian woman who wears some beautiful head scarves and an elderly Chinese woman with a big, toothy smile and a passionate zeal to learn.  After that I drove to Lancaster County to visit my Mennonite friend for spiritual direction.  Then I made a stop at an Amish grocery store where I listened to a conversation between the Amish girl with a Dutch accent behind the counter and her customers--a short, elderly couple with a strong Asian accent.  That's when it hit me.  Wow!  Such diversity!  In my own backyard!

Two weekends ago I had another experience that struck me with how huge, but also how close, the world is.  I attended a spiritual retreat at a Jesuit Center, only fifteen minutes from my home.  If you don't know much about the Jesuits as I hadn't, they are a priesthood of the Roman Catholic Church.  At this enormous, grand Jesuit Center with statues and stained glass windows was a quiet Quaker woman who gave a seminar on the topic of discernment.  The woman who sat beside me during the seminar was a first generation Philipino-American pastor. And the other retreatants I met during the weekend seemed to come from a wide range of faith backgrounds.

I am often reminded that my story, my understanding and experience of life, is just that... mine.  There are countless other stories, understandings, and experiences that are separate from my own.  Our world is definitely getting smaller, and if I want to get along with my neighbors, I must listen to their stories.  I must try to understand other perspectives.  I must be willing to learn from my brothers and sisters from around the globe and from my brothers and sisters who may have a different faith perspective than my own.

This is a part of the "glo-burban" journey I am on.  I believe it is the journey of life.

Remembering Haiti Today

I was going about my morning.  I jumped in the car to head over to my daughter's class to volunteer.  NPR was on, and that was when I was reminded that today marks the two-year anniversary of Haiti's 35-second nightmare.  Though I like to keep up with current world events, I am one of those types that cannot watch the news.  The violent images and overall negative commentary is sometimes too overwhelming.  What I find much more appealing is learning about stories of hope and how I can become a part of those.  I came across this article written by Tom Arnold, CEO of Concern Worldwide, a very highly rated NGO on Charity Navigator.

Mr. Arnold highlights some of the amazing strides Haiti has made over the last two years as well as explains the many challenges to rebuilding.  I was impressed by his understanding that rebuilding successfully relies on the partnerships of the community, the government, non-profits, and international aid.  When all of these are working together that is when long-term solutions become possible.  (Too often non-profits or other nations giving aid assume they understand a community's needs better than the local community, and too often money, time, and energy is wasted needlessly.)  Concern's model of "Returning to the Neighborhoods" is considered by Haiti's government the best practice in helping families resettle, and already they have reached 237,000 people through their emergency and recovery programs.

This article makes me hopeful that the nation of Haiti has much potential to come out stronger than before this devastation.  I'd encourage you to read this short article, check out the work of Concern Worldwide, and pray for continued Light to lead Haiti out from its dark night and into a bright new day.

Sacred Food

What is it about food that makes it such a powerful force in our lives?  And isn't it just that... a powerful force?  Don't our lives, our very physical existence, revolve around food?  Around meals?  And isn't it more than that?  More than just energy for the body?

I was challenged once by a book I read to look at ordinary things of life as sacred.  The Catholic faith tradition has named seven sacraments, but this author prefers to look at even a cup of coffee as sacred.  And I like his way of thinking.  I think it is not the cup of coffee that is sacred in and of itself, but the intentional enjoyment of its rich, warm flavor upon the lips of the drinker that creates a sacred moment.  When the one drinking the coffee reflects on the gift of coffee beans and the labor of those harvesting and roasting the beans and the amazing sense of taste, all of a sudden the act of drinking a cup of coffee has become a sacred moment.

I used to look at food through two lenses that I believe inhibited my ability to see the sacred nature of food.  The first lens was that of How will this affect my taste buds?  And usually if the food tasted very sweet or very salty (like my childhood favorite of a McDonald's strawberry milkshake and french fries), I deemed the food quite "good." The second lens developed in my teen years: How will this affect the shape of my body?  And since it was the Fat-Free Craze of the 90's, I tried to prevent my body from growing fat by eliminating almost all meat, cheese, and fats of ANY kind from my diet. I literally stopped liking those foods.  I lived on "fat-free" carbohydrates... Nutri-Grain bars, meatless spagetti, banana bread, apples, corn bread, carrots, bread with jelly (never butter!), graham crackers, bread, bread, bread....

These two views of food left me largely unsatisfied with food.  I could not understand why I continued to crave more food even after stuffing myself (with sugars and carbs).  It took me years to learn that my body was telling me that it was still hungry, hungry for other fuels such as fats, proteins, and vitamins.  Food became my enemy... a wild animal that I must control lest I grew huge and unattractive.  I tried skipping meals.  I tried making myself throw up when I could not restrict my eating.  I compared what I ate to everyone around me. I thought about food ALL the time.  It was a terrible way to live.  

