Egg-lampin' it up.

We are planning a wedding. With every day that passes it seems this massive blunt trauma of an idea finds new ways to come crashing down with hurricane force on our lives. 


I didn't realize I have no idea about colors, style or general taste until we went to register for our exciting, challenging and ever-approaching life together. With each of my successive suggestions and opinions it seemed like I was only stepping harder on that twisted ankle I realized my fashion taste is. With a quiet voice and sweet humility she would patiently wait until I was done voicing my thoughts on why I thought certain items were appropriate or "awesome because it's cool looking and so different!" then she'd affirm my masculinity and find something to compliment me on as she pointed out that what I had chosen was in no small way awful (careful to never say it in those words of course). 
I have no doubt she was right every time. And I love her. 


---


The myelin sheath consists of numerous Schwann cell wrappings along the length of the axon. Spaces occur between adjacent Schwann cells, leaving uninsulated areas, or neurofibral nodes (nodes of Ranvier), along the axons.
It had been several hours of studying, and my mind had slipped into a neurofibral node, a space, and I distracted.
My mouse drifted to the address bar and soon I was gliding through page after page of Target's countless stash of things you can buy and pay for in any number of ways when without warning there it was.
It was perfect.


A Himalayan Crystal Salt Lamp. 
So. Awesome. It was shiny, heavy, brightly colored and it glowed. It literally glowed. 
(After you plugged it in.) 
Standing eight and a half inches tall, it was lit from the inside, had a small wooden base, and looked like something directly out of Jurassic Park.
On my list of "Wow, that's so sweet" it stared eye-to-eye at an iPad 2. 


Jessa not only cringed when she saw it, she looked into my eyes and said gently "baby, I know you love that lamp. Is it alright if we don't register for it though?"
She is a very smart woman who knows it's much more difficult to argue with a quietly posed question than a direct statement of denial. 
The lamp stayed in jpeg format online and we didn't put it in our registry, but I learned something. As a matter of fact, I learned lots of something.


---


One of the things I've learned or am learning is not only that it's my tendency to value and operate well when I can take control, but marriage is not about control. 
I'm learning this. 
I have been wrong more times in the last three months than I can remember in the last six years. I have apologized more, interrupted more and failed more times than I can count, which isn't very high.
When I focus on the numbers and frequency and severity of my failures, I'm instantly depressed--kind of like exactly the opposite of an energy drink. 


As I sit back and watch almost every single idea of what I thought marriage would be fall to pieces before my eyes what is slowly picked up and placed back on the table is a picture more beautiful and breathtaking than I ever could have imagined.
Everything I'd built in my mind of who I was, who a godly leader, a good husband, a strong Christian and who I wanted to emulate in my marriage has been beginning to crack. 
The spidery lines shot up, sideways, downwards and diagonally more quickly than I dared to think could happen.


God has a plan for how he wants me to love Jessa. He doesn't want me to become a good husband but the husband for Jessa that I'm supposed to be. Loving her looks different than loving anyone else, ever. She's special, unique, and unlike any other woman on earth--that's a lot of what attracted me to her in the first place. So she needs me to be better than good, more godly than godly, and not just a Christian leader. 
I need to be who God has for me to be for him, and for her. 
It's not about me getting more control of my life, more control of who I am and gaining a tighter grip on my relationship, it's about letting go.


---


The more items I picked out, the crazier they got. I couldn't see the color scheme, I couldn't see the whole picture or what the inside of our home should look like--I saw "this looks sweet. This looks awesome. Oh heck yeah, what about that?" When I let go and watched how my beautiful, sweet and patient fiancée had a vision for home, suddenly everything came into perspective.
Once I recognized that black and pink aren't ocean colors, dark chocolaty brown and a pale, pastel-hued light blue shouldn't be the two towels that hang in the bathroom and a Velociraptor egg doesn't belong on our dining table, we could pick things out together.


God  doesn't stop at the parts of me that are "good" or "oh yeah, that looks awesome. Good job on that James." He encourages me to become this completely renewed, restored, revamped version of me. God's vision for me is so much more incredible than my own, and he's brought me the most gorgeous woman to encourage me in  becoming that James. 
Those parts of me I still grasp for control of and think "this is who I need to be and this is who I want to be like so I'm a better person" are the vivid orange lamps, distractions and areas where I'm still grasping for control and haven't been able to let go and give to him yet.


