Finding our way(bread)

'The lembas had a virtue without which they would long ago have lain down to die. .... It fed the will, and it gave strength to endure, and to master sinew and limb beyond the measure of mortal kind.'

My mind has been racing lately. It feels as if I am living in a snow globe, perpetually driving in rush hour traffic while "Flight of the Bumblebee" plays on repeat from my car radio. It's just one of those times when I am passionately curious about everything and desperate to right all wrongs-It's not a bad feeling, just a bit overwhelming. So please bare with me as I try to link my two prevailing thoughts from today day...

It's clear that the world is hurting right now. I think the world has had a history of hurting, but it's becoming much more apparent to us because America is hurting as well. An article was published today stating that an economic chasm has formed between the different races in America. According to an article off MSNBC, "The ratio of wealth for whites to blacks, for instance, is now roughly 20 to 1...". I realize that all statistics need to be taken with a grain of salt, but this particular fact is still quite shocking. Maybe what's most shocking is the fact that I was shocked by that statistic. I am so completely out of touch with the needs of this country.

So what should I do? Should I donate money to charity? Should I give all my possessions away to Good Will or Salvation Army? Maybe I should give food to the homeless? Maybe what I should do is work on my own feelings of entitlement and superiority. How do I go about removing everyone else's sense of entitlement when I can't even remove my own? The problem seems cyclical-It played over and over in my head like a broken record. So I baked bread.

Yes, tonight I baked bread from scratch for the first time. Here's a secret: Bread seems easy, but it's not. Usually I just pull a slice out of a bag and go. Well guess what, making bread actually takes 4 hours and sometimes your arms get sore from all the kneading. And when it's all said and done, sometimes the bread that was supposed to be light and fluffy is actually more dense and brick-like. But despite it's imperfections I actually loved my bread a little bit. I loved it because it represents hard work and because it has a lot fewer chemicals and because it was a productive use of my time. And then I thought, "It would be really hard to give this bread away..."

What? Why would that thought pop into my head? When I think of going into the store, buying some food, and donating it, I have no such attachment to the food. Why is this bread any different? It's just bread right? Maybe not...If nothing else this specific batch of super-dense, not-really-risen, whole wheat bread was an interesting teaching tool. So here is what I learned today:

1. When we go to the grocery store or a fast food restaurant and buy food to donate or give to the homeless, we really aren't giving much. America pays one of the lowest percentages of income for food out of the developing nations. So we really aren't giving much money. We certainly aren't giving any of our time. And most of the time we really aren't even giving "food". Are those in need not worthy of our time? Of our effort? Why is it that we have designed giving so that it no longer hurts? Giving is supposed to hurt (in the best possible way).

2. Each and every person reading this blog (if anyone reads it) struggles with a sense of entitlement. I guarantee it. I think it's human nature-"I worked hard. I invested smartly. I prepared for the hard times. I should be able to enjoy what is rightly mine". I don't know that there is anything wrong with those statements, but there isn't a whole lot that's right. We are called to love EVERYONE (the unfortunate and the foolish). Love doesn't always look like giving material goods away that you have worked for away, but it does look like sacrifice. I think love trumps justice-and if it doesn't we are all in big trouble.

3. Somehow the Bible means so much more after you make bread. I know that seems ridiculous, but I'm a scientist and we require hands-on experience. When the little boy offered his loaves and fish, when bread was given to the poor-those were sacrifices and gifts. They were donations of not just food, but of hours of labor. There was love for the other in those actions. And maybe, because that bread was no longer yours, you went hungry for the day. A gift like this-one of love, time, and effort-is a much more sustaining gift. It's no wonder Christ chose bread as a symbol for his body. Bread is a labor of love. The sacrifice of his body was not a trivial one! A simple goat on a fire wouldn't do to save and sustain us. His sacrifice, the breaking of His body, is the lembas on our journey of life.

4. It's time that we each make sacrifices that hurt. The president spoke yesterday on the debt crisis. The whole country is fixated on poverty. If all we give each other is a store bought bag of bread, nothing is going to change. It's time we give loaves of home made bread away. If we want to change the lives of those around us for the better we can't just present a facade of charity. Giving, loving, sacrificing-all of these things are going to hurt. And it's time to get used to it.

"I feel like spring after winter, and sun on the leaves; and like trumpets and harps, and all the songs I have ever heard!"
-Sam

I find writing to be easiest during times of turmoil. But writing is probably a little like prayer-over used in times of sorrow and forgotten in times of joy. I wrote while I was happy in New Zealand, why should America be any different?

In the past year I have struggled a lot with discovering my purpose. I want to do what I was made to do. Since graduation, I have experienced a waning of anxiety related to finding my purpose. I'm not sure why I feel less burdened; I haven't done anything differently. What I do know is that life beyond the walls of college, outside the borders of New Zealand, and within the confines of my half-cubicle is better than it has ever been before. And after hours in the car, at my biosafety cabinet, and on the trails/treadmill alone this is what I have discovered:

1. I was made to do things. My purpose is one of action. I was made to work hard and be busy. I was made to accomplish things and to push beyond my comfort zone. As my dad has always said, "the pursuit of leisure is a bad thing". I am purposed to pursue hard work. Rest is only good and healing if we have something to rest from.
2. I was made to move. I have muscles and ligaments and tendons and bones because I was made to be in motion. Exercise is good, but an active life is even better. More walking, more playing with the puppy, more cleaning, more cooking. Less TV, less pre-made food, less laying on the couch, less facebooking.
3. I was made to love. My purpose, as a human, is to love. Not romantically, although that certainly is nice, but filially. I was made for "brotherly love". We were all made to be in loving relationship with other human beings. We were made honor the needs of others above our own. We were made to forgive and be merciful. I can't live this life on my own. If you think putting the needs of others first is too hard, wait until you are alone and then tell me I'm wrong.

It is best to love first what you are fitted to love, I suppose: you must start somewhere and have some roots...