A little bit about grace, and the poor, and freedom from the law, and other such thoughts

Ok, so it's been a while.

But this thought is one I have to ponder all too often. Both in "real life" and in the world of online article comments and facebook replies, where people will say things like they're having a conversation with another person, rather than with that person and the other hundreds (or thousands or millions, in the case of more public forums) of other people who can see their remarks.

The kind of comments I'm referring to are those that make me just wonder, what Bible are they reading? What God are they referring to?

It is baffling to me at times how people who claim to base their lives on the same revelation I know, have such a profoundly different understanding of it. In ways that just make my heart hurt. Who knows, maybe they feel the same way about me-- maybe they have read their Bible, and think I am completely off my rocker in my own interpretation of it.

The comments I'm referring to are ones like these, below. (I've made them anonymous, not because the people who made them cared about remaining anonymous-- I will say that these are not from people I personally know, but who posted such remarks in places where non-acquaintances could witness them-- but because the point is not about those individuals, but rather that I see/hear remarks very much in line with these, way too often. These are just particular instances, but they are by no means isolated events.)

I will note that I don't know for certain if the commenter above claims to be a Christian. It's tragic that when I encounter that type of hate for the poor-- it really is a very particular breed of hatefulness-- I tend to associate it with people who claim to love God. (I did call this person out on her last sentence, tacked on in an attempt to lighten or excuse her hateful statement.)

This remark came in response to someone's posting of Psalm 40:1-3, which reads: 

¹ I waited patiently for the Lord;
    he turned to me and heard my cry.
² He lifted me out of the slimy pit,
    out of the mud and mire;
he set my feet on a rock
    and gave me a firm place to stand.
³ He put a new song in my mouth,
    a hymn of praise to our God.
Many will see and fear the Lord
    and put their trust in him.

Well, strictly speaking, I think it came after that commenter remarked that sometimes God wants us to pull ourselves out of the pits. While expressing the most understanding and grace I could convey via a facebook comment, I gently pointed out that while popular, the "the Lord helps those who help themselves" notion is not particularly Biblical, and it is in our weakness that his power and grace are fully seen in action. Apparently, this commenter disagreed, as the above remark showed up later in the thread.

Such a notion is baffling to me on several levels (though I wasn't kidding when I said I understood that it is a common notion-- this idea of hard work and self-reliance is integral to our American experience, in particular). On one, as I said before-- a few years ago, my pastor mentioned in a message that "the Lord helps those who help themselves" was nowhere in the Bible, and he would give a million dollars to anyone who found it there. I had just recently begun reading the Bible all the way through, at that point, and so as I continued, I kept that thought in mind (not that I didn't believe him, nor that if I had found it, would I have tried to make him pay up-- my point is that, I would have noticed if it really did say that, or anything remotely like it).

(On another level, there are several factual inaccuracies with this person's view of America. But those you either recognize already, or refuse to recognize, so I won't repeat those facts here.)

But the other thought I had on this was to wonder if this person busily judged the Israelites whenever they read the story of the exile in the desert. Did they think they were lazy because they accepted God's provision-- the manna they referred to-- or is it just in the 21st century that we are not allowed to accept God's providence? Keep in mind, the original post that started all this was not a comment about someone quitting their job and deciding God would just provide, or anything remotely along those lines (though, the early apostles often did just that, when traveling to preach the Gospel message, and relying on people wherever they visited to provide for their needs). This strong statement about how people should't be relying on God, just came out of left field. Because people carry that kind of hate around with them.

A short while later, the same individual posted this on their own facebook wall:

Waiting on God is stupid? Listening for the still small voice to guide us? Recognizing that we cannot do it all on our own-- accepting grace? It's all stupid?

If anything, modern American Christianity (the only kind I live amongst, after all) has too many voices of unexamined action, too much prosperity gospel, not enough scripture and prayer and yes, waiting on God. It was only when I read the Bible itself-- went straight to the source-- that I was able to confirm that my uneasiness with such messages is well-founded.

