This is an unusual post for me, but I am doing it anyway. I was going through some old files on my computer and cleaning them out, when I came across a creative essay that I wrote in 2007. A friend and I were working on a National History Day project on the selfimmolation of Norman Morrison, a Quaker, during the Vietnam War. We went on to win State and compete in D.C. (total nerds, I know), but this was a short essay that we had to write for my AP U.S. History class. I read through it again, and thought, This is actually kinda good. It's a little rough (I was a junior in high school) but I like it. So, if you like to read things like this, I am posting it. :) Also, fyi, this is a true story and Norman's actions really did have an enormous impact in both America and Vietnam. Enjoy!
There were many Americans that were in opposition to the Vietnam War, but none so vehemently against it as a man by the name of Norman Morrison. The 32-year-old Quaker minister from the busy little city of Baltimore had managed to create a tidal wave of impact that stretched across the world.
On a quiet November morning, Norman Morrison woke up with a head cold. As he sat down to his usual breakfast of eggs and toast, he picked up the recent I.F. Stone’s Weekly to read the latest reports on the War. What he read on the black and white pages disturbed him greatly, and struck a chord in his heart that had yet to be played.
“I have seen my faithful burned up in napalm. I have seen the bodies of women and children blown to bits. I have seen all my villages razed. By God, it’s not possible!” The words of an anguished priest in Vietnam reverberated throughout his brain, and his body yearned for it to stop. His toast tasted more like sandpaper, and the eggs like tasteless mush. What was there for him to do? What could he, a pacifist since birth and an ordinary man of ordinary means, do about the horrific tragedies occurring in Vietnam?
Just as each frame of a motion picture flicks by a viewer’s eyes, never noticeable by itself but yet an indispensable part of a plan, so Norman was inspired by an idea. What had been a flash in his mind became his sole focus. He called his secretary to tell her that he was sick, and would be taking the day off. In charge of his baby girl for the day, he packed up his 11-month-old daughter Emily in the family Volkswagen, explaining to her that daddy was going to take her for a ride. Just before departing, he wrote a quick note to his wife telling her “I love thee but must act for the children of the priest’s village.”
As they drove, the car was silent except for the rush of wind through the partially cracked windows. Norman’s mind wandered over many events, both significant and empty, yet every one revealed its purpose in his life. As he gazed at his sleeping daughter in the rear-view mirror, he thought of her future and the future of the children just like her that were in Vietnam. As much as it pained him, he knew that something had to be done to keep the world in check, if only for the safety of Emily.
Norman found himself driving through the streets of Washington D.C., watching the people rushing to work in their suits and ties. He fingered his homespun wool sweater and thought of how he would never be one of them. Almost without thinking, he pulled into a parking space along a side street. He pulled his little girl out of the back seat, wrapped her in a blanket to protect her from the chill of fall, and walked with purposeful steps towards the Pentagon.
The sounds of horns blaring and people shouting were dulled in his mind, and his ears were acutely aware of the crunching of the leaves underneath his feet as he walked. The fragile yet vibrant remainders of life, so quickly swept away by the wind, but so beautiful to see while they lasted. The reds, yellows and oranges filled his sight as he approached the Pentagon. He looked up to the fifth floor, where he knew the Secretary of Defense, Robert McNamara had his office. He thought to himself that if only McNamara knew how many innocent lives were being wasted for such a useless cause…
Norman sighed and looked into the bright blue eyes of his little angel, her blonde hair glowing like a halo in the morning rays. His mind wavered for a moment as he thought of the precious value of life. But he reminded himself of all the other people that were being robbed of this valuable gift, and knew that someone had to try to give it back to them.
Still clutching Emily, he climbed up on a low wall just a few hundred feet from the Pentagon. With his free hand he pulled out a small jug of kerosene and poured it all over himself. As the thick fluid ran down his head and neck, soaking his clothing, he felt a wave of peace wash over him. This is what I was meant to do. This is the answer to all those questions.
