Prayer

And now we come to the end... It's been quite the semester. I have learned quite a lot about our society, and have formed relationships with some of its newest members. I am now about to step out of the bubble of my private Christian liberal arts school, and into the world of the rich and the poor, the homeless and the mansion-dwellers, the hungry and the over-fed, the successful, the hopeful, the well-established... and the failures, the hopeless, and the immigrants. I will graduate from a hugely expensive university with little but a tiny scrap of paper to show for it (which society tells me that I need), and the learning which that paper represents (which is of much more value. Priceless, in fact).
America, to me, means consumerism, a house in the suburbs, and a life in the rat race. It also means exploitation of the 3rd world, atrocities carried out in the name of democracy, and a military force larger than that of the rest of the world combined. Sorry for the judgment and cynicism. I realize that other countries would probably be no better if they had as much power as we... All of that to say; I think the best way to end this series of blogs is with a prayer.

May God lead us away from arrogance and hypocrisy and towards humility. May God give us the strength to give up our greed and spread the wealth to those who truly need it. May America give up the idolatry of Nationalism and instead seek the God of Truth who shows up in the faces of our brothers and sisters all over the world. May we move away from individualism and toward community, building relationships of love with those we used to ignore or despise. May we pull away from our television sets long enough to recognize and respond to the ill-effects of the non-committal sex and mindless violence with which our culture is unhealthily saturated. May we be a people who seek justice for the poor and helpless. May we learn to love laughter and peace. May we lead the way in laying down our weapons (or turning them into farm equipment). May my skepticism be proven wrong.
Amen.

Reaching out

My life is an open book. I am willing to share my story, my walk through life. I dream about tomorrow, I hope for a better day.

Life is never quite what we plan. We make choices and take sides in hopes of finding the right path. Some variables are far out of our control. Accidents require surgery, medication to help with healing and recovery. All of my scars, the surgeries, the pain, nothing compares to the headaches and the lingering affects of numerous concussions.

Some days I can wake up ready to go, others I wake up in a fog. Groggy from what feels like too much beer from the night before. But this doesn't get better through the day, I can't sleep it off, that only makes it worse. My vitamin D levels are extremely low which also contributes to my lack of energy.

My body is aged beyond my years from playing hard growing up. In the last few years I've made attempts to fix some of the damage. Two shoulder surgeries, two hand surgeries and injections to relieve bulging discs in my neck. If I were in better shape, the recovery would likely be quicker. But my left shoulder is still loose, my right rotator cuff has a small tear, and the pain in my neck and back is often overwhelming.

I struggle with my weight, it bothers me. A part of me hides behind it, maybe it's a wall of defense. If I choose to run, the weight literally flies off, I've done it and it feels great. I have more energy, my confidence grows as I check the scale every morning. But I find myself wishing I had the energy and the drive to get up and run.

I had stomach surgery in 2001 to repair a Hiatal Hernia. My heartburn was so bad, golfing was uncomfortable. I couldn't go anywhere without my purple pills. Two weeks after that, I couldn't see. Sitting at the eye doctor for almost 3 hours, he finally checked my eye pressures. My left eye was at 52! No wonder it was blood red and half closed. I've been on various eye drops since and have had Glaucoma in both eyes for several years.

I could choose to have more surgery, which of course means more medication. For the better part of 3 years I have been on some sort of pain pill. I take enough as it is with my headaches. But I have decided to wake up. Even so, it’s a slow process. Addiction is difficult to overcome, change is a difficult challenge. I’m on an honor system with myself. Life is here and now, who knows what tomorrow holds.

I’ve never asked for a hand out, but a hand up is greatly appreciated. God’s hands are big, strong and gentle. My faith is undying, His love is never ending.

What Does It Mean to be an American Today?*

by: Alexandra

You can do whatever you like. American dream. If you like making doughnuts, you can open a doughnut shop and live happily ever after. Impractical? Extremely. But the American mentality will tell you that anything is attainable, and all you need is the willingness to work hard. I do not want to be the one to crush this dream, but in reality, it is far-fetched. But maybe that is what America is; a country of open doors, a million opportunities... Maybe that is why all of the other countries tend to think America is so bratty. We have so much opportunity it's ridiculous. Although we might feel lost and hopeless at times, we never REALLY feel the impending fear that so many who live in poverty do. A sense of security makes people lazy.

I recently decided to count all my blessing, as a way of thanking God and keeping myself from being selfish. I have since realized that I am disgustingly rich. My roommate moved out, so now I can use her closet, and I have 3 closets full of clothes. I have two beds in my dorm room and two beds in my bedroom at home. I have 4 beds that I can sleep in anytime I feel like it. I have two places to live; a dorm and a house. I have the opportunity to use makeup to make myself look "extra" good, whereas many people in other countries do not even have enough clothes. The Bible says God is able to do exceedingly and abundantly more than we could ask or think, and I have that, much thanks to America and to God. And what did I do all of high-school? I whined that people didn't treat me the way I wanted, whined that I couldn't buy everything I wanted, whined that I wasn't pretty enough, and whined that my cellphone didn't hook up to the internet fast enough. The fact that I even spent time thinking about those things makes me a whole lot richer than a very significant percent of the world.

So what does it mean to be American? Or at least, an average American teenager?
To have much... and expect more.