Well, this time on Wednesday evening, I'll be most likely somewhere on the farm...probably unpacking boxes or trying to keep our dogs away from the chickens. Either way, life at World Hunger Relief will have begun.

My internet access will still be available so I hope to be able to post with some regularity, though I'm unsure what exactly that entails at this moment.

That said, keep Faith and me in your prayers. We're a bit overwhelmed and nervous at this point as school, work, packing, unpacking, moving, and adjusting to a whole new way of life begins to hit all at once. Pray that Faith finds strength to balance school, work, and farm life. And pray that I'm as loving as can be for her during this time. I'll be full-time at the farm so when she gets home in the evenings, we'll be most likely at different levels of energy and patience.

Bring on the roosters...

Well, today was my last day at Mission Waco. (Officially my last day is Wednesday but I'm using my last two vacation days this week.) Had my exit interview (which wasn't as official and impressive as it sounds--seeing that my boss is my best friend of 9 years), turned in my keys, and acted surprised at the ritualistic g'bye lunch.

Now that I've left Mission Waco, I feel like a cross between an actual grown-up and a bum. For nearly my entire time in Texas, just over 5 years now, I've worked at Mission Waco. It's served as my security blanket. "Security blanket?", you ask? See, my intentions for moving to Hades...I mean, Texas was to go to seminary. Well, a year's credit of seminary and a 3 year youth ministry gig later and I'm still without a master's degree. During this time as a seminary drop-out, Mission Waco always seemed to be my reason as to why I stayed put. Now, I've crept under that blanket and away from that security and am answering a call, a desire, to check out that horizon. On the other hand, I'm leaving a comfortable, well-paying job to live with goats and chickens in a barn. So while I'm stepping into the great unknown, there's a sense that I'm also taking some time to play and shed some responsibility.

Maybe this a bit of how David felt once he left the steady employment at home with dad, Jesse, to go and try things out doing odd-jobs in the castle for King Solomon. So hey, if things turn out like they did for David, I won't complain too much.

Of course, I'd have to endure assassination attempts from my boss and my own son.

Today while clearing out my old papers, letters, articles and other random bits of paper, I came across a year-old article from Espn.com entitled "Sports, God, & Religion", by Robert Lipsyte. No real deep insight here--about as much as you could expect a sports columnist waxing theology. However, there were a couple interesting quotes. One is by Jerry Falwell...the ultra-conservative president of Liberty University who often speaks out against various hot topics in America such as Islam, homosexuality, abortion, etc. Anyways, before I start to lash out my opinion of the man (and believe you me, I've got a colorful one since I grew up practically in his backyard), let me provide the quote for ya'.

On the Christian's place in the world of athletics he says:
"If kicking butts is part of it, that's part of it. Jesus was no sissy. If he played football, you'd be slow getting up after he tackled you."

I must admit, I'm humored by Falwell's exegesis of the nature of Christ. All chuckling aside though, the author of the aforementioned article, Robert Lipsyte, does make a good point in expounding 'ole Jerry's comment--

Falwell's version of muscular Christianity is part of the traditional American pep talk from a God who can be celebrated with material success, whether it's selling cars or scoring touchdowns. If you say you believe and then you win, God must have been on your side. If you lose, maybe your faith wasn't strong enough. Try harder.

It does seem that we, as Americans, try to squeeze God into various avenues of our self-centeredness. Remember the "What Would Jesus Drive?" campagin a couple years ago? It was driven (no pun intended) to make car buyers decide about which SUV Christ would have driven.

Perhaps these deep theological questions concerning how hard Jesus would hit if he played football, what his batting average would be if he played baseball, or which type of luxury car he would drive assuming he had a driver's license are simply the shadow of a larger problem. The fact that we've asked these questions isn't the primary problem. It seems like the actual problem is that these problems even need to be asked. For if we spent enough time truly digging into scripture and seeking to understand the holiness of Christ, we'd have no need...or even desire to discuss and debate such foolishness.

I dunno, call me a party-pooper but when we have tens-of-thousands of children dying each day from hunger-related causes, it seems that we're completely off on our understanding of Christ. So to try to dress Him in our clothes not only shames Him, it shames the millions He commands us to love.

Read the following song, I Am Nothing, by Ginny Owens below. Then read it again.

