Imagine No Malaria – Page 3

Best Buy Lines or the best buy you could ever make… #GivingTuesday

Posted on November 26, 2012Leave a comment

My family has often splurged on Black Friday. I remember vividly one Black Friday back in 2000 when my brothers, boyfriend and mom all got up super early and stood in line in the cold at Best Buy. Brandon and I were both building new computers and there was a large hard drive (probably only 40 GB back then) for sale for an amazing price. My brothers thought they could get one also to save for when they headed off to college. We weren’t at the front of the line, but we were there crazy early. We were huddled with layers of clothing and had a thermos of hot cocoa we kept passing around. It was fun and exciting and the best part was that we actually were spending time together as a family.

The doors opened at 6am and we rushed in to the store. Of course, there were no directions or maps, just a general sense of where things might be in the store. We headed to the computer accessories aisles and scoured the shelves for what we wanted. It was no where to be seen. But we were young and smart and had way too much caffeine for that early in the morning. One of us spotted on the super high top shelf a small little stockpile of these coveted hard drives. We called an associate over and he had to drag out one of those step ladder things. And then one by one, he started handing them down.

We made quite a commotion and so others came by to see what we had found. Soon a crowd had formed, but I was right there at the front. With people pressing in, the sales guy handed me one, and I would quickly pass it behind me to a waiting sibling. I’d grab another and pass them back. One by one, we each got the hard drives we had so coveted.

Ten years ago, a forty gig drive was stupendous. Today, my husband is investing in terabyte drives for his work computer. What we thought was so amazing is not worth anything today. We spent all of that money, probably loaded the drive with songs downloaded from Napster, and have nothing to show for it today.

On Thursday night, we started going through what has become a routine. The newspaper was purchased and the ads were laid out on the dining room table. I saw lots of things I wanted, but I realized nothing that I really needed. There was nothing there I could live without. There was nothing that I needed to spend my money on.

As parents and siblings have begun requesting Christmas lists, I have nothing to put on them.

In my new position with Imagine No Malaria, I have spent a lot of time listening to stories. Stories of people who have experienced malaria personally and stories of families who have sacrificed everything to try to save the life of a loved one.

Last week, Paul Wilcox shared with me this story:

12 years ago I visited El Salvador, a small country nestled away in the heart of Central America. I met there a young woman, named Carmen. She had lost 3 of her 4 children to phosphorescent bombs during El Salvador’s brutal civil war. Her remaining child survived only because Carmen carried him in her arms as she ran. She showed me the burns on her arms from that terrible night. Despite her heart-breaking loss, Carmen was a strong and resilient woman who was quick to smile and loved to dance! Her only son was the delight and joy of her life. Several days later my group returned to Carmen’s village and I was shocked to find Carmen sitting outside her hut, looking completely spent. She was sweating and weak and literally waiting to die! “What’s wrong with you?” I asked. “Paradismo” she answered—the Spanish word for malaria. Carmen was fully expecting to die. She had already “given” her son to her sister to raise. I asked her if she had been to a doctor. At that, she pulled from her pocket a doctor’s prescriptions for quinine. She was preparing to die because she lacked the $20 to fill the prescription. It took exactly 30 seconds to raise that much money from our group to save Carmen’s life, but how many others like Carmen; strong, resilient, and ready to rebuild their families and their communities, are reduced to shadows of themselves, weak and dying by this thief called malaria. When I returned home from this place where $20 can mean the difference between life and death, I realized to my shame that I spend that much on coffee in a week. It underscores for me what incredible power even a small gift can have in a world haunted by malaria.

K8792 — Damiba Dorcas, 3, smiles at her mother, Djelita Noali, as she emerges from beneath the new insecticide-treated mosquito net at her home in Samo, Cote d’Ivoire. A UMNS photo by Mike DuBose.

I have a roof over my head. I have family that loves me. I stuffed by belly with turkey and ham and stuffing and potatoes this week. There is nothing in this world that I need. But there are people out there who are in such need. With such a little bit of money, I can help to provide life and opportunity and health and joy to not only a child, but all of the people whom that child will one day impact as they grow and thrive and learn and share their life with others.