Yes, it was one of the sweetest lamps I've ever seen and I still love it. "I love lamp."
Jessa and I shared loads of laughs while registering and enjoyed ourselves immensely, and by the end I had picked out a few items that weren't s'more marshmallows or iPads.


Geoffrey Bromiley says, "As God made man in His own image, so He made earthly marriage in the image of His own eternal marriage with His people."


Colossians 2:15-16 "And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom..."

Colossians 3:12-13 “Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive.”

An amazing memory...

This trip was one of the most incredible experiences of my life.
Just thought I'd post it here so people who aren't on Facebook can see it if they'd like.
God is good.




And then there was Disney World...
So. much. fun.

Body breakdown II

For my little brother Michael and sister Grace.

The immune system works on it's ability to distinguish the differences between the foreign organisms trying to attack or enter the body. It first identifies
               "what are characteristic proteins or protein-linked components of this invading substance?"
Proteins matter to the immune system.
Once it identifies this important fact, two kinds of lymphocytes are provoked to respond.
One set of lymphocytes produce antibodies that directly attack those invading substances (this is called antibody-mediated immunity).
The other set of lymphocytes start making antibodies that they will direct to attack the invading substances (this is called cell-mediated immunity).

Where do these lymphocytes come from? Stem cells in the center of bones called "bone marrow." Stem cells in bone marrow are basically the factories that pump out hundreds and thousands and millions of the cells that make up your bodies defenses every day. They're the industrial part of your inside cities, where it's all work and no cool stores.

There are two types of lymphocytes: B-cells and T-cells. They can either be called B- or T- cells or B- or T- lymphocytes but lymphocyte and cell mean the same thing.
When a disease enters the body and one of the cells is attacked and devoured by a phagocyte, the information about what that devoured cell was is displayed on the phagocyte as an antigenic determinant, which is how the B- and T- cells know what to do next. The antigenic determinant provokes the appropriate immune response and says "this is how you should get those bad guys."

Cell-mediated immunity.
Say hello to an impressive, scary little defender cell called a cytotoxic T-lymphocyte.
Hello cytotoxic T-lymphocytes!
These muscular tough guys circulate through the blood vessels, then gather at the infection site. Acting fast, they interact directly with diseases or problem cells such as fungi, protozoa, cancer cells, bacteria-infected and virus infected cells. These little T-cells exert a "lethal hit" on cells and secrete substances into them that lead to cellular destruction.

They also have substances inside them called "lymphokines."
Say "hello lymphokines!"
Lymphokines attract phagocytes to the area and encourage them to perform phagocytosis (envelop and destroy) on fungi, protozoa, diseased and infected cells. Why are lymphokines important?
They help to rapidly relieve infection. They're your Supervisors of your body's defenses, getting the right microorganisms to go to the right places and making people are showing up for work on time.

With all of this activity going on, there are also your boring, lame and buzz-killing lymphocytes called "suppressor T-cells" that regulate and suppress the activity of the immune system so that it's not excessive. They come into the room and say "guys, guys, everyone calm down. The neighbors are complaining that the noise level is too high, so can we get things a little bit under control? Why is he on top of the bookcase? Sir, sir, please come down."

Now it gets interesting.

Antibody-mediated immunity.
When a B-cell sees (or is exposed to) an antigenic determinant (sign telling the immunity system WAKE UP! ALARM! ALARM! on the back of a phagocyte) the B-cell says "hey, okay! Alright! Move move move!" and starts producing plasma cells.
Plasma cells are antibodies (good guys) that are specific for antigens (bad guys). If the bad guys are good at pistol skills, the plasma cells create super talented pistol-shooting bad guys. If the bad guys (antigens) are good with swords, the plasma cells create good guys (antibodies) that are good with swords to beat the bad guys.
Other B-cells take notice of what's going on and think "hm. The bad guys are good with swords, so we need to remember that. Next time they try and come back we'll already be coded and ready to make way more sword-men to conquer them quicker."
That is how a vaccine works. Your body is introduced to the bad guys of chicken pox when you're young so that when you're old you're already stocked with plenty of good guys to handle any bad guy chicken poxes that come around.
Or if you go and get an MMR (measles, mumps and rubella) vaccine, in the needle is only a little bit of each of those diseases. Your body says "hey! Those measles need us to fight them with these, those mumps need us to fight them with these, and those rubella virus cells need us to fight them with those." It's only a little bit of each virus that your body gets used to fighting, so if the virus ever comes back for real to your body, you can fight them off easily because you already have before.
That is what B-cells called "memory cells" do best.