I Am Nothing

I could travel over oceans, cross the deserts, and climb the mountains
Just to share your story, bring you glory, and win souls for you.
I could sing like an angel, songs so humble and so thankful
Full of drama and emotion, so the world would know your truth.
I could give away my money and my clothes and my food
To restore those people who are poor, lost, and down-and-out.
Oh, I could succeed at all these things,
Find favor with peasants and kings,
But if I do not love, I am nothing.

I could live a flawless life,
Never cheat or steal or lie,
And always speak so kindly, smile so warmly, and go about doing good.
I could dedicate myself to do what everyone else wants me to-
Listen to them, compliment them, say the things I should.

I could show up every Sunday, lead the choir and Bible study
And they all might come to know me as a leader and a friend.
Oh, I could achieve success on earth, but success cannot define my worth
And all these actions, all these words, will not matter in the end-

Cause songs will fade to silence,
And stories, they will cease.
The dust will settle, covering all my selfless deeds.
So when I strive to serve you,
Won’t you make it clear to me,
That if I do not love, I am nothing.

If I cannot live my life loving my brother,
Then how can I love the one who lived his life for me?

Sent to earth from heaven,
Humble servant, holy king,
Come to share a story, get no glory, and save my searching soul,
You knew that I’d deny you, crucify you, but nothing could stop you from
Living for me, dying for me, so that I would know-

Songs will fade to silence,
Stories will cease,
The dust will settle covering these selfless deeds.
But your life here has made it clear enough for me to see
That if I do not love, I am nothing

I've had this song tucked away in my massive cd collection for several years now, and really first came across it this week as I packed and sorted various items (junk). My first thought was, "Man, I can't believe I lost this song," but really, the timing couldn't have been more perfect for it's discovery.

I've found myself lost as well the past few weeks--lost in the various compliments and praises for our decision to move out to the farm. "Oh, how wonderful that you want to go help people like that!" "So you want to be missionaries? How marvelous." Mess like that is what I'm talkin' about.

At first, I let the various accolades bounce off me without much effect. However, as Faith and I allow ourselves to continue to hear this flattery, it begins to take it's toll. In my mind, our value (based on our potentially righteous deeds) begins to rise. And slowly, but every so surely, the original intentions driven by compassion begin to give way to a sense of self-rigteousness.

So let's just say the song you just read, I Am Nothing, was a good kind of electroshock treatment. It showed me where my thoughts and intentions were heading, and where they needed to be. For as Ginny Owens sings, all my actions "will not matter in the end...if I do not love".

"Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?" Jesus replied: " 'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.' This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments."

Yesterday was my last day of work at Talitha Koum as I prepare for the big move out to the farm. So, I stole one of their books to remember them by. Just kidding...I intend on returning it today. The book is called What Is God's Name?, and is written/illustrated for infants and toddlers. Unfortunately, I can't copy the beautiful drawings into this post, but the story is like so:

After God created the world all living things were given a name.

But noone knew the name for God.

So each person looked for God's name.

The farmer called God Source of Life.

The man who tended sheep called God Shepherd.

The tired soldier called God Maker of Peace.

The woman who took care of sick people called God Healer.

The young woman who nursed her baby called God Mother.

The young man who held his baby's hand called God Father.

And the child who was lonely called God Friend.

All the people called God by different names.

Each person said "My name for God is the best"

But no one listened.

Then one day all the people came together.

The knelt by a lake that was like a mirror, God's mirror.

They looked and saw their own faces.

They saw the faces of all the others.

At that moment, the people knew that all their names for God were good.

All at once, all together, they called God One.

God heard and was very happy.

As I first read this short book in the infant room at work a few days ago, my thoughts immediately were of my church family at CUB. No two people are alike there. Church Under the Bridge is such a wide array of races, ages, education levels, economic levels, and religious backgrounds. As a result, everyone has a completely unique experience with Christ. All just as real and true as the next.

Just as in What Is God's Name?, our attitudes towards others' encounters with God can either cause division, or bring us into closer community with each other. Rather than snubbing or distancing ourselves from one of a different background or history--one who undoubtedly has a different experience with Christ--we can learn a whole new avenue of God's grace and love.

My dad sent me a nice 'ole care package this week, packed with old pictures, articles, and mail that somehow finds a way to be sent to my parents in Virginia. One of those articles was actually one that I first read a couple years ago. It's by Ben Stein. Some of you may remember Stein from his days as the host/contestant for a hilarious gameshow on Comedy Central called Win Ben Stein's Money. Personally, I'm most fond of his work as the magnificently monotoned science teacher in the way underappreciated tv show, The Wonder Years.

