Each week, I have a standing appointment with a 3rd grade boy.  He is my “little brother” and I am his “big sister”.   We’ve met nearly every week (except for summers) for three years now.

I was blessed to be matched with such a cool and awesome young man.  Talk about a pure heart.  Seriously.  He is God’s goodness in the flesh.  I love my time with Aristide each week as we talk, play Candyland, Battleship or Old Maid.  We play math games on my iPhone and we talk about his goal to be a spy one day.

Even with all that love, I fight the temptation each Monday to press on with my work load or to do list and to see the time with this young man as an interruption.  But I made a commitment and I love him, so I go.

And 45 minutes later I’m reminded that I need this as much as he does.  He helps me remember what is important and that everyone needs to make time in their life to play Candyland with friends and family they love.  He teaches me that there is a time for work and a time for play.  He shows me that being present with someone else is as worthwhile, if not more worthwhile, than checking a box on my task list.

I hope one day that I don’t have to fight that temptation – with him or with other people.  Until then,  I remind myself of Princess Lolly and Queen Frostine and the sweetest one of them all – Aristide.

How do you balance work and fun?  What helps you fight the temptation of too much work and not enough play?  Leave a comment below!

“New Year’s eve is like every other night; there is no pause in the march of the universe, no breathless moment of silence among created things that the passage of another twelve months may be noted; and yet no man has quite the same thoughts this evening that come with the coming of darkness on other nights.” — Hamilton Wright Mabie

My mom posted this quote on her Facebook last year and although it didn’t resonate with me at first, I kept thinking about it. You see, I’m not one to make New Year’s Resolutions. I don’t get really sentimental about the ending of a old year and the beginning of a new one. I don’t have ambitious thoughts about how this upcoming year could be so much better than the last.

My personality typically has me living in the moment – not too much reflection or wishing for old days or regrets about past mistakes. Nor too much pining for a future dream or possibility. If I do tend to one, it would be dreaming. But I never really resolve to make those dreams happen. Perhaps I should do more of that but often I find living in the moment about all I can handle. 

Which maybe is the reason I don’t achieve a lot of dreams. Dreams like writing a book, starting a non-profit, getting back in shape, etc. You know what they say about “those without a vision …”.

There are moments where I realize how fast life is going and how if the last ten years went this quickly, the next ten will surely go quicker. It is in those moments that I also realize that if I don’t resolve to make some goals and take steps to meet them, I may find myself at the same place ten years from now. Not necessarily a bad life but definitely not the best.

So, I’m doing some reflecting on my dreams. Some thoughtful pondering about what I truly want out of life. And along with that, some clear goals that will enable me to realize those dreams.

One of these dreams is writing more. I use to blog every day. I use to engage my world in such a way that I had things to say, thoughts to share, questions to ask. But not in recent years. And I miss it.

So, goal one: to blog at least four times a week. Will you hold me to it?

What are some of your goals for 2012? What can I do to help hold you to your goals?

Joel Karanja and Ruth

I have a hero and his name is Joel Karanja.  Joel and his wife, Susan, are Kenyan and the founders of the House of Hope Home in Kenya, Africa.  I first met Joel three years ago on our first trip to Naivasha, Kenya, and every year he amazes and challenges me with his faith in God and his commitment to the children in the home.

Several years ago, Joel had a burden – a burden for the orphans and street children that he saw every day in his community.  He wanted to adopt them.  His wife, however, did not share his burden at first.  So Joel prayed.  He prayed for seven years that his wife would share his burden and God finally answered his prayers.

Joel and Susan have invested their entire lives in being a Jesus-neighbor to children in need.  Out of their own funds they purchased land and built structures to make a home that would provide for the physical, emotional, mental and spiritual needs of children – up to twenty-five boys and girls at this time.  The kids call them Dad and Mom and light up when Joel and Susan walk into a room. 

Joel and Susan are impacting the lives of families that live in the community around the school as well.  They help single moms who are caring for children, one with a daughter with special needs.  They provide dignified jobs for men and women in the community – at the home, at the school they built, and at the store that Joel owns.  Each year I return Joel has added on another room to his store and tells me what he plans to add next – all as a means to provide income for the needs of the home.  Joel and Susan don’t even own their own home although they could be the richest family in town with their earnings from the store.  But when you are obedient to God’s mission and not your own, then your goals in life are different than most.

Joel and Susan are Jesus with skin on.  They have moved into their neighborhood and God is being glorified.

Community members enjoying a meal at the SAME Cafe

About a year ago on our way to author Anne Lamott’s book reading in Kansas City, I was having a conversation with three ladies from our congregation on our growing desire to invest in our community. As a church, we are growing in our understanding that we are here for our city.  God has placed us in Jefferson City and wants us to reveal His kingdom in this place. That requires getting out of our building and truly investing in lives and meeting needs.