People had begun to notice the man standing on the wall, and began to gather around. A woman ran up to Norman, screaming at him to save his child. It was as if a shroud of tranquility had been draped around him, and he was no longer afraid. He wondered why the woman was so upset- of course he wasn’t going to hurt his baby girl. To appease her hysteria, he tossed Emily into her arms, and then pulled his little box of matches out of his pocket.
He looked up into the crisp blue sky and thanked God for showing him his purpose and giving him the strength he needed to carry it out. He smiled for the first time that day, and before he knew it he had lit a match and begun a fire that would burn its way into the memory of thousands. His sacrifice told the story of a quest for peace that touched the lives of people all around the world. In one moment, Norman Morrison went from a common Quaker living in Baltimore, to an international icon representing peace and justice. As one of his friends later put it, his message was “See what it is like for a man to die by fire. See it for yourselves. You, who make impersonal war, devising strategies and tactics in your air-conditioned offices, look and see!”
Also, another side note: Norman Morrison's wife currently resides in Black Mountain, NC and I had the privilege of interviewing her and their daughter Emily. They are a wonderful and amazing family.
January 27, 2011
January 16, 2011
Snow, Snow, Snow
So, basically, I have completely had my fill of snow. Like, for at least another several years.
The weekend before classes started, Chris and I went backpacking in the Smoky Mountains with my dad and a friend of his. Mt. Leconte. 9.1 miles all uphill to get there. 4,500+ feet of elevation gain. In case you don't quite understand what all that means - just think intense burning in your thighs, calves, butt, back, neck, hamstrings, feet, and anything else you can think of. Yes, it hurt, but I also burned approximately 100,000 calories. Seriously.
So without boring you with the gruesome details, the story goes like this: We started around 8am (1" of snow), and hiked relatively non-stop until about 6pm (18" of snow). This means we spent the last 30-ish minutes in the dark. We reached the shelter at the top (good thing my dad knew where we were going, cause it was snowing like crazy and headlamps can only shine so far) and dumped our packs. No fires allowed due to "unacceptable use of resources." Thank you, dumb stupid campers who think that you can cut down a tree and immediately burn it. Fail. We rushed through dinner (yay freeze-dried food) and quickly dove into our down sleeping bags to get warm.
Now, our sleeping bags are made to keep you warm and toasty down to 0 degrees. Chris was warm and toasty. I was not. Well, I was warm enough to sleep some, but not warm enough to sleep well. And I immediately felt better about it when we found out that it had gotten down to -6. When we woke up in the morning, this is what we found:
It had snowed over a foot during the night and was now above our knees. Apparently, my dad had almost rented snowshoes for us, but decided not to waste the money since it wasn't supposed to snow very much. In my personal opinion, "mother nature" is a form of God's humor. We can cure diseases, perform brain surgery, predict volcanic eruptions and map the galaxies. What we can't do, however, is predict the weather. We like to think that we can, but we cannot. As a rule in Asheville, if the weatherman is calling for snow, we go the opposite way he predicts. A few inches means at least a foot. A foot or more means a few inches. It's great. So, no snowshoes for us and a day of plowing ahead.
Because of the extreme conditions, we chose to abandon our plans of hiking to another shelter and spending another night out. The caretaker on Mt. Leconte (what a job) said the snow was predicted to continue for the next 2 days. So, down we went, another 9.1 miles. I wish I could say it was super easy because it was all downhill, but it was like treading water. Just frozen water. And, unfortunately, due to the crazy cold temperatures, our lunch and our water froze solid. We had to resort to power bars that required a minimum of 30 min. in our pockets in order for us to bite/chew them. Mmmmm good stuff. I really wish I had weighed myself beforehand so I could see how much I lost. In my mind's estimate, I'm thinking like 5 pounds. That might be a bit high, but you see, I was really, really, really tired. :)
I think the knowledge that we were heading to a car (sitting down) and home (warm, warm, warm) kept me in fairly good spirits for most of the day.