In short: we are called to love the poor in no uncertain terms. It is among the most-discussed topics in Biblical teaching, and never does it come with a condition ("care for the widows, as long as they're job hunting at least 35 hours per week"). If the poor are not doing what God calls them each to do, that is between them and God. It does not absolve us of our responsibility to care and most of all, to love them. Even if a person chooses not to physically provide for the poor in a particular way-- I admit, having worked with the homeless community for a good number of years, situations like panhandlers provide opportunity for deep thought (Biblically speaking, is it ok to give of my resources instead to organizations who will help many with my contributions-- or should I be stopping on the street to give them the shirt off my back and all the money in my pocket?)-- it must be out of seeking to do the best by them (not out of judgement of their circumstances), and it is still never ok to disdain them as something less than children of God.

And... emotionalism with no logic?

The Gospel is a radical, revolutionary story. Jesus turned the old logical way of doing things on its head, and we are free from it. Free from having to earn our own salvation, free from being overwhelmed by the inevitability of our own shortcomings. So why, oh why, are so many of us, so much of the time, still trying to do it all ourselves? (See Galatians for much on this.) In short: there is nothing logical about the Gospel. If it was all logical, it would not require faith, and it would not provide grace.

It makes me sad when I see people not fully getting it. Which I don't mean in any sort of condescending way. I just mean that there is so much more to this story, and they seem to be missing the point. And it is a glorious, joy-filled point. I want them to know it. But I don't know how to get them to realize it. I think those who call themselves Christians already are often the most difficulty to convince of the overabundant love and grace of God.

(Sorry, this was a bit of a bummer of a post. I'll find a cute animal picture or something, for next time.)

One Word: 2013

Ok, so this isn't going to be a long post. I was just so delighted with how this turned out, that I had to share.

If you don't know about this "one word" concept, check out more about the idea, here:

I was introduced to this concept at a women's ministry brunch at church last January. The idea is to pick one word that you hope to shape your coming year, rather than making a long list of specific resolutions (that most people admittedly fail to keep by, sometime around, oh say, January 15th). We each picked a word and painted a little canvas with it to remember in the coming year.

Anyway, the brunches are no longer happening, but I decided to paint my own representation of my word for 2013. (And it sort of couldn't have turned out any more like how I envisioned it. Love it when that happens!)

(For inspiration for the text around it, see Joshua 1:9 and Isaiah 43:1)

"30 Before 30" progress update: #29 (Take 2)

Today, I went back to Children's Hospital to attempt to donate blood again. I never did get sick after the last time, and had waited even longer than the 2 weeks I had to, all feeling fit 'n' fine. So as my field trip for today got cancelled and so I had some time (it also being my fall break from classes), last night I made an appointment to try and donate again.

Imagine my delight when, after filling out the same form, it was Mattie again who came to take my vitals! She was surprised to learn I'd stayed healthy after my previous temperature. She quickly confirmed that none of my information had changed in the past few weeks, and I hadn't taken any international jaunts in the interim, so we could proceed to my various vital stuff.

Imagine my exasperation when, after she took my temperature, it once again read too high. Apparently, I am super hot. All the time. (Now, let me interject: 98.6 degrees F is an average. Not everyone runs at that temperature normally, even when completely healthy, and your temperature, like your weight, can vary a bit during the course of your day/life. But anyway, the "normal" temp translates to 37 degrees C, as any good science student knows. The highest temperature someone can have and still be allowed to donate is 37.5 C... so at my first reading of 37.6, I was about to get rejected again for having what amounts to... {drumroll please}... a 99.68. A mere one-degree temperature. Psh.) Fortunately, after taking my blood pressure (excellent as always) and my finger prick (I have good iron levels, since I know you were curious-- oh snap, despite being a vegetarian of 13+ years!), on the next reading my temperature came to 37.5 C. I know, because she showed me.

Next up, she led me out to where another nice lady by the name of Tracye was finishing up with another donor. I got all settled into my chair, Mattie got me a bottle of water, and Tracye did all her set-up gig, including doing something strange to my arm involving a drinking straw (I didn't ask). She got me hooked up and started taking blood (I didn't watch. I'd decided that was a good plan, before even going in).

I made it maybe a minute.