So we're back to plasma cells. Your B-cells read the signs and go "heck yes" and start creating plasma cells. Those plasma cells specialize in antibodies. What do antibodies do? They're the good guys. They're the specific defenses against each and every single disease that comes to your body. They're protein-based and do all the dirty work that isn't done by other cells to make sure the disease-infected cells are completely destroyed. Sometimes antibodies are called immunoglobulins.

This is an immunoglobulin. Never mind all the confusing titles and terms for each section, what creature does it remind you of?
Look at it and try to imagine it's lying flat on the ground. The ground around it is all the white space, what kind of animal is it like?
A lobster or a crab. Where it says "antigen binding-site" up in the yellow area at the top, those could be the pincers, and the blue area could be the body and arms. These immunoglobulins shoot out of plasma and then go attack the antigens (infected cells that could hurt the body) and then attach to them at the end of their "arms" area. This is the place on the cell that knows exactly how to react to the bad cells because it has been told by the phagocyte's alarm system (or antigenic determinant).
When the antibody (immunoglobulin) reacts with the antigen (infected or bad cell) the two surfaces fit together like a jigsaw puzzle. This ability is exquisitely accurate and accounts for the extreme specificity of antibody molecules.
The immunoglobulin cells in your body that protect you are told EXACTLY how to respond in a way that fits perfectly against the bad cells that are invading your body. It wouldn't work for them to just go out and fight; they have to be shown exactly how and what to do with the ends of their "arms", and then it works perfectly.

Psalms 139:1
¹ You have searched me, LORD, 
   and you know me.

⁷ Where can I go from your Spirit?
   Where can I flee from your presence?
⁸ If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
   if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
⁹ If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
   if I settle on the far side of the sea,
¹⁰ even there your hand will guide me,
   your right hand will hold me fast. 

¹³ For you created my inmost being;
   you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
¹⁴ I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
   your works are wonderful,
   I know that full well. 

¹⁵ My frame was not hidden from you
   when I was made in the secret place,
   when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
¹⁶ Your eyes saw my unformed body;
   all the days ordained for me were written in your book
   before one of them came to be. 

Body breakdown.

You are an evil parasite. You think "I really hate this guy, so I want to infect him with my deadly disease (insert disease of choice)" and so you do. You hop on a park bench and wait for that perfect moment.
Today is your lucky day. It's your day for a perfect moment.
He sit down, puts his hand on the back of the bench, then rubs his eye.
*SNAP!* You're in.

Instantly you think small thoughts and are absorbed by the mucous membrane tissue of the eye and soon you find yourself in the nearest open section of tissue getting set to infect it thoroughly and as you begin your devious work--a threat looms.

You have been seen by a macrophage, the Sentinel of the human body tissues. When macrophages don't live in tissues they're called "phagocytes." Your eyes glint in anger as you let out a roar of dismay, infuriated that your plans have been thwarted. Then without warning, the small figure of an antibody attaches itself to you and sounds the alarm.

The immune system of the human host you're invading is immediately activated. All is lost.
In just a matter of moments phagocytes (or macrophages) descend on you and begin their process to entirely eliminate you. The first phagocyte to reach you wastes no time: he attaches you to himself and immediately ingests you into a bubble-like organelle (tiny organism) called a phagosome.

Once you've been entirely soaked up by him, a lysosome joins him and says "here, you need this" then in a move that makes short work of you, shoots you full of enzymes. You are helpless as you are digested by a team of organisms that just joined together to become a phagolysosome in order to destroy you. That lysosome, where did he come from? The endoplasmic reticulum (a part of a cell) created him just for that purpose. To join alongside the phagocyte and help him destroy you, the evil foreign invasion forces of disease that doesn't belong.
Within minutes you are not only destroyed, but you're also no more than an afterthought as your microbial remains are eliminated from the tissue Sentinel in a process called egestion.