As I looked through those ads, I started to circle things and think about what I wanted to buy… but my heart wasn’t quite in it. Tradition was all that really kept me looking. But you know what, my hard drive has long since been recycled. And I was already spending time with my family. If instead of buying more stuff I don’t need, I give today to make a difference in the life of a family struggling to overcome a battle with malaria – that money is going to have an impact far beyond ten years… it is going to transform communities and countries and an entire continent. That is what I call a best buy.

If you are looking for something to buy me for Christmas, start here: http://nc.iaumc.org/inm . This is our conference donation portal for Imagine No Malaria and you can not only make donations, but also give gifts in honor of people that you love. Spend a little less this year… and give a whole lot more.

Building Structures from the ground up

Posted on October 21, 2012Leave a comment

This weekend, I started to unpack boxes of books in my new home office. My large and spacious home office with built-in bookshelves + church office with a wall of shelves just doesn’t quite fit neatly into my new 9′ by 12′ space. Especially since I only have one small bookshelf left over from college.

But I unpacked the books anyways. I needed to see what I had in order to know where it would go. I had piles of theology books, biblical studies, pastoral care, leadership, spirituality… etc. As I thought about the work of my new position, the leadership and ecclesiology books went on said bookshelf and my biblical studies books found a place on the top shelf in my closet (still accessible, but I won’t need them every day.

After looking at the space and what we needed, Brandon is building me a bookcase to sit low and long under the window. I’ll have room for pictures and communion pieces on the top and room for most of the rest of my books underneath. We are hanging shelves for paper and file storage on another wall. We are building the foundations for what I’m going to need to make the most of my space and resources.

As I think about this work as a field coordinator, right now I’m building a lot of foundations, also. I think I have a fairly good idea of what we need and where we are going. I’ve laid out all of the pieces of the puzzle and can see what its going to entail. Now we just need to build the actual structure to hold it.

My job for this time means I’m on the phone and sending emails… alot. I’m seeking out volunteers. I’m building networks of relationships. I’m getting the right people resources in place so that we have a structure to do some amazing work out of. Gradually, it is coming together… but I think it is going to be a lot more work than simply building some shelves =)

Time flies when you are surrounded by cardboard

Posted on October 15, 20121 Comment

Six weeeks ago: I said yes to my Bishop and began hunting for a place to live.

Five weeks ago: I announced to my congregation that I was accepting the invitation to a new adventure in ministry.

Four weeks ago: we began to pack and say goodbye and let things go one by one.

Three weeks ago: I found myself in Nashville for training for my new position with Imagine No Malaria at UMCom.

Two weeks ago: Frantically handing over ministries and leaving instructions, I find myself down for the count with the worst sinus infection I’ve ever had and I start my new job.

One week ago: I said good-bye to my church family and began to transition to the next with new colleagues and new phone numbers and new emails and new everything.

Today: I’m sitting in our new home, directing conference calls, settling in, and starting a very different life for a short stretch of time.

I tried blogging through some of the chaos near the beginning, but then I didn’t have the time I needed to really process all of the change. I knew I needed to, but I kind of bottled it all up and have bits and pieces of thoughts saved as private posts here and there. As I get the time to look back through them, I’ll see if there is anything “salveageable” in them.

I think for today, however, the best metaphor for what my life has been in the past few weeks is to think about my kitty cats.

My cats Tiki and Turbo are shy. They are extremely loveable and very nice, but they are introverts. They don’t do well around people and would prefer to hide under the bed… at least for a few hours or until people have left.

They have traveled and spent time in other houses before. Mostly my brother-in-laws house, where they spent most of our two week vacation hiding behind a chair where they thought no one could see them.

As soon as we arrived in the new place, we put them in the laundry room where they could have some space, but wouldn’t have to see all of the people moving all of the stuff.

The problem was, they didn’t want to come out when the chaos was over. We found them hiding behind the dryer, huddled together, just hoping that no one would see them.

As my husband and I eventually dragged them out of their little cozy corner (who am I kidding, it wasn’t cozy – it was dark and dusty and a little dank, too), they were tramautized. Hearts pounding, heads bobbing back and forth, not sure of what to do or where to run and hide.