I did great until the last few hours (in the dark, by the way) in which I felt very much like a plodding camel, not even thinking about my steps, or much of anything for that matter. It's amazing how your brain/body copes with things. BUT we made it!! A call to the ranger station to let us out (the road was closed due to the snow and we were inside), an hour and a half drive and a Taco Bell run later, we were doing much better. I couldn't really move my body, but I wasn't cold.
Needless to say, I do not think a trip to Mt. Leconte will be part of my Christmas break plans next year. Maybe we'll go to Florida. Or South America. Either is good with me. :)
The weekend before classes started, Chris and I went backpacking in the Smoky Mountains with my dad and a friend of his. Mt. Leconte. 9.1 miles all uphill to get there. 4,500+ feet of elevation gain. In case you don't quite understand what all that means - just think intense burning in your thighs, calves, butt, back, neck, hamstrings, feet, and anything else you can think of. Yes, it hurt, but I also burned approximately 100,000 calories. Seriously.
So without boring you with the gruesome details, the story goes like this: We started around 8am (1" of snow), and hiked relatively non-stop until about 6pm (18" of snow). This means we spent the last 30-ish minutes in the dark. We reached the shelter at the top (good thing my dad knew where we were going, cause it was snowing like crazy and headlamps can only shine so far) and dumped our packs. No fires allowed due to "unacceptable use of resources." Thank you, dumb stupid campers who think that you can cut down a tree and immediately burn it. Fail. We rushed through dinner (yay freeze-dried food) and quickly dove into our down sleeping bags to get warm.
Now, our sleeping bags are made to keep you warm and toasty down to 0 degrees. Chris was warm and toasty. I was not. Well, I was warm enough to sleep some, but not warm enough to sleep well. And I immediately felt better about it when we found out that it had gotten down to -6. When we woke up in the morning, this is what we found:
It had snowed over a foot during the night and was now above our knees. Apparently, my dad had almost rented snowshoes for us, but decided not to waste the money since it wasn't supposed to snow very much. In my personal opinion, "mother nature" is a form of God's humor. We can cure diseases, perform brain surgery, predict volcanic eruptions and map the galaxies. What we can't do, however, is predict the weather. We like to think that we can, but we cannot. As a rule in Asheville, if the weatherman is calling for snow, we go the opposite way he predicts. A few inches means at least a foot. A foot or more means a few inches. It's great. So, no snowshoes for us and a day of plowing ahead.
Because of the extreme conditions, we chose to abandon our plans of hiking to another shelter and spending another night out. The caretaker on Mt. Leconte (what a job) said the snow was predicted to continue for the next 2 days. So, down we went, another 9.1 miles. I wish I could say it was super easy because it was all downhill, but it was like treading water. Just frozen water. And, unfortunately, due to the crazy cold temperatures, our lunch and our water froze solid. We had to resort to power bars that required a minimum of 30 min. in our pockets in order for us to bite/chew them. Mmmmm good stuff. I really wish I had weighed myself beforehand so I could see how much I lost. In my mind's estimate, I'm thinking like 5 pounds. That might be a bit high, but you see, I was really, really, really tired. :)
I think the knowledge that we were heading to a car (sitting down) and home (warm, warm, warm) kept me in fairly good spirits for most of the day.
I did great until the last few hours (in the dark, by the way) in which I felt very much like a plodding camel, not even thinking about my steps, or much of anything for that matter. It's amazing how your brain/body copes with things. BUT we made it!! A call to the ranger station to let us out (the road was closed due to the snow and we were inside), an hour and a half drive and a Taco Bell run later, we were doing much better. I couldn't really move my body, but I wasn't cold.
