Air conditioning and Escalades

The air conditioning unit at my house quit working yesterday. It needs to be replaced. Anyone who has had this repair done knows it costs a fortune. It's one of those things that's extraordinarily expensive simply because people are willing to pay for it. Why are they willing to pay for it? Because they feel they need it.

Here's an excerpt from a conversation tonight:

Ethan: So did the air conditioner really break, Dad?

Dad: Yeah. That thing's gonna cost $(fill in the blank with absurdly high number) to replace. Can you believe that?

Me: Yep. They know people will pay for it. Why don't you just not replace it?

Ethan: Are you kidding? Caley, I'm sitting here sweating.

Me: So? You can deal with it. Write a book entitled The Summer Without Air Conditioning, then sell it at Borders where hundreds of thousands of rich Americans will buy it because of intrigue about the sheer horror of it.

Actually, even before yesterday, air conditioning had been on my mind a lot lately.

An idea started forming in my head while in Mexico, but I wasn't able to put it into words until I read it in a book. There's this thing called entitlement. Merriam Webster explains this as "a right to benefits specified especially by law or contract" or "belief that one is deserving or entitled to certain privileges."

What are you entitled to? I think we can all agree that that every person is entitled to the basic needs of life--food, water, shelter, etc. As Christians, if we believe that everyone is created in the image of God, it means everyone we encounter is entitled to respect and love. Jesus healed; I believe people are entitled to health. We're entitled to family and friendship. We're entitled to think and feel how we want. Unfortunately, sometimes this thing called sin gets in the way, sin that makes the world an unjust place, sin that separates us from the once-perfect communion we had with our Creator, each other, and the earth. Sin is the reason so many people are starving. Sin is the reason so many children are born HIV positive. Sin is the reason there are orphans. Sin is the reason people commit suicide. In Mexico, I encountered many of these issues. Staggering statistics were shared about the amounts of domestic violence, alcoholism, and suicide in the Yucatan.  I visited an orphanage. I listened to a group of men who spoke about their working conditions and how it is to raise a family there. I heard a human rights organization talk about the oppression of the Mayan people.

What about us as Americas? What are we entitled to? "Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness." Life. That makes sense. Liberty--we have our Bill of Rights that states the freedoms our country gracious grants to us. The pursuit of happiness? This is where I believe things have gone very wrong.

In our pursuit of happiness, we've gained an incredible sense of entitlement that's nearly unfathomable. The list could be endless, but above all else, we believe we're entitled to physical comfort. In this category are spacious cars, running water with an adjustable temperature, plush couches, the perfect mattress, carpeting, bug spray, a good haircut, refrigeration, our own bedrooms, square footage, reliable plumbing, privacy, window screens, coffee, clothing for all occasions, interior décor, air freshener, contact lenses, music to suit our tastes, television, internet available everywhere, cleaning supplies, grocery stores, libraries, schools, transportation whenever we want, home security systems, variety and options, a routine, the newspaper…and, yes, air conditioning.

Do you see anything wrong with this? There's nothing wrong with many of these things, but the more we get, the more we "need." The more technology and the quality of life improves, the more we can't live without. Pretty soon, we're buying Escalades.

I was driving with my dad earlier today. We found ourselves stopped at a red light next to a black Cadillac Escalade. He commented on how nice it was. That, naturally, set me off on a rant about expensive cars and Oprah and why they both disgust me. The Escalade is one of the most coveted SUVs. The base price of the 2011 Escalade is rumored to be roughly $63,000. It gets 14 miles per gallon, or a maximum of 20 on highways.  People want them. People buy them. People love them. People take care of them. This is a CAR.  Why? Because they've worked hard for that $63,000 and they feel they've earned it.

How much do we spend on luxury? What would happen if we all gave up, or at least downgraded, our Escalades? I don't think we've all been called to a life of poverty. God has immensely blessed America and us as individuals, and I think to completely deny ourselves of those blessings would, in a way, be disrespectful. However, I think we're called, in turn, to use the resources we have to bless others, and I think this starts with giving up our sense of entitlement. Only then will we become clearly aware of how much we're blessed with.

