Second, I was going to make a new playlist for Jake, because that’s kind of a nice thing to do for someone, but I never got around to finishing it…uh, see above. So this is one I made for him this past summer, back when we were homeless and had no idea what the future held and he was spending a lot of time driving to and from contract/freelance jobs so he would have something to listen to. So they’re all related to uncertainty, or a difficult time, or questions one might want to ask God when He appears to be shirking His duty while trying desperately to believe that He is good.

You’re supposed to also say why you chose the songs so I have included a brief-ish excerpt or explanation for each. (Don’t judge me! I haven’t had much money for music since like 2002 so most of this is old.)

• “You Did Not Have a Home” by Rich Mullins. Because we did not have a home.
• “Let It Be Me” by Ray LaMontagne. “For every door you open, seems like you get two slammed in your face…Pockets full of nothin’, ain’t got no cash…You feel like you’d give anything for just a little place you can call your own”
• “I’m Not Alright” by Sanctus Real. The title pretty much sums it up. And we discovered that most people are pretty intimidated when you say stuff like that.
• “Next Age” by Stavesacre. “Hope deferred makes the heart sick with desperation/And we’ve had enough for a lifetime.”
• “I Feel So” by Boxcar Racer. “I feel so mad, I feel so angry…so lost, confused”
• “Trouble” by Ray LaMontagne. “Feels like every time I get back on my feet she come around and knock me down again…worry is my only friend”
• “Walk” by By The Tree. Because that song makes me think of Camino (Jake used it on our slideshow (warning! for some reason he included a video of me draining a blister)), and this era in our lives was a spiritual Camino.
• “Why Georgia” by John Mayer. “So what, so I’ve got a smile on/But it’s hiding the quiet superstitions in my head…Am I living it right?”
• “Hard to Get” by Rich Mullins. I think this is perhaps the bravest song ever. I won’t put any lines because the whole song is exactly what I would say, if I was poetic.
• “Aslan” by Kendall Payne. “Lay down your layers, shed off your skin/But without his incision you can’t enter in/He cuts deep, yes he cuts deep…but never leaves a wounded one behind/He won’t say the words you wish that he would/He don’t do the deeds you know that he could/He won’t think the thoughts you think that he should/But he is good, he is good.”
• “Good” by Bleach. “My heart is bare/There’s not much there/But I believe you’ve given me more than I could know/And I know this/You are good”
• “Your Love is Strong” by Jon Foreman. “I look out the window, the birds are composing/Not a note is out of tune or out of place/I walk to the meadow and stare at the flowers/Better dressed than any girl on her wedding day/So why should I worry? why do I freak out?/God knows what I need, You know what I need”
• “Vision of You” by Shane & Shane. Basically begging Jesus to show up.
• “Be Near” by Shane & Shane. Same idea as above…”Your nearness is to us our good.”
• “Hold Me Jesus” by Rich Mullins. “The mountains look so big, and my faith just seems so small.”
• “Yearn” by Shane & Shane. Wanting to want Him when you don’t. (Aside: it appears the Shanes have become the new Rich Mullins(es), no?)
• “Waiting Room” by Shane Barnard. “I will trust when You don’t seem real…Lord, I know if I change my mind/You will change my heart in time/Sovereign Lord, this time’s from You/So I sit in the waiting room of silence”
• “Better Days” by Robbie Seay. Here come better days! (I mean, there were only a few ways it could get worse.)
• “The Best I Can” by The Normals. “This is not what I thought I had been praying for/But this is what I have been given/I will make the best I can.” One of my very favorite lines.
• “Sometimes by Step” by Rich Mullins. If you are a real Christian you pretty much have to put this song on a playlist.
• “You are Good” by Nichole Nordeman (and Erin O’Donnell). “When it’s dark and it’s cold and I can’t feel my soul/You are so good/When the world has gone gray and the rain’s here to stay/You are still good”
• “Lifeboat” by The Elms. “When I can’t swim, You are a lifeboat”
• “Gratitude” by Nichole Nordeman. “Daily bread, give us daily bread/Bless our bodies, keep our children fed…But maybe not, not today/Maybe you’ll provide in other ways/And if that’s the case we’ll give thanks to you/With gratitude” A very difficult thing to pray.
• “Over Now” by Needtobreathe. “This time is just a season…Lift up your head, look out the window/’Cause it’s almost over now/Take back the time your fear has stolen/’Cause it’s almost over now”
• “New Day” by Robbie Seay. “And I know it might seem/That the world is crumbling/But it’s me and you dancing in the kitchen at 2 a.m./And we’re still alive/And it might not be/The prettiest thing that you’ll ever see/But it’s a new day”

So there you have it. Don’t get your hopes up – several of the remaining prompts are completely stupid so I may not finish. And no, that doesn’t bother me.