Needless to say, I do not think a trip to Mt. Leconte will be part of my Christmas break plans next year. Maybe we'll go to Florida. Or South America. Either is good with me. :)
January 11, 2011
Only Love Remains
So, basically, I have become addicted to JJ Heller. Not only does she write beautiful music, but she has a super cute blog and her entire family (husband and little girl) are absolutely precious. My new favorite song is one by her called Only Love Remains.
Scenes of you come rushing through
You are breaking me down
So break me into pieces
That will grow in the ground
I know that I deserve to die
For the murder in my heart
So be gentle with me Jesus
As you tear me apart
Please kill the liar
Kill the thief in me
You know that I am tired of their cruelty
Breathe into my spirit
Breathe into my veins
Until only love remains
You burn away the ropes that bind
And hold me to the earth
The fire only leaves behind whatever is of worth
I begin to see reality
For the first time in my life
I know that I’m a shadow
But I’m dancing in your light
Teach me to be humble
Call me from the grave
Show me how to walk with you upon the waves
Breathe into my spirit
Breathe into my veins
Until only love remains
Scenes of you come rushing through
You are breaking me down
So break me into pieces
That will grow in the ground
I know that I deserve to die
For the murder in my heart
So be gentle with me Jesus
As you tear me apart
Please kill the liar
Kill the thief in me
You know that I am tired of their cruelty
Breathe into my spirit
Breathe into my veins
Until only love remains
You burn away the ropes that bind
And hold me to the earth
The fire only leaves behind whatever is of worth
I begin to see reality
For the first time in my life
I know that I’m a shadow
But I’m dancing in your light
Teach me to be humble
Call me from the grave
Show me how to walk with you upon the waves
Breathe into my spirit
Breathe into my veins
Until only love remains
January 3, 2011
Happy New Year!
If you have never worshipped long enough and loud enough to lose your voice, I highly recommend it. It's probably not the best thing for your vocal chords, but what's the use of vocal chords anyway, if you can't use them to praise the One who made you? It is truly a beautiful thing when a perfectionist like myself can let go and sing as loud as I can, disregarding whether I am on key or not, tears of joy streaming down my face, and know without a doubt that it is a beautiful sound to my Lord. This was what I did for New Year's. I couldn't think of a better way to usher in 2011.
As part of Campus Crusade for Christ's winter conference, over 1,000 college students gather together and pray together from 11:30pm December 31st to 12:15am January 1st. We don't do the "real" countdown, but instead spend that time in prayer, praying for our campuses, our cities, and our world. Then we have our own countdown, and spend an hour in amazing praise and worship before moving into another room for a dance party that lasts until 3am.
A little something I did in the art expression room. :)
I have been a part of this winter conference for 3 years, and they have been the 3 best New Year's celebrations I have ever had. Who needs a big, flashy ball on television when you can close your eyes and imagine the glory of Christ? What is the use of noise makers when you're in a room full of students singing praises at the top of their lungs? Why have shiny party hats and crazy glasses, when simply raising your hands can make you feel so loved?
I'm not a fan of New Year's resolutions, due to the fact that I don't know anyone who has ever kept one, and I simply think they're dumb. We can't do anything to change ourselves, anyway. Instead, I have decided to take what I've learned at the conference and ask God to help me be more of a prayer warrior, constantly running to him for guidance, help, praise, requests, and thankfulness - all at the drop of a hat. This is not a resolution. This is a life change that I know I will not fail to make, due to the fact that God is going to help me make it. So seriously, if you have anything that you would like prayer for, I would absolutely LOVE to pray for you. :)
"Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus." I Thess. 5:16-18
January 2, 2011
Princess Jumalabi
A child's laughter is sweet music to the ear - like angels singing, a joy to listen.
This is one of the joys of my heart. This is a 10-year-old girl from Thailand who came to America 3 months ago as a refugee. This is a girl whose extreme bravery and courage shone through like rays from the sun, despite her lack of English. This is a girl who still easily trusts and easily laughs, despite her past experiences. There is so much I can learn from her. This is Princess Jumalabi.