Not stopping here, the phagocyte alerts the rest of the body by sending out a warning signal through antigenic determinants, a display that is shown on the phagocyte like a bright flag to alert the entire immune system as if to say "wake up! We're being invaded!"

The next morning the human body has changed from the day before--it feels like he has a cold, his throat is sore, and his right eye burns warmly. That burning sensation in his eye is called inflammation: it activates the immune system, sets the body in motion to repair itself in that area, and encourages any phagocytes in the area to come and destroy any microorganisms present.

Even before that human body goes to the doctor's to find out that he has "pink eye" or conjunctivitis, the body is hard at work destroying any of the bacteria that could left in the area and protecting the eye from any harm.

A macrophage destroying a bacteria.

That, right there.

In a CNN Money news article summarizing her research results on the "World's top business professors under 40" Andrea Carter quotes Justine Lelchuk, a second-year MBA candidate at Harvard business school and co-president of the school's Student Association: 

"A master business school professor," she says, "is someone who is a dynamic facilitator, clear communicator, active listener, passionate expert, provocative motivator, bridge between theory and practice, and just plain human." 

Maybe I never darken the classroom door of another business class, but I want every single one of those personality traits. 

Single-celled Boats

While taking notes studying for my microbiology class, I came across something that struck me as particularly incredible.
Protozoa: belong in a grouping of eukaryotic unicellular heterotrophic protists, such as an amoeba or ciliate. They exist through aqueous environments and soil, occupying various trophic levels.
Huh?


How about this. Protozoa consist of a single cell that spend their lives in a membrane and have no nucleus.
Heterotroph means...well, let's put it this way. 95% of all living organisms are heterotrophic. No more explanation necessary. They love living in watery areas as well as underground...and I am a huge fan of them.


There are four major ways that protozoa get around (called locomotion), and it is one of these that caught my attention and left me in awe of a very, very creative God.

Ciliary locomotion:


Cilia operate with a unilateral beat lying in a single plane.
(They are lying flat and one whole side moves at a time.)


As cilium moves backward it is almost rigid; upon recovery it becomes flexible and the tip appears to be dragged along the body of the organism.
(The little hairs on the sides of the organism row.)


Cilia either completely cover or are in bands or clumps, so they must be closely coordinated with the movements of all other cilia.
(The little hairs are so close together that to move at all they must move all together, otherwise no movement is possible.)


Coordination is achieved through metachronal rhythm in which a wave of simultaneously beating clumps of cilia moves from the anterior to the posterior end of the organism.
(Together in waves of movement identical to that of oars on a boat, the organism is propelled forward.)


In addition to avoiding interference between adjacent cilia, the metachronal wave also produces forward locomotion because there are always groups of cilia beating backward. 
(The metachronal wave doesn't just keep everything in timing so that the oars don't hit each other, it also keeps the organism moving forward.)


Because the plane of the ciliary beat is diagonal to the longitudinal axis of the body, ciliate organisms rotate during locomotion.
(The waves of motion travel against the direction of the beat so that during the effective stroke, the cilia are all spread out, making each individual stroke maximally effective.)
The propelling power is produced not by the individual strokes of each cilia, but by the backward migration of the whole wave, acting on the principle of the Archimedean endless screw. International Review of Cytology

Ephesians 2:10 "For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them."


Isaiah 40:25 ""To whom will you compare me? Who is my equal?" asks the Holy One."