Getting all light-headed, Tracye and Mattie leaned my chair back, unhooked me, and put cold towels on my head and throat. Mattie was also trying to get me to cough hard, but I don't think I satisfied her, I was so busy trying to focus on not being lightheaded, and also on trying to contemplate how coughing hard would help a lightheaded person (I wasn't having a heart attack, after all). I was quite shortly feeling just fine.

"If that was your first time, I wouldn't try again," Mattie told me.
"No?" I inquired.
"Your body didn't like that blood coming out of it."
"It happened too quickly," Tracye agreed. "We didn't get that much red cells out of you, but your body reacted to it. It's not for everyone," she reassured me.

So apparently, my body freaks out and goes on the defensive against blood-letting. I don't suppose I can blame it for this. It actually seems to be a reasonably helpful defensive mechanism, evolutionarily speaking. People are not actually supposed to lose blood, under most circumstances.

Actually, I take that back. A really excellent adaptation against losing blood would have been if I freaked out and bit Tracye or something, before she started the blood draw. Once you're actually losing blood, it would be much more helpful to keep your wits about you, so the wild animal or whatever doesn't finish you off. And I don't actually have any issues with just naturally losing my own blood-- I mean, it's not something I do for fun on the weekends, but I remain quite calm and non-light-headed if ever I injure myself and start bleeding. I still think it's super cool how my fingerprint never grew back after I plum sliced a chunk off of it while in India two-plus years ago. And self-injury seems like a much less problematic situation to get light-headed in. You're not necessarily in as immediate danger of being killed or eaten. Hmm...

Got the snazzy green gauze to prove it.

Well anyway, evolutionary adaptations (or not) aside, my body freaks out. Tracye advised me to keep the wrap on my arm for at least an hour so I don't "spring a leak" (her words), and they asked me to hang out in seating area for a few minutes so they knew I was going to be ok, even though I was feeling just fine sitting up at that point.

I told them that I would just tell everyone else to donate. So here's my pitch: go give your blood! It's for the children. (Seriously, if you live in the Denver area, I highly recommend the blood donation center at Children's. They are super laid-back, friendly, and competent.) If you are somewhere else... well, it's still for the children, or the adults, or whatever. If I can try (this actually makes 3x now, though only 2x since I started this goal), so can you. At least give it a shot.

Children's Hospital. They-- or someplace
 else-- would be happy to have your blood.

So I'm calling this goal "crose enough!" (bonus points if you get that reference). I'm not saying I won't ever, sometime later in this year of my life, attempt one last time (you know, a three-strikes type of a thing). But I think I'll let Mattie miss me a little bit, first. And if I don't manage to donate, well, at least I sure tried. And if you go donate instead, then at least the end result will have been achieved!

Part of why I ♥ bacteria

This random tidbit has no real input from me, just wanted to share something I found super cool. If you're mystified by my recent love affair with all things microbial (and more specifically, all things bacterial-- I mean sure, viruses are cool and all, but they're a little freaky. I'm still not entirely sure if they're alive. And I still really don't quite get exactly what archaeans are). But anyway... I came across this TEDTalk because at some point recently I was having a conversation with someone (a female. Maybe a co-worker? But also, possibly a classmate or another friend. See, I'm at a loss here) and we were having a conversation about something and they were like "Do you know TEDTalks? There's one about ___[thing we were discussing]___, just search for ___[key phrase about the video]___ and you'll find it. You'd like it." Except, I'm not just being cryptic-- I have no recollection of what topic we were discussing, that there is a TEDTalk about that I would supposedly be interested in. So now I'm a little sad, but in trying to jog my memory I have been perusing all sorts of other delights on the TED site, and came across this one. (By the way, how are there only two TEDTalks with the "bacteria" tag? Shameful.)

Anyhow, it's about quorum sensing... sort of. I mean, she dumbs it down-- I'm all for simplifying things, but bacteria do not actually "vote" or "count." As long as you can keep in mind that bacteria are not actually sitting around plotting their next move (seeing as, you know, they don't have brains, being single-celled and all), this should not mislead you too far. :) Also, has some really fascinating stuff about how V. fischerii (the bioluminescent bacteria she talks about) are commensal with these squid they live in, and also about using quorum sensing to target antibiotic-resistant bacteria. (Those details, I hadn't actually learned in microbiology.) See? You're pumped already, aren't you?!?

