These Days

These days have an aura of holy and messy permission and rebellion. My “straight and narrow” map lie crumpled from never quite getting the folds aligned neatly. I’m suddenly remembering that God allows U-turns and pauses at scenic overlooks; that flat tires are a part of life (and keep the tire store in business), that there are days meant for sticking your feet out of the rolled down window of the passenger side, toes wiggling around in the warm wind.

These days I’m finding that I’m less concerned about where I’m going to church, and how often, and who might say what and react in what way if I miss a week or go to that church verses this church. I’m more concerned with living in community, in the many diverse ways that takes shape; whether in Tuesday prayer group with new friends who’ve welcomed me in the faith state exactly as I am with open arms; friends who haven’t found their next church, but get that it’s all about community. Whether it’s listening to the man on the front stoop down the street mourn the loss of his cat and realizing just what that cat meant to him, acutely aware of the human connection and longings for attachment. Whether it’s lying in the meadow near a bee apiary with a new friend, pondering what it means to learn to love the darkness and the light. Whether it’s in biking 52 miles with a group of Presbyterians or finding community through Thursday night running group, where one can start to learn people’s names, people’s stories. You bond over running, and running itself is a gift from God; to be able to move and run and think and breathe. I find God here. I don’t need a Bible to be open or a “worship song” to be sung. I’ve found God in the sun setting over the inner harbor and in watching people high five after their kick-me-in-the-ass, that-was-hard-but-I-feel-great now endorphin run. Runs that get me winded and in pain and forever reminded of my dependence upon God.

These days I’m less concerned with how much I am/am not/”should” be giving to church and more concerned with honoring the poor with my time and finances.

These days I’m less concerned by how many hours I “should” be serving, and determining which social justice ministry I “should” be a part of and more concerned with enjoying God and finding him there. God of trees and flowers. God of Sunday Sabbath walks, present in my skyward gazes. These days I’m more concerned with tangibly showing the people I care about that I actually care about them with my time and money.

These days I’m less concerned about saying the “right” things about the Bible and more excited about thoroughly examining what’s actually in here; the wrestling with God of genocide, infanticide, sexism, compassion, the call to serve the poor, the celebrations and laments of life spent worshipping the Ancient of Days…

These days I’m less concerned with finding exactly what entails “God’s will for my life,” as if every decision is black or white, clearly dichotomized as following Jesus or not. I’m less preoccupied with trying to “figure out” what His will is or is not and more excited about BEING in it with God. More accepting of the fact that God isn’t going to tell me the answer to every upcoming decision in the immediacy I would like. More accepting of the fact that sometimes “figuring out God’s will” means taking chances and risking failure and saying goodbye to living the innocuous life. Oh sometimes you live so small, you hand-crafted Child of God. I’m ready to let go of talking over every last thing with God as if God just wants to talk,talk,talk with us. Instead, I want go get on with the DOING, the being, the adventure. I want to dive in, making cannonball splashes with this God by my side, daring me to do life with Him, daring me to stop being so afraid of disappointing Him or of making the wrong decision. Instead, I will blithely smile, completely confident that he can see all that I cannot, and that he is the author who redeems and uses ALL THINGS for my good; yes, even the deserts that I have created out of my own self-focused fear of taking chances, as opposed to God-ordained time in the Sahara because God explicitly sent me there.

So oh, yes. Freedom is coming. It’s just starting to arrive; I’m strapped in, seated inside the clankety rollercoaster, almost reaching the pinnacle now; in fact, I can almost feel the rush of wind and the ebullient, fearfully excited scream ensued by the velocity of the downward fall of the track. Oh yes. I’ve swan-dived off the diving board; hair now wet from the pursuit of exploring the deep end. But this isn’t it. Though I’ve jumped in the pool, I haven’t yet tackled the ocean and hey, I just discovered a pair of fins, so maybe I’ll snorkel, or better yet, scuba dive…

Because there’s a deluge coming. And I can’t wait to get soaked.

Yes. That’s what I’m doing these days.

For Where Your [Treasury] is, There Your Heart Will be Also

April 30, 2012

With the same dollar that says, “In God we Trust,” America funds exploited foreign labor of men and women from developing countries in American combat zones in Iraq and Afghanistan. While attending an International Justice Mission advocacy workshop a couple of weeks ago, righteous anger filled my heart as I learned about this and the many horrors of labor trafficking stemming from U.S. government contracting. Volunteers imbued to do something about human trafficking took to Washington D.C. on April 16 to lobby for three specific bills that will address trafficking.

The one that grabbed my attention most was the End Trafficking in Government Contracting Act introduced in March 2012 by 11 senators and congress members from both political parties to address the deceptive and dehumanizing practice of foreign worker exploitation. Currently, the United States uses three main defense contractors (KGB, Fluor, and DynCorp International), who then subcontract to other subcontractors, subcontracting even further to reach global subcontractors, many of which are on the human-trafficking noncompliance list.1 These recruiter agents then go to countries such as India, Nepal, Bangladesh, and other developing countries to recruit locals, eager for employment. Individuals are promised a job in a big city like Dubai upon paying an exorbitant recruiting fee (an average of $3,000) to pay for a visa and travel. Since many individuals cannot afford this fee, they will go to a loan shark, where they are charged 35-45% interest or use their house as collateral.1 The individual is then given a tourist visa (not a permanent visa), and instead of arriving at a five star hotel in Dubai, they find themselves in the middle of a U.S. Combat Zone on a U.S. military base. Known as “third country nationals (TCNs),” these workers serve in occupations such as janitors, cooks, and hairdressers serving American Army men, women, and families, making half of the money they were promised, living in a dangerous environment.