Growing Need

As I follow what most Americans are calling "the events unfolding in the Middle East" or Egypt, its pretty incredible to try and understand the value and severity of what's going on. 
Most of us here in the United States live camel-free, unless you smoke. We buy our groceries in packages, talk politics every few years then vote or don't vote, but we watch our very fluid world change often. We watch films like "V for Vendetta" and fall in love with the hero/protagonist as he says lines like "a government should be afraid of it's people, not people afraid of their government" and we nod, its a true statement.
Winston Churchill said "Many forms of Government have been tried, and will be tried in this world of sin and woe.  No one pretends that democracy is perfect or all-wise.  Indeed, it has been said that democracy is the worst form of Government except all those others that have been tried from time to time." His point being mankind is not satisfied, not good, and there is no perfect or even close to perfect system. In Tunisia several weeks ago a man set himself on fire and died in protest of having to have a permit to sell his groceries on a cart in the street. He felt that the permit prices and need for one in the first place was oppression, so he killed himself and the world took notice. Several days later the same thing had happened a half-dozen times in Tunisia, Algeria Yemen, and had begun to catch on. Then without much warning at all, Egypt awakened. The people poured onto the streets shouting "ALLAHU ACKBAR" in numbers so great that the local police in Cairo, Alexandria and Suez soon gave up and abandoned their positions and left. 
The people who had been protesting the corruption of their government for the last thirty years, the economic recession that had caused food to become so expensive and the lack of honest law-upholding turned on their purpose viciously in the unavoidable rip-tide current of huge mobs. Mankind cannot escape from themselves, much like the worst thing that can happen to a gambler is that he wins or continues to win until he loses everything, then the same is for humanity and mobbing. 
The worst will always happen in a mob unless it is controlled because the value of human life is lost in the sheer numbers, and man is not naturally good, so when he is allowed to be himself free and unstoppable, he is apart from the law and no longer free in it, ruled by himself. The very things Egypt began protesting became themselves. In acts of aggression and independence from the government they looted police stations and stores. 
They broke curfew by the tens of thousands, stopped all production and demanded change. A week later the country is running out of food, an unavoidable point in the natural cycle of not working. The death toll is around two hundred and many, many people are hurting.
"As curfew kicks in, young men carry sticks, swords, machetes, meat cleavers, axes -- anything they can find to arm themselves."
The world needs Jesus.


Luke 22:44 "And being in an agony he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground" 


1 Timothy 2:1-4 "First of all, then, I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thankgivings be made for all men, for kings and all who are in high positions, that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life, godly and respectful in every way. This is good and it is acceptable in the sight of God our Savior who desires all men to be saved and to come to a knowledge of the truth."


Muslim Brotherhood

The Tech Offensive

Lack of Food

Taking Up Household Weapons


---

'Cross Country

2,500 miles in four days. I had four days of driving, just driving. Newly engaged and only having returned from China a week previously, it would be a great chance to have some time with myself and God as I processed the trip and this next step in life. Detouring slightly after I picked up the van in Queens, New York I quickly became distracted by a tall green lady. It was my first time seeing the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island both. Humbly I walked through the echoing halls and stared at pictures and monuments of people both lifetimes and worlds away from how I live. With rarely anything to eat they worked for little pay and brought home nothing most days. No stopping by the grocery store; there wasn't much there and if there was something to buy they didn't have enough money. Taken advantage of, lied to and mistreated daily by the citizens and government of this bright new land they struggled.
I left Ellis Island with my heart heavy and marveling at how much progress we've made since then, how far we've really come.

And then I drove. Drove and drove and drove. The miles crawled underneath the 2005 Toyota Sierra and snowy New Jersey, Pennsylvania and Ohio crawled by. Often I breathed in deep the warm air in the enclosed cell of protection the van I was driving provided. I have so much to be thankful for, my life is truly blessed and I am amazed at where God has brought me. The hours crept by as I refilled the tank at $3.11 per gallon, then again at $3.19. Then I began to become distracted.
The boredom set in.
I took up the absent-minded pastime of reading billboards as they passed. I stopped seeing the scenery, stopped thinking about my life and began listening to the radio. The stations began to change every hour or two as I drove out of their range and had to find another one that fit my taste at the moment. NPR talk radio, modern rock and Christian worship music all found their way into my little enclosed space of warm 72 degree temperature that was carrying me across the country. I noticed that I paid attention to what was outside less and more what was being said or sung.
Then when I drove into Wyoming I began to notice that I had no idea what was around me. I was paying attention only to the snow blowing across the road, my GPS and the billboards as they passed.