Ben Stein also apparently wrote a "gossip" column for E!Online that jibber-jabbered about the Who's who that dined at some upscale steakhouse. He decided to move on to other things, and wrote a very refreshing article. Do read it. It's entitled "How Can Someone Who Lives in Insane Luxury be a Star in Today's World? In it he writes of his frustration that "a man or woman who makes a huge wage for memorizing lines and reciting them in front of a camera" is considered a "shining star" by millions. He continues, "Real stars are not riding around in the backs of limousines or in Porsches or getting trained in yoga or Pilates and eating only raw fruit while they have Vietnamese girls do their nails." Rather, the real stars are the U.S. soldiers serving selflessly and practically anonymously for the lives of others, or firemen running into burning buildings to save those trying to run out. Paramedics, volunteers, teachers, and so on. He then writes:

We are puny, insignificant creatures. We are not responsible for the operation of the universe, and what happens to us is not terribly important. God is real, not a fiction; and when we turn over our lives to Him, He takes far better care of us than we could ever do for ourselves. In a word, we make ourselves sane when we fire ourselves as the directors of the movie of our lives and turn the power over to Him. I came to realize that life lived to help others is the only one that matters. This is my highest and best use as a human.

Stein confesses that he realized years ago that his acting, computing, or stand-up comedy would never be all that good. However, noone could match how devoted of a father, husband, or son he made himself to be for his children, wife, and parents. He concludes by saying that as he comforted his parents in their deaths, he discovered that his life touched the lives of others who gave their all without regard for themselves--the "real stars".

Looking on his final comments, I'd have to agree with Ben Stein fully. For fun sometimes, people throw around silly questions like, "If you could have dinner with any star, who would it be?" Or "If you could meet anyone, who would it be?" Typically, the answers are the famous celebrities of the day. However, I think my answer would end up being something like, my parents, brother, old mentors, etc. People who I find myself separated from. People who have given their lives and their love to me. People who I'd give just about anything to just spend some more time with them.

I go back to that article from time to time when I need a pick-me-up, or just to set my bearings. Bearings that are hopefully set to give myself selflessly to all those my sphere of life touches.

Last night as Faith and I were driving, we flipped to the John Tesh Radio Show (insert snide remark and chuckle here). On it he talked a bit about modern parents who tend to "outsource" their duties. Ok, before I continue, I feel as if I should defend myself for listening to John Tesh. So here I go--
Yes, John Tesh was a cheesy host for Entertainment Tonight many moons ago.
Yes, he perpetually looks as if he was beamed up from the cast of Miami Vice.
And yes, when he hits the piano, most of his music isn't original.

BUT, the man can flat-out play the piano...or "tickle the ivory", as my good friend Carlton says.
And as a believer, Tesh is a real advocate for worship music.
Finally, his show really isn't that bad. He promotes it as "Intelligence for Your Life", by playing light rock and giving tips, stats, and practical suggestions for everyday living.

Anyways, back to my story--so Tesh was talking about parents nowadays "outsourcing" their duties and/or roles to others. He hit on the fact that parents used to be parents without really worrying about how they did their job as parents. There wasn't a whole bunch of pop-psychology going around to confuse folks. So, parents typically just raised their kids in the same way they themselves were raised. Tesh notes that researchers have been studying parenting and familes for decades now, so many moms and dads are slowly becoming interested in what the "experts" have to say. Additionally, with the skyrocketing rise of families falling apart (divorce, absentee fathers, etc.), many parents are looking to do the best, or at the very least, give their children the best they can afford. He continues this thought by saying that parents will devote tons of money and endless amounts of time towards giving their kids the best of the best. They'll pay thousands of dollars to send their child to private school, pick them up from that school and take them to sports or music lessons that can cost almost as much as school! It's becoming a sort of epidemic, Tesh claims, because many parents today are paying others to raise their children for them. He closes up the piece by noting a survey of children in which it was found that the overwhelming majority of children do not want the best piano teacher or the elite travelling soccer club. Children want their parents! They want dad to coach...mom to mentor.

As soon as he made this statement, I nearly shouted an 'Amen!' As I look back over my childhood, I remember all that my parents did for me. They wanted the best for me, for sure. We even did the elite travelling soccer club deal for a while, which meant too much money dished out to spend 6-8 hours/week practicing and many weekends out-of-town. While those times were fun at times, that's not what I'm most fond of. I look back and smile on the many years I spent in the city rec programs, where I played soccer, basketball, and t-ball. Why am I most proud of the rec leagues? The competition was typically sub-par. So were our uniforms and fields for that matter! I loved those years of rec play because most of my teams were coached by my father. And on some of those odd years, my younger brother even became my teammate. I didn't necessarily develop my skills the most during that time. My love for whatever sport was in season didn't really strengthen either. What did develop and strengthen was my love for my family and the values they've tried to pass on to my brother and me over the years. I would no doubt be a different man now had my parents passed me off to some other parent to coach me during rec league, or if they had allowed me to stick with the travelling soccer club.