Also, with my son a full-blown toddler, I am curious to know what Jesus was like at this age. Since he was sinless, did he throw tantrums? If he did, that would mean that my son’s screaming and hitting and crying are merely a developmental phase, something to just ride out…if he didn’t, then I am dealing with sin in my child’s little heart and that requires a much more proactive stance. (It sounds silly but really, theology can strongly affect your parenting. I have some friends who don’t believe in depravity – basically, that everyone is sinful – and instead think that everyone is mostly good. The way they discipline their children is wildly different from how I expect I will discipline mine, because I do believe people are born with a sinful nature.) And if he didn’t throw tantrums, can you imagine Mary’s horror at her other kids’ behavior when they came along? When really, they were just being normal (probably sinful) kids.

Then the event’s vision and purpose was re-directed. Instead of sending the actual shoes, all the donated shoes would be auctioned and the money would go to purchasing shoes locally for the children (this is a great idea, to support the local economy). Except…the idea became really muddled. I visited a women’s small group just before this event and was dismayed to learn that it was a crafting day for them. I am not opposed to crafting in general; I just don’t do it. Because I suck at it. Anyway so some of the ladies’ daughters had a party to “decorate” these shoes for the event, and this small group session was dedicated to “fixing” the “decorated” shoes. Basically you had a bunch of scuzzy flip flops with rhinestones and bows hot-glued on, with an ungodly amount of glittery puff paint. (Let me be clear: any amount of puffy paint is ungodly. Any amount of glitter is ungodly. Glittery puff paint is, by definition, ungodly.) And one of the moms cheerfully reassured us that “All the shoes that aren’t ‘bought’ (because let’s face it, some of these won’t be bought) will be donated to poor people here!” and I was utterly aghast because THESE SHOES WERE AWFUL. Awful, awful, awful. They were ugly and old and dirty…and that was before the rhinestones.

And you know what? Poor people deserve better than that. Because they are PEOPLE. And if you wouldn’t be caught dead in a pair of shoes, you and your mother should be ashamed that you would even consider dumping them off on the less fortunate. Poor women want to be pretty just as much as rich ones, they just choose (hopefully) to feed their kids instead of reveling in the heavenly goodness of cashmere. Just after high school I participated in a tornado relief effort and part of that was sorting donations. And I almost threw up – which is saying something, I have a fairly sturdy digestive system – at some of the things people would donate. Like, disco outfits. IT WAS THE YEAR 2000. Disco had been dead for quite some time. But the worst, the absolute worst, was the used underwear. There I was, 17 or 18, with a few part-time jobs and fully cognizant of how scarce money can be at times…and I was furious that people would take underwear off their unwashed bodies and put them in a bag to donate. For just a few dollars, you can buy a 6-pack of underwear at Wal-Mart. Even I, at 17, could afford that.

It is disgusting to me that anybody – but ESPECIALLY Christians – think that recipients should be grateful for an item for the mere reason that they didn’t have it before. “Well, they should be grateful to get these worn-out shoes with rhinestones hot-glued everywhere, because they don’t have any shoes.” Shoes that incite shame are not much of an improvement over no shoes. Your attitude should be more like, “Well, I shudder to think of putting these on my feet so I can only imagine that everyone else would be just as horrified to wear them. Instead, I’ll give something I would like to receive.” If you are going to give to the poor, or a disaster relief effort, imagine that your best friend’s house just burned down and they have nothing. Now you may go to Wal-Mart, or Target, or wherever, and pick out the underwear and socks you would get for your friend who has none. If you are too good to shop at Wal-Mart or would be embarrassed for your friend to think/know that you shop at Wal-Mart, then go wherever you would go to clothe your friend in need. I don’t think God is very impressed when we say “Oh, I’ll get this to give away because it’s so cheap” (I have overheard some of this as people purchase things to donate for Christmas). But He probably IS happy when we say, “I would have LOVED to get this toy as a kid – heck, I would still love to get it – so I’ll get this one for my Christmas kid instead of the thing that costs $2 and will probably break before you can get all those maddening twisty-ties off it.”

Donating should be giving a gift. If you’re not proud enough of something to wrap it up and give it to someone who knows you, someone with a face and a name, then you have no business donating it to a poor family at Christmas. And if you are a Christian, you are called to give good gifts – because God gives good gifts, and you’re supposed to be trying to be like Him. Please don’t give trash to people and think you’re being generous and participating in “the spirit of the season,” and PLEASE don’t say you’re doing it in honor of Jesus.

Somehow American Christians have bought into this idea that working among the poor is somehow more noble, more spiritual, than working among the middle class, or the wealthy. Maybe it’s the modern Protestant version of penance, I don’t know. Or maybe we just flipped what the church was doing in James, and are now showing preference to the poor – which is still sin. But there’s this idea that poor people need Jesus more than rich ones, and so those who give up everything to go live in an inner city – or, even more impressively, a slum – are doing more for God’s kingdom than my friends who are struggling to make ends meet in the suburbs. Where, I would point out, God has clearly placed them, at least for now. This theme of “go join the poor” is popular at their church too, and every time someone says something to the effect of “If you’re not living in the ghetto you’re not in God’s will” they’re like, “BUT WHAT IF GOD CALLS YOU TO THE SUBURBS?” What will happen there when the salt and light flees for a more hip locale?