Granted, it was important that I focus on driving, but I can drive and still think. I had over the past few days slowly pushed things aside, pushed my heart aside, and was no longer thinking deeply. No longer talking with God. No longer listening. I was only driving.
Joel Belz, Editor in Chief of World magazine said in one of his articles (and I quote him loosely as I can no longer find what he wrote) "the tragedy of Darwinism is not what it has meant to the science of Creationism, that is only a distraction, a miniscule part of what has occurred. What is truly tragic is the naturalism that our culture has adopted. We no longer allow for the supernatural and have decided that only the natural can explain life, only the natural can take place. God is not challenged; instead, and I would argue worse, he is pushed aside and forgotten."
With each passing sign I read I thought "what a lame idea for a casino" or "that makes me hungry" or "a waterslide? I remember the waterpark growing up!" and while none of it at any point was offensive or a challenge to God, slowly I stopped paying attention to the beauty that surrounded me. Slowly I stopped conversing with him when I had thought previously "this is going to be an incredible few days to set aside to spend with him" and allowed myself to drift away quietly. The Coca-Cola signs made me thirsty instead of me looking right past them at the beautiful frozen lakes shining in the white snowy light. The hotels offering warm beds and sweet meal deals made me hungry instead of me seeing the jagged cliffs of incredible danger and awe behind the advertisements.

Proverbs 3:19 attests to what he has done: "The Lord by wisdom founded the earth; by understanding he established the heavens; by his knowledge the deeps broke open, and the clouds drop down the dew."
That is what slowly slipped by my window as I drove.

Isaiah 33:5 "The Lord is exalted, for he dwells on high; he will fill Zion with justice and righteousness, and he will be the stability of your times, abundance of salvation, wisdom, and knowledge; the fear of the Lord is Zion's treasure."

Psalms 29:2 "Ascribe to the Lord the glory due his name; worship the Lord in the splendor of holiness"

Change, please.

I had the privilege of talking with the author Donald Miller earlier this summer after he spoke at a conference I attended in Atlanta, Georgia.

Author of several books including "Blue Like Jazz" which sold over a million copies in the U.S. and appeared on the NY Times bestseller list over 45 times. This particular event was hosted by a group called "Orange" and was dedicated to youth, their education, and the furthering education of their leaders and organizations.

One of the things Don Miller said in his introduction about his life was that growing up fatherless, often angry and without direction, he was first told he should write "almost in passing, by someone that I had silently truly admired." This seemingly random statement wasn't in fact, random. It was carefully thought-out and intentionally expressed to him as a young man because this older man who would later prove to be very, very influential in his life wanted to call out and encourage a very specific gift in Don's life. God used that comment to awaken in Don a passion he never knew existed, and he began writing, writing, writing.

As I listened to Don speak, my mind whirred, soared through valleys and over mountains of ideas, young men I could encourage, people who had done this for me, and my thoughts were the equivalent of absolute haywire.

However, none of the above is the direction that I'm going in now. As the months passed, so did the vibrant colors and bright hues of the statement Mr. Miller had shared with me--but the statement itself has remained rooted firmly in my heart.

On our way back from spending an afternoon lunch of chili, cornbread and Christmas cookies with my lovely girlfriend's grandparents, she and one of two friends crashed out in the passenger and back seat of the huge, comfortable Oldsmobile during the 45 minute drive back to campus. It was just before finals week, and the effects of day upon day of cramming had taken it's toll, they were out. The second of my beautiful girls' other friends and I quietly talked most of the way home. Both of us quite verbal, it was no problem at all filling the miles and the minutes with topic after topic. God, school, our relationships, the future, where we were from, and cultural differences and other current events in our lives. Lightly we flew over every topic, conversationally sharing but not diving too deep into any one subject. When I asked her about what her fiancé was interested in doing after he graduated from school with his Undergrad degree in Cinematography, she said

"you know what I'd really like? It would be amazing to do documentaries that expose social injustices. I would love to do that for the rest of my life. I would write them, he could film them, and we would make a difference."

Her heart was to serve, love, and make a change. But taking this one part of what ended up to be a much more involved conversation aside, something...falls short.

---

What intrinsic value is there in telling a true story about something horrible happening to evoke a response or reaction if there is no change to come from it?

An injustice being exposed holds no value. "Raising awareness" of something very wrong does nothing--to have knowledge of a subject only brings worth to the person receiving the information. It furthers nothing with the topic or situation.