:) Enjoy.

"30 before 30" progress update: #19

Tonight... I tried brussels sprouts... for the first time in my life!

I know, I know. They're one of the stereotypical things every kid is supposed to hate. But I never even got the chance to love or hate them, having never sampled such a food before.

I'll let most of this experience speak for itself as, not having many experiences as an adult to try an entirely new type of food for the very first time, and thus having not much idea of what to expect nor what my reaction would be, I decided to videotape the actual first sampling experience (well, not entirely true. I'd nibbled a fallen leaf or two while steaming them. But it was not a good representation of a whole "sprout").

Also, that brings up a good question, which I'd never pondered before-- what are brussels sprouts, the sprouts of? I mean is there a giant grown-up food product out there somewhere, just called a "brussels"?

Anyhow, without further delay: I try brussels sprouts.

Eyeing the mysterious veggable.

Intrigued, I am.

Sprouts a-cookin'.

And now, what you've all been waiting for (or I have, anyway, as this part was really just for my own entertainment, and it makes me laugh):

> > > > CLICK HERE TO GO TO THE VIDEO! :) < < < < 

(blogger was having some issues uploading it to this post.)

"30 before 30" progress update: #25

Since today's attempt at blood donation will have to be re-attempted a little later, I figured today was a good day to get going on another of the items I'd been planning: #25, leave nice notes for people.

Now, I'm marked this one as "complete" (you'll see on the original list that I'm now going to be noting the ones I've done, so you-- and I, as it is now my browser homepage!-- can keep track of which are yet to be tackled)... but this is really one that could keep going forever. I didn't really set a limit, like "leave 10 nice notes in random places," though last week I did make up a dozen or so, and have been meaning to start leaving them around.

Today I was heading to campus for the biology department "advising blitz" (translated: the department office was closed when I arrived, and when it reopened 20 minutes later, I was 4th in line to speak with the department chair, who was the only faculty member around for advising at the moment. Though another professor was also recruited to assist one student). In other words, I knew I'd have some time to seek out places to stick some of my little notes, and I turned out to have plenty.

I haven't put out all dozen yet... because I want to keep an eye out for good places. I could have stuck all the notes in stalls in women's restrooms on campus. It'd be easy spots to hit. But I want to be a little more diverse/creative with my places to leave them, than that.

Inside the door of a bathroom stall on campus. This is one of my favorites of the notes. (And for the record, yes, I did whip out a pen and add the missing "l" right after taking this picture. :)

On a bathroom mirror on campus. I thought about how to word this one, not wanting it to come off unintentionally judge-y... hence in the end, I just threw in a smiley face.

Inside the door of my apartment building elevator. (For the record, standing in an elevator that is not moving is a weird sensation. Sort of like being on land again after bobbing on waves at the beach all day. :)

This was really fun. From creating the little notes, to sneaking around identifying places/times where no one would notice me putting them up, to imagining who might encounter them (and hopefully bring a smile to their face). Maybe I'll just do this periodically. I know I've encountered random signs or writings places that made me smile. I hope the people who put them up had just as much fun doing it.

If you have any great ideas for where to continue sticking my happy little notes, feel free to share them!

"30 before 30" progress update: #29 (Take 1)

Today's item: #29 on the "30 before 30" list: Donate blood!

So, I realize that when I had that terrible experience at the Bonfils at St. Joseph's several months back, I swore off attempting to donating blood. Seriously, those people were just beyond rude. They made me feel like they were doing me a favor by even being there-- you know, instead of me attempting to give over body parts to people who need them. Anywho...

I'm still sworn off going back to that center-- or maybe any Bonfils blood donation center. They're on my bad list, for sures. But when Googling blood donating in Colorado, the second link to come up was the blood donation center at Children's. Now, that I can get behind.