A nutrition class during my freshman year of college began shaping my understanding of how food functions in the body.  There I learned that we need fat in our diet to burn the sugar and carb calories.  I began eating a varied diet and found that I felt much more satiated and did not blow up into a balloon (I actually lost weight).  When I became a mother, I began paying attention to which foods lined my pantry.  All of a sudden, I didn't want to buy milk with added growth hormones (could this send my innocent child into early puberty?) or produce with chemicals sprayed all over them (could this cause cancer in that perfect little body some day?)  Over the last few years it is safe to say I have developed a passion for nutrition.  I now find it fascinating and fulfilling to discover which foods our bodies were meant to eat and how to prepare them in delicious ways. 

My food lenses have changed. I now desire to eat real food, food that nourishes my body, causing it to feel healthy, energetic, and strong.  Afterall, if what I ingest is not nourishing my body, can I really call it food?  Isn't the very definition of food something that nourishes?  And isn't this physical nourishment a sort of sacrament?  I now find it a near holy act to sit down before a table of garden greens, homemade soup, and fresh-baked muffins and share in a nutritious, delicious meal with loved ones.  

There is something also in the preparation of food that makes it sacred.  A beautiful circle of creativity is involved to bring food to the table. Foremost, our Creator has graciously created an earth to sustain--to nurture--human life.  Think of the many kinds of meat, the vegetation, the vines which produce fruit and berries, the bees which produce honey, the cattle which produce milk, the birds which produce eggs, the trees which produce nuts and syrup, and the oceans which produce fish.  Then there is the faithful nurturing of the earth which we owe our gratitude to the farmers (especially to those who farm in a manner that respects the earth and human life).  And finally there is the love, time and creativity given by the hands of those who prepare the food into tasteful dishes... into food that nourishes, pleases, and satisfies.

While attending a spiritual retreat in West Virgina last summer, I was struck by the simple yet profound blessing the retreat leader gave before our meals.  It went something like this:

"We give thanks to God, to the earth, and to the hands that prepared this food."

I wonder where else we might see the Sacred if we looked more intently.



For a documentary on the problem with our American processed foods, click here.  For a list of 12 of the highest contaminated fruits and vegetables, click here.  To learn more about grassfed animals, click here.  For an excellent blog about cooking with local, fresh ingredients, click here.  And for a great cookbook on eating what's in season, click here.

Resolving to Read

I love making New Years Resolutions.  Some only last so long, such as the annual resolution to go to bed earlier and wake up earlier.  Others have been almost life-changing, such as when a few years ago I resolved to "giving up TV" except for watching The Office, the only show that Jarred and I both shared in common.  I realized that I had become addicted to wasting time watching "reality shows" on a screen rather than living in reality.  It was then that I became a reader and found other more important things to do in the evening.

So this year one of my resolutions is to read one hour a day.  I have a long list of books waiting to be read as well as a large pile gifted to me for Christmas.  I cannot wait to delve inside their covers and get lost in the novel my brother gave me.  But I am especially looking forward to reading some of the non-fiction books given me.  There are so many amazing people whose lives have created beautiful, inspiring stories--stories that continue to inspire new stories in new people.

Since I am trying to live with a greater global perspective, I want to read stories outside the walls of my familiar territory.  I want to learn more about the movers and shakers of world history, not just of American history.  I want to learn from those outside of my own religious upbringing.  I want to learn from those whose economic and social and ethnic backgrounds differ from my own.

I am beginning with one of my Christmas books from my mother-in-law, Where There is Love, There is God, words and teachings from Mother Teresa, edited by Brian Kolodiejchuk, M.C.  Here is a life of a devoted Catholic nun, an Albanian woman who spent most of her life ministering to the poorest of the poor in Calcutta, India. Though I have only read the first chapter, I am already amazed by this woman's love for God, her simplicity, and her love for all people.  This woman's close connection to the Source of Love enabled her to see God's imprint on every human being, even the Hindu Indians with whom she lived.

Mother Teresa did not believe that everyone was called to Calcutta as she was, though thousands of Missionaries of Charity, sisters and brothers, were spread around the world at the time of her death, loving the poorest of the poor just as she had.  She believe everyone ought to find their own Calcutta.

There was once a man from Holland who came to her and told here that he had a lot of money.  She told him that she didn't need his money.  He asked if he should sell his big house and his expensive car.  She told him, "No.  But what I want you to do is to go back and see some of the many lonely people that live in Holland.  Then every now and then, I want you to bring a few of them at a time and entertain them.  Bring them in that big car of yours and let them enjoy a few hours in your beautiful house.  Then your big house will become a center of love--full of light, full of joy, full of life" (Where There is Love, There is God, p.28).

So at the start of this New Year, I am asking myself what does it look like for me, for you, to create "centers of love"?  In our own homes? In our own communities?  In the larger world?