The day I returned from Mexico, I decided on a challenge for myself this year: I will not use air conditioning in my car. Air conditioning isn't the point. The point is that whenever I get in my horribly warm car and start to sweat, I remember that I'm not entitled to much in my life. Somehow, miraculously, a lack of air conditioning has led to an indescribable amount of contentment--more than I've ever had in my life--an understanding of how much I have, an increased awe of God, and a greater care for others. It was hardly a sacrifice for me, the person who is always cold anyway, but it's amazing what a change in perspective it can bring when an option is taken away.

Try giving up something small that you take for granted, that many people feel entitled to. See what happens. 

Something to ponder

Since my return from Mexico, I've been struggling to verbalize precisely why the trip was so significant to me. Just a few minutes ago, I came across this blog post by Chip Huber, the Dean of Student Engagement at my school, and it really helped describe why I believe Mexico had such an impact. I found it to be pretty compelling.

Missing Zambia...and Why I Think Everyone Needs to GO...

Today is an interesting day for me...I woke up this morning thinking about a team of folks from my former school who were spending their first day in Zambia...this is the first trip that Wheaton Academy is taking where I'm not leading the trip, and it is the first year I won't be visiting sub-Saharan Africa since 2004...don't get me wrong, I am way, way thrilled that they are still going without me...in fact, that is the whole point, isn't it as a leader? But there is a real sadness that I'm not there with them, seeing old friends, playing soccer on dirt fields as the WORLD CUP goes on a couple countries below, and being moved again by the mixture of great need and great Kingdom work present in a nation and communities I've strangely fallen in love with...

A couple weeks ago I already started working on setting up dates to take students from my new campus environment back to Zambia and all that Africa has to offer...I can't imagine not going back, and I still deeply feel called to expose students and co-workers to life and the church and reality in this other part of the world...there are already plans in the works here at Cornerstone to host a big soccer event to help raise funds to purchase bednets that we can distribute next summer as we fight and help to prevent the deadly impact of malaria on families and children...and I've been left to wonder why I am still so consumed with taking people to meet others and see things that I know has great potential to make messy their lives that might be rather together and tidy in their current states...

Below is an excerpt from Palmer Chinchen's new book True Religion that speaks to the power of being deeply bothered when we experience things that produce real conflict in our lives are turned loose...it's a great summary piece of why I long to and will continue to take people to places different than their own worlds...to be disturbed and moved to response and in the process to become spiritually transformed...

"Welcome to hell," the European doctor greeted our medical team snidely at the entrance to the Lilongwe Hospital. Hell is what it was.

I had first visited hell a few years earlier when Boyd, a young man I knew in Lilongwe, was struck by a car while crossing the road at dusk.

Boyd's father showed up at my house in the dark and asked anxiously if! would drive him and his family to the hospital to find his son.

The stench was nauseating. Every part of the hospital was in some state of disrepair. Nothing appeared to have been painted in years. I watched the staff mop floors that remained curiously grimy.

We found Boyd on a dingy gurney in the hallway leading to the ER. He had a compound fracture; the bone protruded through the skin. His leg, his pants, and the gurney were all drenched in blood. He was still bleeding.

"Has he seen a doctor?" I asked.

An ER attendant spoke. "No, we are waiting for the doctor."

I walked into the ER to try to find help. There were no doctors, so I rounded up two interns and convinced them to bring Boyd into the ER to get the bleeding stopped and clean the puncture wound in his leg. They agreed, rolled him into the ER, and promised to look after him until the doctor arrived. I felt good about being helpful and headed home.

That was Friday night. Late Monday evening, Boyd's father was back at my door. "Boyd is in a lot of pain. Could you help me with some money for some pain medication?"

"Pain medication?" I was surprised. "Once a fracture is set, there should be no pain."

"The leg has not been set yet," his father replied.

