a happy place

At dinner tonight, my husband told me about the Nazi's in Greece and their brutality against immigrants there. I have asked him to tell me about what is happening in the world because I cannot stand to look at most of the news websites and try to sort through the trash. I also tend to focus on my local peoples--my kids, their schools, the people I serve around my church and neighborhood. A triangular mile of ministry. I need someone to help keep me global too without having to read newsok.com or cnn.com everyday. I tried the local newspaper online the other day and got to read about how a man accidentally shot his son and some other vileness that seems to always be the headline (and led me to cancel our subscription a few years ago). That was bad enough. But this news, well, I almost threw up. Really.

So to counter that here is some happy:

Cupcakes I made for a friend's birthday to share with everyone at work--but there weren't many everyones that day so I got to share more with my family! They were VERY happy.

 a postcard in the mail from Serbia from my sweet friend Ana
a brighter whiter kitchen.
This was the before:

an apartment ready for a homeless family to move in to

I am slowly reading Resident Aliens by Stanley Hauerwas. In the chapter I just finished, he was questioned about his nonviolent stance, berated that it was not Christian to stand by when terrorists strike. He replied that striking back in violence, sending in troops, was not the way to handle it. Sending in more missionaries would be. The expectation is "fight or flight." Either or. I tend to do both--both recoil from the ugliness and fight back. I can only fight back where I am though, so I try to funnel that disgust, horror, and deep sadness. I keep looking for more mentors to help kids whose lives are already on edge. I keep working on this apartment so that families have a bit of a break from the streets, and a chance to catch their breath. I drag broken down bikes from a storage shed into the back room in the church so they can be repaired and given to someone who needs to get to work. And I keep working on quilts, well, I think because the work brings me peace. A chance to think and pray and create. As Hauerwas pointed out, there are different ways to "fight" these battles. This is mine.