So I scheduled my appointment via their website and e-mail, made sure to eat breakfast this morning, and drank plenty of fluids beforehand, as prescribed (ok, this is sort of a lie. I drank two glasses of water right before I left, as I'd forgotten to get around to it earlier). And then headed out to Aurora. Finally after navigating both the parking structure and the inner corridors of the hospital, I arrived at the blood donor center, where I was shown into a cute little cubicle with sliding glass doors on either side, where I filled out my form and then opened the door on the far side to indicate I was finished.

A phlebotomist in maybe her 40s or 50s, wearing a fuzzy headband with two sparkly bats on springs sticking out from the top, introduced herself as Maddy (I have no idea if that's how you spell her name. But whatever, people never get mine right either). At first I thought she seemed sort of non-talkative, very straightforward, but I was glad she was older and maybe thus more experienced at-- seriously? you know what I'm going to say here-- the finger prick. But while she was inputting my information and clarifying answers, she asked if I'd donated at Children's before, and I told her I'd actually not donating before, anywhere. "Well, we'll make sure this is a good experience for you today," she assured me. (Contrast to the Bonfils people who seemed to wish to ensure the opposite.)

Anyway, about that finger prick... the part that makes oh-such-a-difference. People who are bad at these make you think you are going to die. People who are good at them, you hardly notice (ok, that's a lie too, I mean it still hurts, but nothing like the other end of the spectrum). Maddy? Maddy was a pro. I told her that she was much better at it than a lot of people. She told me the trick, which is that they need to stay away from right in the middle of your finger, which is where most of the nerve endings are. My confidence in this woman who I was hoping to let suck my blood out on this Halloween was growing by the minute.

Of course, there was already one potential hitch. On the first temperature read she'd taken in my ear, before doing the finger prick, it'd read at 38 degrees C. She'd seemed surprised, and so had I, as I almost never get a fever (or so I'd thought... more on that later). And of course, because I was feeling just fine. She'd said the highest they could take was 37.5 C, and so she re-took it after taking my blood pressure (excellent as always) and doing the finger prick... and it was now 38.1 C. I couldn't do the math on this in my head, but I know that 37 is normal body temp (come on, I am a microbiology student, after all), and 40 is hot (which I first discovered while standing in a farmer's field in rural South Africa, on a 40 degree C day, long ago).

Alas, Maddy told me they're only allowed to take the temperature twice. She checked how long a high temperature defers a person for, and informed me that it'll be in the computer as deferred for 2 weeks, but if I don't come down with something by Monday or Tuesday, I can return sooner than that. I thanked her, genuinely-- even if I didn't get to donate blood today, I will mostly definitely be back (I wonder if I can request a phlebotomist...?)

At least I got a Sesame Street band-aid out of it. :)

As I was leaving through the bright, cheery halls and calming spaces (granted, this building is fairly new, so it got to be recently cheer-ified), I passed a couple pushing a little boy in a wheelchair between them, talking about how mom and dad were going to donate blood. Presumably, for their son. I passed staff members in Halloween costumes or face paint, and the delightful murals that are spaced along the outside wall of the parking garage. If I knew a sick kid, I'd want them to get to go to a place like Children's. And if I am going to give away my body parts, it's going to be there (stay tuned... I'll of course update whenever "Take 2" occurs!)

~   ~   ~   ~   ~   ~

Two side notes to this story: First, while doing a workshop with eight-graders at work yesterday, and trying to give them a feel for the temperatures they were measuring in celsius, I asked if they knew how to convert from C to F. Their teacher injected the formula of "double it... and then add 32." My co-worker apparently also believed this was the correct way to make that conversion. Let us review: my actual temperature today, as recorded by Maddy, was 38.1 C. Which is you do the correct conversion, is 100.6 F. If you do the conversion the silly way, it comes to 108.2 F.

In other words, doing the correct conversion is the difference between discovering my body fighting off some low-level infection that I wasn't aware of, and fearing that my brain is cooking in my head. Who said accuracy doesn't matter? :)

Second side note: when I got home, I took my temperature on my digital oral thermometer (I had a different one I liked better-- well, I think I still do somewhere)-- but it died. The reading? 97.2. So maybe all those times I felt sick but "didn't have a temperature," I was really cooking. I think this thermometer is about finished with its usefulness in this household!