What? Boyd lay there in the hospital for three days with a compound fracture, and no one had set it! I knew the orthopedic surgeon would not be in at night, so I waited until the morning and headed back to "hell" with several of my Malawian college students. We hunted the halls for an hour looking for the one orthopedic surgeon in the country and finally found him in an operating theater, teaching a class. He waved me in, and I told him about Boyd. He was unaware of the case and graciously told me to bring him.

We found Boyd, but none of the nurses could find a gurney to roll him to the operating room. So we picked up his bed, each taking a corner, and we carried him to the operating theater.

His leg had rotted. It took almost six months to heal. If there's a place in this world where people lie for days with gaping wounds—that's a place of hell on earth.

Bothered
I'll be honest. I write all of this with the intention of bothering you. I hope you will no longer be willing to ignore people who hurt.

Oppression, injustice, poverty, bigotry and abuse are real and present. But it doesn't have to be this way. God put you and me here to make this world a better place, a more beautiful place. When Jesus left, He asked that you and I continue to change and love the world. The mission and purpose of the local church was never intended to end at the edge of our community.

King Solomon writes about the heart of God: "Rescue the perishing; don't hesitate to step in and help. If you say, 'Hey, that's none of my business,' will that get you off the hook? Someone is watching you closely, you know–Someone not impressed with weak excuses."

So whatever the cost, go in the name of Jesus and love people who hurt. Tell them and show them that God has a better way, a more beautiful war, a life-giving way.

Conflict
Educators have discovered an interesting phenomenon: We learn best and comprehend more when our minds are disturbed. In other words, the more people are bothered by what they are being taught—because it is new or radically different and they disagree—then the more likely the information will change the way they think and live. The process of wrestling with difficult concepts makes them better thinkers and ultimately deeper people. The process even has a name—cognitive conflict (or disequilibration).

Jesus was brilliant at this. He masterfully used parables or illustrations to disturb those He taught.

Being disturbed is not just a good way to learn—it's necessary for transformation.

Jesus would always propose equilibration to people’s thinking by offering a better way to live, a more beautiful way to live, a more godly way to live. But He let them choose.

Diamonds
Spiritual transformation often happens in the moments of life that stun us. When we experience, watch or hear of something disturbing, it creates this cognitive conflict that can change the way we think and live.

You may already know how diamonds are formed. Carbon, which is just black dirt, is compressed by millions of pounds of pressure by the earth's weight. This extreme pressure and heat from the earth's core transform the carbon into something pure and beautiful. The greater the heat and pressure, the more pure (or clear) the diamond forms.

In much the same way, I'm convinced we are transformed through moments of spiritual conflict. Under the pressure of going globally and giving our lives away, we open ourselves to the possibility of God crafting something beautiful in our souls. He uses the pressure of the experience and the heat of the moment—sometimes literally—to transform us spiritually and make our lives a bit more beautiful.

We have two options. We can choose to stay and ignore. Or we can choose to go and see and be disturbed. One choice leads to a kind of death; the other leads to life and change and hope.

If you'd like to read more of Chip's blog, in which he writes much about missions and other spiritual matters, here's the link: http://chiphuber.blogspot.com/

A jeopardizing library trip

Today I had a lovely morning and afternoon of sleeping in, going for a run, drinking coffee, and reading Life of Pi and making Spanish flashcards outside. Where I live, Jeopardy is on at 3:30 in the afternoon. I love Jeopardy and try not to miss it whenever I'm home. I came inside at 2:40 and had two options: either continue working on my Spanish flashcards go to the library. I figured I'd have enough time to go to the library before Jeopardy; after all, it's just down the road. I changed and left within ten minutes.

On my weekly trip to the library, I like to get a few movies and an occasional book. Since I'm rereading LOP right now, though, I only needed movies. Typically I choose one in Spanish, one drama, one comedy, and another from one of those sections. I found a couple Spanish films quickly, grabbed a random Johnny Depp movie as my drama, and ventured over to the comedies. Now there is a plethora of variations among comedies. There are romantic comedies, cheesy cliché comedies, dark comedies, satires, slapstick comedies, intentionally stupid comedies, unintentionally stupid comedies, vulgar comedies, and comedies that are really not even funny. I avoid most of these. Somehow, though, the comedy genre still produces pretty great movies. Without comedies, we would be lacking the touching humor of Dan in Real Life, the wittiness of Stranger than Fiction, the ridiculousness of The Princess Bride, and others like Night at the Museum, My Fair Lady, You've Got Mail, Up, Shrek, other Disney movies, PS I Love You, The Darjeeling Limited, Juno, Hitch, and many others. Today, somehow, nothing seemed appealing. I scanned all the titles, first from T to Z, then L to S, then backwards from K to A. Nothing. I finally settled on Big Fish just because it's Tim Burton.