I don’t think it’s bad to go to a poverty-stricken area, either for repeated short-term trips or for a lifetime – but if you are doing it because you think that somehow the souls of the poor matter more to Jesus than the souls of the rich, then I would strongly suggest you reconsider because it looks suspiciously like you are trying to earn greater favor with God, to rack up more brownie points by doing something “difficult,” or because you get more points for a poor person’s salvation. And I also think that picking a place for your church to partner with based solely on its level of poverty looks suspiciously like poverty tourism.

While we’re on the subject of things being “difficult,” I submit that a “hellhole,” as this pastor so eloquently put it, may in fact be an easier mission field than one where people do not have such visible, pressing needs. When you are locked in a daily struggle for food – and I mean ANY food, not just getting a store to triple your coupon – someone coming along and telling you that the Almighty God cares about you and can provide for your needs, that sounds really appealing. (And on a side note: trusting God to provide one’s physical needs does not, in fact, constitute salvation. I am merely saying when life is physically difficult, you are acutely aware that you need all the help you can get.) But when someone is perfectly able to meet their own needs, thankyouverymuch, you are faced with the problem of convincing them of their spiritual poverty. When someone literally lives in a garbage dump, I would assume they have a better framework for understanding “This is how you are on the inside, without Jesus” than the guy who has a flatscreen and a car that gives him directions and a phone that can tell him what clothes to wear based on the weather forecast. How do you explain spiritual destitution to someone with a thousand channels in their cable package and some horrifyingly expensive reds in their custom wine rack?

(Note: I am by no means demeaning mission work in impoverished areas. I am trying to illustrate that different types of mission efforts are difficult in different ways. Working among the poor might be physically difficult but spiritually rewarding, while working among the more wealthy might be physically easy but spiritually difficult. Jesus Himself said, after meeting with the rich young man, that it is particularly difficult for the wealthy to enter the kingdom of God. But He also loved the young man, and He also said that it IS possible – even for the wealthy – to enter God’s kingdom.)

Yes, people who live in a hellhole need the gospel. But so do people who live in expensive apartments. And so do people who have 74 acres in the country, and so do members of the royal family, and so do single moms, and so do your next door neighbors…it’s everyone. We will all be equally empty-handed when we stand before God. All people need the gospel, and their income doesn’t change the value of their souls.

I will say that she does deal with political issues in her works, which normally I find very annoying. If I want to be preached at I go to church. (The Temperance Brennan novels by Kathy Reichs, for example, always deal with some “issue” and I always skip the part at the end where she summarizes the issue and does the preachy thing.) Somehow, though, Kingsolver does it subtly and it’s not offensive at all (to me, anyway) and really makes you think about whatever it is the characters are dealing with. Anyway if you find politics and literature a truly abhorrent mixture then I guess stay away.

But I thought it was fantastic and mesmerizing.

I selected Yukon Gold for this pot pie, although I think red ones would work nicely too. I used the same vegetables as the frozen blend I found in France, except this time I kept the onions out and sautéed them like the original recipe. (I actually almost carmelized them, as I was distracted by a crust problem, so the flavor was really nice.) I still didn’t get enough pepper in – it’s really hard to measure from a grinder! – but the overall result was pretty delicious.

But the point is, I have now used real live potatoes and lived to tell about it. I have a few left, though, so I am quite anxious to use them ASAP.

Today, that chubby baby is a skinny little boy who can walk and talk; Jake has a job he loves (I do too, for that matter). Today, I am happy. The sun is shining, it is absolutely gorgeous outside, I am wearing jeans and driving with the windows down, Foo Fighters cranked up, and things seem more or less right. At last.

Once, when I was still living with my parents, I noticed a funny smell in the kitchen. Sort of fishy, and it seemed to come and go. It was very faint – no one else could detect it. (I am not sure how or why that is; I actually have a rather terrible sense of smell, thanks (I suppose) to countless sinus infections). After several days, the smell had become stronger. Other family members started to notice it. My mom, my sister, and I went around the kitchen, sniffing everything but could not identify the culprit. Several more days passed and the smell became quite bad. We went on a purge, taking everything out of cabinets and off shelves. Finally, we found a bag of rotten potatoes, forgotten in the back of a distant corner cabinet. Worst. smell. ever.

And so it is that I neither keep nor use real potatoes in my kitchen. We use the instant kind around here and thus avoid the risk of putrescence.

(pause)

Asher: Mama?
me: Yes, Asher?
Asher: Mama?
me: Yes, Asher?
Asher: Hi!
me: Hi!