As we dreamed about ideas, one of the ladies, Heather Feeler, shared an article she had recently read about a ministry in Denver, Colorado, called the SAME Cafe.  (Stands for “So All May Eat”).  This cafe was started in 2006 by a couple, Brad and Libby Birky, who had a dream to build a healthy community by providing a basic need of food in a respectful and dignified manner to anyone who walks through the door. SAME Cafe is unique in the lack of a set menu as well as set prices. Daily selections are made using fresh, organic ingredients, and funded by the donations of patrons. Instead of a cash register, a donation box is available for one to pay what they felt their meal was worth, or to leave a little more and help out someone less fortunate. If a diner does not have sufficient money to leave, they are encouraged to exchange an hour of service. Their philosophy is that everyone, regardless of economic status, deserves the chance to eat healthy food while being treated with dignity.

Cooking in the cafe kitchen.

I’ve spent the past three days in Denver with Heather learning from and volunteering with the folks of SAME Cafe.  We spent all day Friday at the cafe prepping food, washing dishes, sorting donated food and shopping for food for a catering event.  It was exhausting!  Heather and I were in bed by 8:30 pm. It was a realistic taste of how much hard work goes into running the cafe. But it was so beautiful to see the mix of 65-75 people that came in for lunch that day. Each went to the counter to select their lunch – two salad options, two soup options, and two pizza options! Even a cookie.  It was delicious, healthy food!  There is a donation box at the front of the line where people can place their donations but no one knows who pays for their meal through money, labor, or those who do neither.  It truly is a community cafe where all are equal.

The second day we spent prepping box lunches for a couple of catering events. Heather and I went with Libby to take about 105 lunches, pizzas, and drinks to the Denver Justice Conference.  Great group of people gathered to learn about ways to fight local injustices. The meals were a hit and the SAME Cafe idea was shared along with another Denver Community Cafe called Cafe 180: Where Appetites Unite. This gave us another opportunity to visit with someone who has started a “Pay-What-You-Can-Cafe” in Denver.  There are currently 18 similar cafes in the United States – the only one in Missouri being Panera’s cafe in Clayton, MO.

It is our hope that Jefferson City will add to that number with our own pay-what-you-can cafe.  We are just at the beginning stages of this dream but we are closer than we were a year ago when this idea was first discussed in that car ride to Kansas City.  We will continue to share with others our journey as we pray and seek the next step in this Kingdom-revealing venture.

I’m reminded tonight of my bleeding heart. The reminder came from a football game.

Coach Pete Adkins

I grew up in the Pete Adkins era of Jays Football.  If you are from Missouri, you probably know what that means.  Coach Adkins won a lot of football games.  And his teams didn’t just win them.  They slaughtered the other team.  Every season the Jefferson City Jays would score 40, 50, 60-some points and the opposition would score “0″.   Our high school and town took great pride in it year after year.

In high school, I wasn’t really thrilled about it but I didn’t really care too much either.  Mostly, I just saw us as an overconfident, sometimes cocky school and community when it came to sports.  It was fun to win games but  it clearly went to our heads and other teams didn’t stand a chance.  I love to win (who doesn’t) but would prefer a close game.  I never played on a sports team and that is probably wise since I definitely lack a killer instinct.

After a few years where the Jays not only didn’t win by 60 points but didn’t win period, we are back to some Adkins-era scores this season – 36-0; 42-0.   Tonight was another night and with all the cheers coming across Facebook, I was instead thinking of the other team.  What a hard night for them – to play, possibly with everything they’ve got, and not score a single point.  To come out on the field and face a giant and get trounced.  My bleeding heart was stirred.  I’m too soft for sports, I think.

Perhaps the lowest point for my bleeding heart came at a comedy club in Vegas.  A few years ago, I went to Vegas for a long weekend with three girlfriends.  It was the birthday weekend for one of the friends and this was her  destination choice.  We stayed at the Mirage hotel and spent the days doing a variety of things – sitting by the pool, shopping, sight-seeing, etc.  Vegas is definitely not my type of town.  I didn’t enjoy the crowds or most of the activities.  Everything seemed to hurt my heart – watching folks spend hours and thousands of dollars in the casino, wondering whose lives, beside their own, they were throwing away with the dice; going to the shops and seeing the millions of dollars wasted on material things with zero worth; walking on paper advertisements selling girls – papers that litered the streets of Vegas.

By our last night in Vegas, I was emotionally drained and my heart was bleeding significantly. We had tickets to a local comedy  club for our final night in Vegas and went to the show.  The first two comedians were pretty funny – mostly self-deprecating humor.  But the third comedian was just mean.  He told joke after joke making fun of other people, the final straw being a joke about a boy with mental disabilities.

I was getting mad and wanted to punch his lights out.  But instead tears started to flow and I knew what was coming.  I told my friend I’d meet them outside after the show and rushed for the door as I began to just weep.  My heart had had all it could stand.

I’m standing in the lobby, crying and trying to gain my composure when two guards approach me.

“Ma’am, are you alright? Do you need any help?”

“Yes, please.  The comic is being mean.  Please make him stop.”

(Of course I didn’t say that.  I may be soft but I’m not an idiot. Instead, I replied ….)

“No, thank you.  I’ll be fine.  I just needed some fresh air.”

My friend swears she will never take me to Vegas again.  And that is just fine by me and my bleeding heart.

What makes your heart bleed?  Leave a comment here.