In the middle of my hunt, I had utilized the library computer for the online catalog system. I didn't realize I had left my keys on the desk.

Just before I grudgingly selected Big Fish, I had checked the time--3:11. I had 19 minutes until Jeopardy. No problem. After making my last movie decision, I wandered over to the self-checkout. I have no idea why anyone would wait in line when they could use the self-checkout. For some reason, today there were lines in both places. After waiting, I scanned my card…and it couldn’t find my account information. I tried again. Success! I checked out one item. Good. I put the second item over the sensor. After a long delay, rather than continuing with my transaction, it printed my receipt. Bewildered, I gave it a quizzical look, scanned my card a second time, checked out one more item without issues, then it did the same thing again, so I switched to a different computer. The same thing happened. Frustrated, I separated my three already checked-out items and their three individual receipts from the couple other ones and awkwardly carried them to the regular check-out line. There were two ladies working. One was preoccupied with a family who was doing something long and complicated that involved both ends asking and answering an absurd number of questions. The other woman was in the process of checking out an enormous stack of children's books. I glanced at the clock on the side of the counter--3:20. The latter finished first, the mom and her three daughters walked away, and I proceeded. Before I made it to the counter, the alarm beeped, and the mom returned. She and her girls had three bags of books, so two of the daughters had to separately walk to the sensor and back to see whose books it was that set off the alarm. With children that are respectively about three and four years old, this is never a quick, simple task. Once they figured out whose bag it was, the contents had to be emptied on the counter and counted. 3:25. I'm normally not impatient about these kind of things, but this was Jeopardy that I was nearly missing.

Once it was my turn--for real this time--I explained to the lady what had happened, and she figured out the item giving me problems was none other than my Johnny Depp movie. Darn you, Johnny Depp. She checked out everything with only minor difficulties. While waiting, I realized I didn't have my car keys. As I frantically left to hunt for them, she called out, "Oh wait, did you know you have a CD on hold?" I had no idea, nor did I really care. I just wanted to watch Jeopardy. She made me check both sides of the reserve section, but my search was futile. As a last resort, she looked in the room behind the counters and found it, then had to check that out, too. Fortunately, I located and retrieved my keys quickly, as it wasn't the first time I had left them there. I drove home, making sure not to rush too much. Upon arriving at home, I discovered that Ethan had closed the garage door, forcing me to run around the house to get in.

And somehow, though it seems all forces were acting against me, I made it home in time for Jeopardy. 

Today's forecast

The weather is something typically discussed as the go-to subject in a desperate attempt to continue conversation or merely break awkward silence. Even the best of us fall subject to this. I catch myself mentioning the weather frequently, sometimes for this purpose, but more often because it's something I notice and either appreciate or abhor. Either way, I marvel at it. The frigid winds and abundance of snow of winter in western Michigan, the fresh scents and playfulness or torrentially depressing rains of spring, the scorching sun and suffocating stickiness of summer alongside the lake, or the crisp chilliness of autumn with an enhanced sound of rustling leaves in the winds due to their decay. On occasion, the world turns into a snow globe, a giant shower or sauna, or a desert. Perfect weather cannot be ascribed to specific conditions, but is subjectively based upon the individual--their preferences, circumstances, plans, and desires. For me, the weather was indeed perfect today.