As part of Campus Crusade for Christ's winter conference, I got to participate in a very special day of outreach. We partnered with my wonderful church and rented out the outdoor ice-skating rink in downtown Greensboro. We then buddied up with refugee children and taught them to ice-skate. It was probably one of the funniest, most tiring, and most enjoyable experiences I have ever had.
Even though many of the children had trouble communicating with us, smiles and laughter were all that were needed. As my friend Leeann pointed out, joy was radiating from this little rink in a way that can't be described. My little buddy probably had no idea what I was saying to her as I tried to show her how to skate, but I'm sure she knew she was doing well when I cheered for her. Even when she fell, our combined laughter had to let her know that it was alright. I caught her 99% of the time, but I am human and not the absolute best at skating myself. Despite my faults, her trust in me was evident in her insistence on skating faster and faster (although her balance and control was severely lacking). She would skate ahead of me, without looking back, and immediately reach for my arm the moment she started to fall. In just 2 short hours, she could skate pretty much on her own.
I felt like a proud parent as I watched her. It's crazy how much you can grow to love someone that you can't even talk to. I warmed her cold hands and tried to communicate through smiles and clapping that she was an amazing little girl that was loved. Even a little girl from my church offered Jumalabi her gloves in one of the most beautiful displays of love I have ever seen.
This is how God must feel. This is how He feels when we trust in Him follow wherever He leads. This is how He feels when we are truly filled with joy. This is how He feels when we give sacrificially to one another in love. He must take such great joy in being our proud Father. The sparkling eyes and beaming smiles I saw all around that ice rink reflected the love of the One who has done everything for us.
Chris' buddy was Usi, Jumalabi's brother. I think the Spiderman hat is what attracted him. :) Here are a few pictures.
This is one of the joys of my heart. This is a 10-year-old girl from Thailand who came to America 3 months ago as a refugee. This is a girl whose extreme bravery and courage shone through like rays from the sun, despite her lack of English. This is a girl who still easily trusts and easily laughs, despite her past experiences. There is so much I can learn from her. This is Princess Jumalabi.
As part of Campus Crusade for Christ's winter conference, I got to participate in a very special day of outreach. We partnered with my wonderful church and rented out the outdoor ice-skating rink in downtown Greensboro. We then buddied up with refugee children and taught them to ice-skate. It was probably one of the funniest, most tiring, and most enjoyable experiences I have ever had.
Even though many of the children had trouble communicating with us, smiles and laughter were all that were needed. As my friend Leeann pointed out, joy was radiating from this little rink in a way that can't be described. My little buddy probably had no idea what I was saying to her as I tried to show her how to skate, but I'm sure she knew she was doing well when I cheered for her. Even when she fell, our combined laughter had to let her know that it was alright. I caught her 99% of the time, but I am human and not the absolute best at skating myself. Despite my faults, her trust in me was evident in her insistence on skating faster and faster (although her balance and control was severely lacking). She would skate ahead of me, without looking back, and immediately reach for my arm the moment she started to fall. In just 2 short hours, she could skate pretty much on her own.
I felt like a proud parent as I watched her. It's crazy how much you can grow to love someone that you can't even talk to. I warmed her cold hands and tried to communicate through smiles and clapping that she was an amazing little girl that was loved. Even a little girl from my church offered Jumalabi her gloves in one of the most beautiful displays of love I have ever seen.
This is how God must feel. This is how He feels when we trust in Him follow wherever He leads. This is how He feels when we are truly filled with joy. This is how He feels when we give sacrificially to one another in love. He must take such great joy in being our proud Father. The sparkling eyes and beaming smiles I saw all around that ice rink reflected the love of the One who has done everything for us.
Chris' buddy was Usi, Jumalabi's brother. I think the Spiderman hat is what attracted him. :) Here are a few pictures.
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