A hundred thousand people can know about child prostitution and the person who exposed it has still not accomplished anything or done a good of any kind.

---

Hawaii no longer sells bananas agriculturally anywhere in the United States other than in it's own State. The fruit now is imported from "mainly developing countries in Latin America and the Caribbean, as well as in Asia and Africa. (http://www.unctad.org/infocomm/anglais/banana/market.htm)"

Let's project a social injustice on this fact for the sole purpose of giving an example.

You are writing an agricultural column on bananas, and while visiting a plantation in Thailand, you uncover the truth that it is a standard practice in Thailand to hire children to pick the bananas for fourteen hours a day and pay them only seven cents an hour, which is 3% of what could be considered a cultural minimum wage for that country.

To return home and write a story on the child labor that features pictures of their scarred, bloody hands, malnutrition and horrible living conditions would bring to those children no value. It is instead allowing their misfortune and their stories to become an article on a website, a brief insignificant blip in history.

In a few months or a year, maybe even that same reporter who wrote the original piece on them will eat a banana that came from that same plantation.

So what changed?

American companies contract with individual wholesalers overseas to purchase and re-sell their merchandise-- whatever it may be -- here in the States. The purchaser is not forced to buy the bananas picked from the children in Thailand's bloodied hands (which is again, a projected injustice. I have never heard of this happening, and if it does is merely coincidental) we choose to. Our corporations that do the buying and selling of imported goods from places where there are not minimum wage laws, child labor laws, worker safety laws, working condition laws, or places where they exist but are not enforced, can impose them and demand that on the contingency of being purchased, those standards be upheld.

Is it financially wise to make a demand of that severity on the provider of your products? Probably not. Is it ethical? There ARE such things as business ethics, occasionally grey or paradoxical though they may be, they do exist (contrary to popular belief and publication).

What about the consumer, blindly swiping left and right, choosing daily and sometimes hourly between credit and debit, avoiding labels and never glancing twice. With the sheer staggering numbers of imported goods we unknowingly purchase thousands of a year, to research and know the origin of each would be futile.

So what then? What is a realistic solution to an epidemic of blindness that affects nearly every person with an income and purchasing power of any kind, personal or business-related.

There, lying static, inert and lifeless beside the problem, is the solution.

Business ethics.

Creating a documentary to show an injustice does nothing for the now publicized but still just as wrong, wrong. The wrong is no less wrong now that more people are "aware" of it.

In fact, juxtaposing that truth, the wrong if anything else just becomes MORE wrong as the public realizes the origin of their product but does nothing and continues to purchase it which in turn, supports and enables that same injustice. Ethics.

A grey, subjective term, it's application to business is lost in the exchange of dollars and cents, stock options, quotas and somewhere in there the separation of church and state plays a big role: faith is left waiting at home while you go to work.

The ethics of making a decision to enable a wrong to continue are never removed when ignored. Companies have the option to illuminate and bring to the table non-business-related issues and make them a part of their business. Suddenly importing shoes from a manufacturer that uses child labor overseas becomes an issue. The pay scale of workers starts to matter. Change can happen.

Jesus never left the workplace, he hasn't abandoned business ethics, and is still holds the only true defining, deciding truth behind what a "moral" is.

We are not called to bring to light every international evil carried out, but if we do feel led to serve someone by telling their story, highlighting a social injustice, or hold someone/something accountable for a wrong being committed, ask yourself this: what change will come of my sharing of this?

What am I willing to do differently because of this? Is Jesus asking me to become involved and a part of making a difference for these people that I see being hurt or taken advantage of? If none of the above apply, then ask yourself...why tell the story?

How is it different from entertainment?

The heart.

This doesn't mean taking it to the extreme "don't tell any stories unless you can or are willing to do something about it." It does mean to evaluate what you say and why you say it. Too often we lose the value in a story because it becomes the ambient filler of space and time, and our senses of wrong are dulled as we are barraged with emotions and no home for them.

Donald Miller's life was changed because someone followed the lead of the Holy Spirit and became involved in his life.

Don's life was changed.

Changed.