It is supposedly 66* currently. I think it's warmer. Another thing about weather is it cannot be judged by the temperature. Factors such as humidity and the breeze alter the stated temperature considerably. I prefer to describe the weather by how it feels. Today, it's sunny with low humidity. It's warm enough to wear shorts and a t-shirt, but not hot enough to sweat profusely. A cool, light breeze ruffles the trees but isn't very evident when sitting still. That's the inexplicable wonder of the wind lately: when I move, it moves. When I'm still, it's still.

Thus far, I have loved today. I've spent a considerable portion of it outside, soaking up the much-needed vitamin D that is so lacking during the long winter months. Lately, I've been caught in quite the annoying situation. I have a substantial summer "to do" list that I'm excited to cross items off of, and I've been filled with ambition to accomplish some of this. Conversely, it's summer. I have little motivation to do anything. Usually, this results in me attempting productivity but achieving nothing, thereby crushing my aspirations while gaining little rest. Little else but frustration follows. Today, I decided to abandon productivity and just pursue relaxation and enjoyment.

The experience was delightful. I spent a few hours outside, first reading Psalms and Romans, then beginning to reread Life of Pi. I forgot how amazing that book is…more on that later. I wasn't quite as focused as I would've liked, though, due to the movement of the sun combined with the many trees in my backyard. If I want to stay in the sun, it forces me to migrate every few minutes as the shadows shift. I start first on the deck, then eventually move to the ground near the deck, then to the edge of the yard. It's a huge inconvenience. Once, I was driven inside by a shockingly large bee that took a particular liking to my face. Later, I took Winston for a walk, during which he stubbornly and persistently insisted upon thoroughly sniffing and showering every single tree we passed, as if some other dog has just marked it as his territory and it was Winston's noble duty to investigate and reclaim it.

My day concluded with a game of Scrabble at Starbucks, a Skype video chat with Jessie and friends, a terrible game of basketball with my dad and brother, a little more Life of Pi, some writing, and quite possibly a movie now. Overall, I'd say it was highly satisfying. I like it. 

Accidental witness

Today, I had to go get a drug test to be rehired for one of my jobs. It was annoying, but not a big deal. When leaving, I debated over which way to take to my next destination, the library. Option A: The more direct but more busy street with lots of lights that I avoid at all costs, or Option B, the indirect but slightly less busy street that I prefer. I had good music, the weather was nice, I wasn't in a hurry, and I was feeling patient, so I chose A.

I was driving along, one hand on the steering wheel and the other next to me, happily bobbing my head to M.I.A. from the Slumdog Millionaire soundtrack, when a Jeep coming from the opposite direction made a left turn in front of me. He was completely justified in doing so--this affected neither me nor anyone coming from my direction. From the road he was turning onto, though, a black Suburban raced down at probably about 40 mph--fast for a commercial/residential street--and rapidly approached him. After seeing the Jeep pass in front of me, I did a double take as I saw what was coming. "She sees him, she's won't hit him...Oh shoot, she's gonna hit him."

The front corners of the two vehicles collided, the second sending the first spinning, its back end smashing into a concrete barrier, until the front finally hit another cement wall that prevented it from moving further. The driver's seat flew backward, and the man sitting in it wore a look of sheer terror as he spun in circles. About halfway between the initial impact and the halting collision into the wall, his eyes closed, and he looked almost peaceful. The other car swerved around the corner and stopped.

The next few moments consisted of a flurry of pulling over, jumping out of my car, checking on everyone, and calling the police. Everyone was alive and nearly unscathed, but really shaken up. Four terrified children were crammed into the back seat of the Suburban, with another young teenage girl in front with the driver, whom I assume was their mother. I stuck around until the police and firemen came, gave them my contact information, described what I saw, answered several questions, and went on my way.

It scared me, but that doesn't matter. I can't help but wonder how it affected the drivers and their families. Is this going to change how they view life, knowing that catastrophes can happen so unexpectedly? Where were they going? What was going through their minds at the time? Will they be more astute drivers? Do they have the money to repair their cars and pay for the ticket? Do they have insurance? Especially the lady with the five kids in the car...though she was going much faster than she should've been, I'm concerned about what's going to happen to that family.

It's so crazy how an incident at a small intersection, so minor in the grand scheme of the world, can dramatically change someone's life.