I carefully cradled one cat, Brandon the other, and we showed them the house. We took them through every room and set them lovingly on their familiar pieces of furniture. And the whole time, their heads bobbed and weaved, sniffing and smelling, trying to take it all in, overwhelmed by the differences and yet the familiarity. It was dizzying to watch them… and yet I knew how they felt.

So many things have changed in the last few weeks, and yet so many things have remained the same. It’s like the world is upside down, but it’s the same world. It’s not better… it’s definitely not worse… it’s just disorienting. I’m still craning my neck and peeking around corners and “sniffing” out what all this new life entails. I’m still unsure, and yet starting to get situated, excited, full of anticipation.

I knew the cats would be fine when Turbo hopped into bed with us last night and found “his spot” right between our pillows. And even though Tiki never made it up the stairs to our master suite the night before, he found his own way and pounced on our feet… right on schedule as the sun started to rise. They seem to be enjoying new places to run and hide, new adventures around every corner… and yet they also seem to be a little bit more cuddly and cozy – wanting to be closer than before.

Change makes you think about what is really necessary and what is really important. It brings your life into focus. It makes you want to be cozier with the ones you love and cherish the home you have. It has been a whirlwind of a month, and we are still surrounded by cardboard… but everything is finally starting to settle into place. Tiki just used all of the boxes as an opportunity to leapfrog from one pile to the next and perch a top the highest one so he could survey his new territory. I feel like even in the chaos, I’m on top of the world, enjoying the view, and ready to tackle anything.

Called By Name

Posted on September 28, 2012Leave a comment

If I ever doubted that I was called to this ministry with Imagine No Malaria, all of that was erased as we finished training this afternoon and closed a devotion and scripture and prayer. We started with the calling of Samuel – and the voice of God calling him out by name. We moved to the call of Jacob and a night of wrestling where God names him anew.

As we listened, my heart leaped in my chest. Both of those scriptures have been the ones I have turned to when I explain the call of God in my life. I heard Bishop Carcano tell the story of Samuel’s call when I was a college student and realized for the first time that God had been calling me through the voice of important people in my life. I have always had a push/shove/pull relationship with God and the idea of wrestling and asking questions and coming through on the other side different and more faithful has been a predominant narrative of my faith journey.

To hear each of those stories once again as the capstone of four days of training for a different direction in my life was powerful. It was an affirmation that for some reason I am called to be here and to do this new position.

I have had some fears and hesitations about the gifts needed and the travel required n the position, but I am learning that how we live out this campaign in Iowa is going to be different than in other places. I have tried very hard to practice good boundaries and healthy self-care habits around my schedule and my family and I was worried that this position would demand something that I couldn’t offer. But I’m figuring out that in this position, I will actually learn a better way of delegating, empowering, and supporting those I work with so that we can all do amazing things without killing ourselves in the process.

God has called me by name. Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.

All Will Be Well

Posted on September 25, 2012Leave a comment

: by ClearlyCassidy

Julian of Norwich, in a time of doubt and struggle, wrote: All shall be well, and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well.

This is my last column in the Circuit Rider because on October 1, I will be beginning a new journey as the Coordinator for Imagine No Malaria with the Iowa Annual Conference. It is a long job title but a very short and intense ministry that I am very excited about beginning.

My new position will take me across the state, working with clergy and laity, young and old, small churches and the biggest churches, as we together raise funds to end death and suffering from malaria by 2015. While it might seem like only an outreach project, the truth is, I understand this campaign to be something bigger in the life of our Iowa Annual Conference of the UnitedMethodistChurch. Working together on this effort will help us build bridges between conservative and liberal sides of our church. Focusing outward on mission and partnering with our community to raise funds through health fairs and 5k runs and lemonAID stands will help us build relationships outside the walls and revitalize our churches. That is something that YOU have experienced here in Marengo. As we turned our hearts to both local and global mission, the Holy Spirit moved in and a spark of love and light ignited in this church.

When I came here to Marengo, neither you nor I knew what to expect. There is a song that I played frequently in those days to myself called “All Will Be Well” by the Gabe Dixon Band.

The new day dawns, / and I’m practicing my purpose once again. / it is fresh and it is fruitful if I win but if I lose, / Ooooo I don’t know. / I will be tired but I will turn and I will go, / Only guessing til I get there then I’ll know, / Oh oh oh I will know.