Change did not happen to Don when someone told their family at home about a kid at school with no Dad who wrote so well but didn't know it, or when they blogged about how they admired Don's writing even though he had a rough family life.

Tell stories, tell stories, tell stories. But don't cry wolf and allow them to cushion your conscience as "I can't do anything about that" becomes a standard lifestyle response.

What CAN you do something about?

What has God called you to become a part of changing?

Unconsciously Filing Away

On a campus of about twelve-hundred undergrad students, he was very likely one of the most aggressive personalities to attend classes. He was just under six feet tall, weighed easily two hundred and sixty pounds, and constantly flipped his hair sideways across his head while he talked--which was often. "Hi there! I don't think I know you. Are you Ricky's brother?"
I smiled. Yes, this time I was. It's nice being recognized that way.
"I could definitely tell. First time I saw you I was like 'ooh' because there was no way you WEREN'T his brother. You two look so very much alike, you could be twins." The words were a highway of speeding tickets and twelve-car pile-ups. Speaking as rapidly as he could, often his words stuttered, bumped into each other, and swelled, tossed by the furious tempest and whirlwind of a mind that tossed his sentences too and fro. Ryan often made eye contact while he spoke, eager, earnest and sincerely seeking affirmation.

"Yep! We've been brothers for twenty years now, it's time we finally got along I think."

"Oh yes, yes, yes. I'm not surprised, you see, Ricky is one of my very good friends here on campus. 'Ryan' he says, 'you are a very easy person to get along with'. And he means it. He definitely means it. I love Ricky. How is that guy? I haven't seen him in so long, we're both so busy...you know. I have two majors and a minor. I used to have three then I dropped one because of health reasons. How is he? How's Ricky?"

Standing there listening to Ryan, I amusedly noticed that he was as close to a grown-up, real-life Piglet as I've ever seen. Belly all tucked in a too-small shirt, words tumbling every which way, and just as sweet as can be, Ryan reminded me so much of the Pooh cartoon character.

"Ricky's good, he's been really busy getting ready for finals."

"Oh, that's good. That's real real good. You know, I am too. My parents sat me down when I graduated high school and said 'Ryan, we want you to get the very best education possible, so we're sending you to JBU. You know, I never would have thought I'd get to come here, but look at me. Here I am, studying for finals. Yes. Yes, yes, yes. My Mom works in a factory down South of here two, almost three hours, my Dad worked at the same place and that's where they met, of course now that he's retired on disability he's been at home ever since, and here I am about to get my degree in May. It's good James, isn't it? It's real, real good.

Ryan was hungry. From the moment we first met until now, I hadn't realized it but he was hungry--hungry for the same exact things I was, the same thing everyone was, but he was actively, honestly and blatantly looking for it.
Humanity is hungry.
We are hungry for affection, hungry for others to know our stories, hungry to share ourselves, be approved, liked, and loved. Ryan simply asked me for it. I'm sure he could be categorized under a psychological evaluation as having Asperger's, or an autism spectrum disorder of some kind, and it would probably be true. But while we were talking I realized that many, many of the things that Ryan said to me or asked of me in that interaction were things I ask silently of my friends, my family, and most people. Ryan and I were in so many ways identical, and yet because he didn't hide it or even seemingly try to hide many of his needs in his social life, it was astonishing how quickly I attempted to put him in box.

1 Timothy 4:16 "Keep a close watch on how you le and your teaching. Stay true to what is right for your own salvation and the salvation of those who hear you."

In a moment of admonishment and startling realization, when I thought I was "reaching out to" Ryan by spending time with him I was in fact making myself into someone I wasn't. His awkward, fast way of talking was who God had made him to be, but it wasn't so different when he asked for my approval. It was a verbalization of what I have done so. many. times.
I look forward to the next time we get to hang out, and maybe I'll get to learn some more from him.

"Did you know that most police officers who have had to deal with a crisis of some kind with there job have experienced varying levels of PTSD? The a-type personalities that are recruited often to fill the roles of those positions tend to stuff their feelings down inside and just try to 'tough it out' when in fact it's been shown that even just three one-hour counseling sessions would dynamically reduce the divorce and domestic violence rate in the country's police force by over thirty percent in the first year?"
Didn't know that.