Despite having a zero tolerance on human trafficking, more than 250,000 people have been victims of labor trafficking on U.S. government contracts in Iraq and Afghanistan over the past 10 years2; combat zones that we (the U.S.) created. Instead of starting our own war and dealing with the implications of that (that’s a whole other story), we are now suddenly bringing other countries’ citizens into our war, without their prior knowledge, through deceitful forced labor. Hidden in some contracts to TCNs are consent to work “seven days a week, twelve hours per day.”1 Additionally, there have been cases of harassment and repeated sexual abuse. 1 Some workers were housed on soiled mattresses with twenty five other migrants from countries around the world. Not only faced with harsh living conditions and paltry pay, workers face the risks of mortar fire, rocket attacks, and explosive devices. One woman interviewed in the New Yorker recalled that “a Kevlar helmet and bulletproof best sat at the foot of her bed.” Hardly the beauty salon in Dubai that she had been promised.1 Worse off, in an attempt to disrupt U.S. supply chains in 2004, Sunni militants kidnapped, blew up truckers, shot and even beheaded TCNs to send the message that they should be punished for working with the U.S.2 Many of these workers find themselves unable to escape their situations because their passports and other forms of documentation have been sequestered from them. For the few who do make it home, many encounter difficulties paying off their loans to the loan shark.

The End Trafficking in Government Contracting Act addresses these problems by promoting prevention, accountability, and enforcement. Contractors with contracts of over $1 million must implement compliance plans to prevent trafficking abuses such as confiscating passports, misrepresenting work location, and activities supporting the procurement of viable sex acts. This bill will improve accountability by requiring a contractor to notify the Inspector General if they receive “credible evidence” that a subcontractor has engaged in prohibited conduct. Investigations of such cases will be required and findings must be reported to the public. Finally, the bill will strengthen enforcement of polices by taking action against violations, including the removal of employee(s) or the debarment of the contractor.

While I think this bill is progress, I think there is a bigger issue at hand: Why are we creating policies to manage injustice rather than dismantling such systems? Why are we putting global citizens’ lives at risk in the first place? Why are we (the U.S.) paying men and women of developing countries unlivable wages, subjecting them to harassment, long work hours in dangerous conditions to begin with? Just to save money? Just so the casualties these workers are subjected to won’t be the death or injury of an American life? If Americans were hired for government work, labor polices would be in effect, including at least minimum wage, benefits, and liabilities. But we must not see third country nationals as deserving of such liberties, or else we would have already done so. We would have already made outcry and spoken instead of passively ignoring the issue with silence. It is our silence on such issues that sustain systems of corruption and injustice.

Whenever we value money over people, we will fail as humanity time and time again. When your priorities are power, defense, and capital, there is little room for respect and dignity. When we print, “In God We Trust” on our currency, are we trusting that God will bless our effort of military might and power, while ignoring our lack of dignity towards those of other countries? Do we trust that God supports our policies, however biased they are towards preserving American quality of life at all costs, simply because we sing “God Bless America” and have American flags in many of our churches? What does it say about the heart of America when our treasury funds a hierarchy of whose safety, well-being and labor “does” and “does not” really matter?

“For where you treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

Imagine a world where our time, money, energy, and priorities, are spent on love. Imagine a world where we don’t trust in the little gods of flags and patriotism, but we trust in the God of the Nations. Imagine a world where a Nepali life is valued as much as an American life. Imagine a world where we might be able to consider asking for God’s blessing because we not only love our neighbors, but we love and do good to our enemies. Imagine a world less focused on its borders and boundaries and a world that realizes that no matter which part of the Earth we reside, we are all ONE- humanity and life itself unite us, not our flags and fences. It seems to me that if we’re a nation that “trusts God,” then we should start trusting in the Kingdom values— That when Jesus talks about storing up treasures in Heaven, he meant that we are to invest in the attitudes and practices of the Kingdom of God: LOVE. What we spend our time, money, energy, voice, and very life on reveals what’s important in our lives, reveals what we stand for. Better than bills, greater than policy change, is loving and serving others (no matter the race or nationality), treating each person as you would like to be treated. THAT is worth placing our treasure in, and our hearts will be always and forevermore be changed.

So, what do you think?—

Are the lives of people in other countries valued as much as the lives of American people?

How can we support fair labor practices, not just in government contracting, but in our everyday purchases/expenditures?

Edmund Burke once said, “All that’s necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men [and women!] do nothing.” How do you feel about this?


To learn more:
1. (2011, November 2). Are government contractors exploiting workers overseas? Examining enforcement of the trafficking victims protection act.

2. Stillman, Sarah. (2011, June 6). The invisible army: For foreign works on U.S. bases in Iraq and Afghanistan, war can be hell. Retreived from www.


To act:
-Support the End Trafficking in Government Contracting Act of 2012 here:

Email, call, fax, or meet with your representatives and ask them to support anti-trafficking initiatives. Thank your legislators that do. Many organizations already have pre-filled email submission forms requesting support for legislature that individuals can sign for the organization to deliver. Check out the email campaigns of and

-Write an op-ed to your local newspaper explaining key trafficking issues, pieces of legislature that address them, and encourage community participation in any local anti-trafficking events. Create your own event if none exist. Changing the world is easier than you think 🙂