Realizing this, I'm undeniably grateful for the experience of having parents involved and imbedded in all that was me. As Faith and I ponder the prospect of becoming parents ourselves, this idea of involvement is something I hope I can duplicate myself.

i am
unencumbered by an
unpromising past
unfazed by obstacles that lay before me
unconcerned by the bigotry of bigots
unforgiving of stolen dignity and
unimpressed by promises
unfulfilled
still
i stand proud
uncompromised
unheard and unspoken
unrelenting and unbroken
take notice
i am the uncounquerable
soul of the ghetto

by an anonymous waco high school student, 2004

A friend of mine from the neighborhood gave me this poem tonight. A local teen wrote it last year for school. The poem immediately struck me--complete with all it's rough edges, determination, and heart. I've been working in, living around, and hanging out in this neighborhood for basically the entire 5 years of my existence here in Waco. At the end of the month, Faith and I will be moving out to the World Hunger Farm so I'll be very much disconnected from the community I've been a part of for these 5 years. Granted, I've got several friends who I'll regularly visit and I'll still go to the Sunday evening soccer games down the street, but I'll be more of a visitor...an outsider.

This concept brings mixed feelings for me. It'll be welcome relief from a community where for every success story you witness, there's two dozen other stories of failure or lost dreams. It'll be nice to be away from the traffic, the lights, the sirens while living in relative seclusion from busy-ness. On the other hand, most of my relationships will be changed, perhaps for the worse. The time, finances, tears, and even blood I've shed over the last 5 years almost seems all for naught.

And then there's the whole idea of unfinished work. As I step away from what I've invested myself into, I can't help but allow thoughts such as "Is the timing right?" or "Am I making the right decision?" to pass through my mind. For instance, I just came across some recent statistics regarding a local subsidized apartment complex. This happens to be the place where my office was located for roughly two years, as well as the place where I volunteerd with my youth group for backyard Bible clubs for about three years. The stats read like this:

There are 200 housing units in the complex, with 850 residents in those 200 units.
Of those 200 units,
182 are headed by single women,
17 are headed by an elderly person,
1 has a married couple living in it.
Of those 850 residents, 650 are under the age of 18.
Of the 182 single women living in the complex, approximately 94% are mothers, and less than half have graduated high school or earned their GED.

As these facts stare me down, I feel quite overwhelmed--both with what I've been in the middle of for several years now, and with what I'm seemingly walking away from. I don't suppose there's an easy answer for such a dilemma. Faith and I have no doubt regarding the next steps we'll be taking together. But nonetheless, there's a sense of loss there. Not too different from graduating high school or marriage I suppose.

The thing with graduating and marrying though, is that while there's a big loss one must endure, the new life and absolute joy that comes with the territory eventually wipes away any fears or inhibitions one may have.

So perhaps the same is true for the "new life" that Faith and I are about to partake in.

Now this is what I'm talking about folks. You've heard my various rants concerning politics. Perhaps this is a step in the right direction. First, if you don't have a toilet in your home, don't bother contesting elections in India. Secondly, if Rep. Singh has anything to say about it, you might as well not even run for office if you've got no in-house toilet. If you don't know what I'm talkin about, check out this story out of India.

As humorous as this story is, it does bring up an interesting argument. India is a country where 7 out of 10 people don't have access to toilets and, therefore, have to use the bathroom in the streets. Besides this being extremely nasty, 700 million people defecating in the streets and rivers is a major health issue. So I say, why not pressure the government and villages to enable their citizens to get toilets for their homes--while at the same time educating and applying proper pressure on those very citizens to be proactive about the whole matter.

On that note, it's time to make good use of mine.

Sitting outside in the jungle that was the backyard
of the Bonner Garden B&B in San Antonio.

We're back from our 1st anniversary weekend! The trip in San Antonio was very enjoyable, jam-packed with sightseeing, relaxing, and fun times. In my previous post, I talked briefly about what I learned in our first year of marriage. Much can be said about all that I learned during our short stay in San Antonio!