I was fresh out of seminary and you were ready to become a fruitful church… but we didn’t know it was going to work between us. It was a wild guess on our parts… but something amazing for God’s part.

All the children walking home past the factories / could see the light that’s shining in my window as I write this song to you. / All the cars running fast along the interstate / can feel the love that radiates / illuminating what I know is true / All will be well. / Even after all the promises you’ve broken to yourself, / All will be well. / You can ask me how but only time will tell.

I don’t know what God has in store for this church… but I know that God will be with you and all shall be well. I know that God has led you to embrace an amazing mission: to reflect the light of God in Marengo and Iowa County as you step out into the world and pass it on. I know that the Holy Spirit has been moving strongly in your midst and that God will not leave you or forsake you. I know that all will be well. You can ask me how, but only time will tell.

Keep it up and don’t give up / and chase your dreams and you will find / all in time.

You are my first church… and I love you dearly and I will miss you terribly… but all shall be well. Keep your hearts focused on what God has called you to do. Give your lives to living out that vision. God bless you all.

Mission Makes Disciples

Posted on September 19, 2012Leave a comment

I knew that Imagine No Malaria was about saving lives. I knew it was about God’s mission. But the more I sit in training, the more I hear the stories of people impacted by the campaign, the more I understand the training and empowerment of both church folk in the U.S. and the on the ground work in Africa, the more I realize that this work is about discipleship.

I have had a glimpse of the way mission makes disciples at my church in Marengo. As we turned our eyes outward instead of inward and opened the doors of the church and stepped outside, we found that we grew in our faith. As we reached out in love – both to our neighbors and to our brothers and sisters across the globe – we found we were encountering Christ. And as their heart for mission grew, so did the sense of spirit that moved through that church’s midst. And the reason is that they began to understand mission was about more than simply a check, but it was about faith in action.

Throughout this campaign, we are teaching people how to put faith into action. We are going to seek out those with the gifts for generosity and invite them to claim those gifts. But I really think that the heart of this campaign is about empowering individual people to make a difference for Christ. The skills we will teach and the gifts we will nurture will not only help us to be successful with Imagine No Malaria – we are actually building capacity for local church leaders to reach out to their local community in partnerships, developing donor networks, inviting people to give testimonies, increasing the strength of our connection, and capturing the creative spirit of our clergy and laity.

I watched a video segment yesterday where a young man, an inmate with a history of trouble, found his faith in the prison system. When his chaplain told him about Imagine No Malaria, he put aside $5 of the $15 he makes each month in the prison industry – money that was to be used to buy shampoo and soap and basic things… and he gave it to make a difference. He gave it because Jesus invites us to heal the sick. He gave it because it was what he could give.

As United Methodists, we believe that we not only make disciples, but we make disciples who make a difference. As I have been preaching through the book of James this month, I have been reminded over and over again that our faith is nothing if it is not lived through our words AND deeds. We have to reach out… not because it earns us points with Jesus, but because mission is what we were saved to do.

When we are engaged in mission, the initial faith that saved us is deepened. When we are engaged in mission, our life becomes less about “me” and more about God’s vision for the world. When we are engaged in mission, we find that we are in turn blessed by those we serve with (** note: not for or to, but with**).

When we are engaged in mission, we truly are living out our calling to be disciples of Jesus Christ. And while we might fight about the Call to Action and debate about the hot button political topics of the day and look suspiciously at those different from us across the table, Imagine No Malaria is different. The United Methodist Church has the opportunity right now to join with one another across the globe to do this one big thing in the name of God – to transform the world as we live out our faith and our mission. It is unprecedented. It is amazing. And it is entirely possible.

As someone who walked away from General Conference disheartened about “the institution,” I suddenly find myself in the midst of the institution… and yet, this campaign is about people coming together, focused on God, focused on a simple uniting task, focused on the elimination of deaths by malaria. While at times I have felt like I am on a very slowly sinking ship, I believe this project is rekindling hope in my heart that God isn’t done with us yet and that together we can truly revitalize our church and transform the world.