For instance...

-Faith and I relate, communicate, and grow much more when we get away together alone. Half of it has to do with the fact that the weekend was spent solely for the two of us. And the other half is definitely due to the lack of distractions--other people, computer, work, etc. I can easily see this relate to my spiritual life. The necessities of life (work, relationships), along with the "conveniences" that make our life "better" (internet, media) regularly distract me away from any semblance of a relationship with Christ. Hopefully I'll be willing to apply this lesson.

-The Bonner Garden B&B is an excellent choice for accomodations if you ever visit San Antonio. It's a beautiful old home. Faith and I particularly adored the rooftop access, swimming pool, excellent breakfasts served by the hosts, beautiful greenery surrounding the house, and exquisite furniture throughout the rooms.

-San Antonio is the absolute worst city for parking. My father ingrained in me as a child the importance of finding the best parking spot (which invariably requires for that spot to be free of charge). So needless to say, search for this best spot I did while in San Antonio. We could not find one free parking space in the entire downtown district. Travesty of travesties.

-In Faith's 24 years of living, she has yet to learn how to open a bottle/can of soda. Crazy huh? I lost count of the times over the weekend she opened a can or bottle of Dr. Pepper and had it spew all over my car. Seriously, this happened more over the weekend than it's happened to me while living in Texas.

So that's a snippet of what this anniversary weekend taught me. Thanks to all you who called or emailed me with best wishes on our first year...they were definitely much appreciated! Here's to year numero dos.

Peace

On Sunday, August 7, Faith and I will celebrate our 1st year of marriage together. And boy what a year! There's no real way to prepare yourself for what being married is like. Some folks say it's really hard. One of my bosses at Mission Waco has been married for close to 30 years, and what sticks out to them the most was how miserable they were their first couple of years! Then there's the folks that talk about how easy the "honeymoon phase" of marriage is.

I really don't know how I would describe the first year to anyone who hasn't experienced it. I DEFINITELY would not use "easy" or "difficult" to label it. I would probably simply say that it's important to be prepared to learn an unfathomable amount.

In this inaugural year of marriage, some of the things I've learned include:

-just how selfish I really am
-about allowing the 'other' to penetrate every avenue of your life
-that one can't overemphasize the importance of c-o-m-m-u-n-i-c-a-t-i-o-n...(and that I really suck at it)
-that every decision made has to be made on behalf and in consideration of the Other
-leaving the toilet lid up too often will lead to many unpleasant looks
-putting the toilet paper on the "wrong way" gets unpleasant looks and a few choice words

But probably the one thing I've learned the most, and have had the hardest idea grappling is the concept of submission. In Ephesians 5, likely the most famous passage in the Bible on marriage, Paul says forthright, "Wives, submit to your husbands as to the Lord." Afterwards, he makes the following commandment to husbands, "Love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her..." Traditionally, I think Christians have interpreted that to mean the following--Wives, you should submit to your man. Husbands, love your woman a whole lot.

After a year of marriage under my belt, I think I can confidently say that is nothing but a bunch of mularky. Faith and I have had plenty of disagreements, discussions, and a few arguments. And what I've discovered is that submission simply cannot be expected from one end and not the other. It absolutely has to go both ways. It doesn't contradict Paul's writing one bit either. If we, as husbands, are to love our wives as Christ loved the church, then to me that rings of nothing but submission. Christ's whole purpose, his mandate, while on earth was that of submission. So if anything, husbands are required to follow a pretty steep example of submission.

Stated most briefly, love means doing those things that are in the best interest of others instead of doing what serves self best.

So, that said, we'll be heading to San Antonio Friday for a short holiday while we can afford it. I won't be around a computer until Monday or Tuesday. Grace, mercy, and peace to you all.

Last night we watched an incredible movie entitled Downfall, just released onto video this week. It covers the final two weeks of Adolf Hitler's life during WWII. Over the past few weeks, some buddies of mine and I have beeng watching the HBO WWII series, Band of Brothers, so we're quite saturated by World War II to say the least! Nonetheless, Downfall was a wonderful change of pace. Not one American soldier was shown, and the only other glimpse of the Allied forces came when you see the Russians as they've finally overtaken the city at the end. So, you're completely immersed in the end of the war from the German side.

The entire movie follows Hitler, his generals, and their families during their final days hidden in a series of bunkers in Berlin. It does a marvelous job of portraying various key people on the German side. You certainly see the sickening ways that Hitler and his closest followers carried out his last demands with cruelty. But, you also glimpse a few who begin to see just how mad and perverse the regime was.