Assumptions

Posted on September 18, 20121 Comment

I remember vividly a leadership event when I was in middle school. Well, I vividly remember two things about it. First – we were at Kirkwood Community College and we got to eat in their awesome cafeteria and drink Clearly Canadian sparkling water. For some reason, that was a big deal 😉 Second, there was a message that stuck with me. It was about assumptions and our leader told us that when you assume, you make an “ass” out of “u” and “me.”

The book of James has an awful lot to say about when we open our mouths and what we choose to let slip out of it. And as I have been listening this week, I have realized that assumptions do just as much damage as a hurtful word.

When we make an assumption, we have spoken without all of the facts. And that means that we have not taken the time to truly listen to another person. We have not spent the time with them and asked questions about them or the situation. We have placed ourselves in a position where we believe we have all the information we need… a position of arrogance and, likewise, judgment that the other person or situation is not worthy of investigation and time.

When we make an assumption, we have allowed our wants and desires and impulses to rule the conversation without taking the time to pray and seek God’s counsel. We react with positive or negative gut reactions, rather than looking beyond ourselves to a larger context and environment. When we make an assumption, we have not done the difficult work of weighing how a person or situation will impact not only a local climate, but also a global climate or the Kingdom of God.

I write all of this, because these past two weeks have been awash in assumptions. I confess that I have made assumptions about how others would react to news of my position that did not always place me in a position to respond pastorally. There have been assumptions made at various levels of the connection about timing, ease of transition, and the rippling impact of change. But others have also made assumptions about what I will or won’t be doing, the process of how the position came to be and how/why I was asked, and what the impact on the church will be.

Assumptions hurt. There has been damage along the way and there are misconceptions to clear up and healing that needs to happen… and it won’t be immediate. The truth is, the answers to some of those questions are still unclear. Other assumptions might have a foothold in reality, but either the assumptions don’t have the whole story or stretch something out of proportion.

Today, I begin my training for my work with Imagine No Malaria. From what I know already, the bulk of my work will be communicating the importance of the mission, training and empowering and developing lay and clergy across the state to embrace the mission and to give generously, but above all, telling the good news that lives are being saved and that we are doing God’s work. I will travel, have a lot of one-on-one meetings, and spend a good chunk of time with databases and reporting. Some of those things might themselves be assumptions. I am trying to let go of those ideas I hold in my mind so that I can be open and learn as much as possible about what my life will look like over the next nine months.

And I want to invite you, when I get back, to ask me lots of questions. Open your mind and let us explore together with God what is in store for all of us.

Cold front

Posted on September 12, 20123 Comments

Today a cold front moved through the state. And as I drove on the leading edge of the front and the wind blew my car around on the road, I realized my life itself was changing weather patterns.

As of today, I am still an elder serving a local congregation. But before I know it, I will be under a different sort of sky.

Already, there has been some push-back from people who aren’t quIte sure why I am doIng thIs job. My answer has not always been the most artIculate, but I’m learning to live into my new role still. Heck, I don’t know what even exists on the other side of October 1!

There has been the grief and turmoil of having to announce my end date to the local church. No one is happy… even as they know this is a good thing for the project and me. Watching their disappointment is almost too much to bear. Hearing my youth talk about how I am just another adult who has abandoned them cuts the deepest. There is a depth of perspective they can’t quite grasp today… I know that no matter when I left their feelings would be the same… but it still pulls at my heart. For a few days now, I have felt like everything is in a downward spiral… the barometer is falling fast… the winds are rising… and I want to run fast into yesterday and take it all back.

But today on the edge of that weather front, I was reminded that wind and turmoil and the grey clouds are necessary. It is the friction of what was and what will be coming into contact in the same time and place. It is the chaos of transition.

As much as I think my new position starts Oct 1 and my current position ends Sept 30, my life is a jumble of both. I am leaving notes and tying up loose ends at the same time that we are house hunting. I am planning worship at the same time I am filling out paperwork to get paid in the new job. I am preparing for my training, even as I am going to bed early so I can get up before dawn for a presurgery prayer.

And today, the first glimpses of that new world started to stir up the awareness that this is really happening. The cooler air blew in and the air feels different. It isn’t good and not bad, just different.

Now I’m waiting for the rain to finally hit… for the storm and the transition to pass by so that I can emerge into a new reality. Because this time on the edge of the storm is dark and tense and difficult.