If you've got any interest in history, or if you've got an appreciation for accuracy that you can't completely get by watching movies made on this side of the Atlantic, then definitely rent Downfall.

This morning as I was listening to "Walk On" one of my favorite U2 songs (and by 'favorite' I really mean 'top 20', for you can't simply narrow their greatest hits down to a few), I was immediately struck by emotion with how these words speak directly to the ladies I work for at Mission Waco. While the song was originally written for Nobel Peace Prize Winner and Burmese political prisoner Aung San Suu Kyi, it also accurately paints the picture of many of the ladies in our job training class. For while Suu Kyi has been under a strict house arrest for several years now, the ladies in our class often spend their entire lives in a sort of 'house arrest'.

Let's begin with a portion of "Walk On", shall we?

And if the darkness is to keep us apart
And if the daylight feels like it's a long way off
And if your glass heart should crack
And for a second you turn back
Oh no, be strong

Walk on...Walk on
What you got, they can't steal it
No they can't even feel it

Walk on...Walk on
Stay safe tonight

You're packing a suitcase for a place
None of us has been
A place that has to be believed
To be seen

You could have flown away
A singing bird in an open cage
Who will only fly, only fly for freedom

Walk on...Walk on
What you got they can't deny it
Can't sell it or buy it

Walk on...Walk on
Stay safe tonight

And I know it aches
How your heart it breaks
You can only take so much

Home...Hard to know what it is
If you never had one

Home...I can't say where it is
But I know I'm going

Home...That's where the hurt is

And I know it aches
And your heart it breaks
You can only take so much. Walk on

Leave it behind...You've got to leave it behind

The job training class I help with is usually 90% women, typically due to the fact that most of the students in the class have to meet certain criteria, such as being on government assistance for needy families. And to be on said assistance, one needs to be a custodial parent. So, in a low-income single parent family, your usual custodial parent is most likely going to be the mother.

As a young, white middle-class male who grew up very sheltered from realities such as this, I find myself overwhelmed quite often. Our students--young ladies barely into their 20's and already with 2,3,4, sometimes 5 children--experience constant, daily hardships. Nearly every morning, at least one will walk into the office with an emergency or tragedy or some sort of drama. Over the past week they've included:

a subpoena to court,
1 broken arm due to domestic violence,
5 sick children,
2 emergency requests to help pay for rent/bills
5 days missed of school due to illness or pregnancy complications

As I said, this is stuff that has happened within the last week to our small class of 10! So being overwhelmed at times is nothing out of the ordinary. Unfortunately, getting involved in the chaos and heartache that our students bring to class with them each day eventually leaves us feeling jaded and a bit depressed at times. My coworkers and I become very cynical of society, the government, churches, and every other institution that has failed them so far. At the same time, we become skeptical of our students' ability and even desire to find a way out of the holes they find themselves in.

So, when I was hit by the words of "Walk On" this morning, needless to say it brought welcome relief from the cynicism and skepticism. As Bono sang, And if the daylight feels like it's a long way off, and if your glass heart should crack, and for a second you turn back. Oh no, be strong, I thought of our dear women who feel as if they're constantly groping in the darkness, waiting for some semblance of light to appear on the horizon. These same women, who have been hardened and tried and tested so that they appear hard and bitter on the outside are still quite fragile, or "glass hearted", as Bono would say. Tears inevitably flow and it seems easy to give up, but they somehow find strength to continue on though the odds are against them.

And as the song continued,
Home...Hard to know what it is
If you never had one

Home...I can't say where it is
But I know I'm going

Home...That's where the hurt is

And I know it aches
And your heart it breaks
You can only take so much. Walk on

...my heart broke. For I've come to know a few of the children of our students. I've come to understand the painful past our students have had to endure--broken families, substance abuse, physical abuse, and depression. And as they try to create a home for their sons and daughters, they also have to find a way to cope, to recover. How can they know how to build a home if they've never had one? Or worse yet, how can they build a home if the only home they've known is one "where the hurt is"?

It's with this broken heart that I think that I finally began to identify with our ladies. Yes, I'll never experience even half of the mess they've had to endure. But as the tears welled up in my eyes this morning and I sang, I know it aches, and your heart it aches. You can only take so much, I felt a bit of the hope that can rise from desperate times. And as I pulled into the parking lot at work, greeted some of the students at the door, and opened the door to the class for them, I sensed their optimisim and determination to overcome all odds.