Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Biking Upwind

While Thomas is putting on a fashion show for me, asking me whether he has worn things or not, to which I, a typical guy who notices nothing, must respond, "I have no idea, Thomas," I am writing this post.  And I must say, I think Rob's little note at the end of last post is quite hilarious and I'm glad he did not simply write what I had said, which was a plain, "Thank you to Rob for typing this up while having it dictated to him."  Laughter is most appreciated.

Today was another scorcher.  At the end of the day I was riding through 90+ degree heat, plus ridiculous humidity, plus 10-25 mph wind.  Except for a few short roads, the wind was always either right in my face or a crosswind, or something in between.  For anyone who has biked through such wind, or for anyone who has a good grasp on physics, you know how much such wind would slow me down or how must energy it would take out of me.  Most of the day I chose to slow down instead of keeping pace and feeling really tired later, especially when I was on US-20 and the massive trucks speeding by only made the wind worse.  After six hours of biking and taking long rests, we finally made it here to Perrysburg, Ohio (just south of Toledo.  We are staying with yet another most gracious host, the sister of my good friend from seminary, Laura Bensman.  Thank you to Laura and Rich Bensman for helping coordinate this, and for Jenny and Brandon for hosting us).

But because of the wind and the scorching sun, I spent a good long while today cursing the wind gods and the sun gods and the road gods and every other god that might have played a role in making today a rough day for riding.  I also managed to have some time in between curses to think about what I wrote yesterday and the comment that was posted.

I am a 23 year-old idealistic male, the things that I think and believe and say are going to be passionate and inciting.  In fact, that is what I'm good at: saying and doing things that create a strong emotional response in people.  My philosophical and ideological "heroes," namely Kierkegaard, Wilberforce, Cato, and Dorothy Day, all mastered the art of making people very, very angry.  With good reason, I might add (although in the case of Kierkegaard he was fairly arrogant).  Here's what I think: the reason there are so many things wrong in our world, and always have been, is because we are convinced we are doing things right and don't want to hear anything that contradicts it, so if we do hear a contradictory opinion we get fed up and miss the point entirely.

It was not my intention to upset anyone, though I knew full well while writing (or dictating, I should say) yesterday's post that I would upset a few folk.  I love the soldiers very much, and I love my own family members and friends who currently serve in the military even more.  And is it honorable to make sacrifices and risk your life for others?  Absolutely!  I admit, I am a coward and would and could never do what millions upon millions of soldiers have done throughout history.  What they do is beyond me and I would never think about demeaning their actions.

All I'm getting at here is that we are biking upwind.  We have been trained to think that the military and war are necessary for our peace and security.  Most of us have been trained so well that we can't even imagine that love actually works.  We have been trained to believe that what the soldiers do is inherently good.  Forget the fact that I believe all violence is wrong and unnecessary, I still remain it believes true that honoring soldiers diverts our attention from the real issues.  But the wind we are biking against is so strong that we don't even realize what's happening in our minds.  Honor the soldiers because they keep us safe from external threats and we miss the fact that the biggest threats to our safety are internal.

I think most people would agree that there are plenty of things wrong with this country.  But there are plenty of things wrong with this country for the same reason that there are plenty of things wrong with any country.  What the soldiers do is incredible, yes, and I am constantly amazed and constantly depressed that so many brilliant people are killed-in-action or put to risk in combat, but I still believe that nothing any soldier has ever done, nothing that this country or any other has ever done, has actually made the world a better place.  National and military pride tell us differently (and trust me, the fact that I can say these things without being put to death is not lost on me), but the fact remains that there are now more slaves in the world today, at this very moment, than the total amount of slaves ever owned or traded pre-1865.  Ultimately, the Civil War and the Wilberforce campaign failed.  Failed.  Martin Luther King, Jr.  Failed (in some respects).

We are biking upwind.  We need to reorient our minds and our hearts to freedom.  Honor and love the soldiers, yes, but they cannot nor should not be the end of the story or the only story.  Whatever we believe, folks, the military and the soldiers should not be put up on a pedestal above everyone else that fights for freedom.  And when we put them up on a pedestal and honor the country and such, we act as if that's all we need to do--the soldiers and our government will do the freedom fighting.  That's what I'm getting at.  There is so much more freedom fighting to do than the government and the soldiers can or will ever do.  We need to take up the fight.  We can't simply honor other things and think we've done our job.  We need to risk our lives and our social status in the most radical of ways to truly achieve freedom.  We need to go to war, not in the typical sense but against the world in just about every way possible.

We are biking upwind.  All of our minds need to be re-adjusted and that is a serious task.  We cannot any longer give the task over to others.  Giving money is great, supporting with encouraging words or spreading the word is great, but that's not enough.  We need to adjust our minds and hearts to action, to act for freedom.  We need to take up the fight, get our hands dirty, risk everything if necessary, to really and truly fight for freedom.  Honoring the soldiers simply is not enough.  We need to honor ALL the freedom fighters like Lord Wilberforce.  And we need to become "soldiers" ourselves, every one of us, to end the most cruel and widespread attack against the freedom that we claim to have.  We're biking upwind, but we can do it.  We just need to take it on.

(Again, this post, while an attempt at clarification and reflection, might still seem inflammatory or offensive.  One last time I will say that it's not meant to be.  In fact, I can almost guarantee that if you are offended by these last two posts that I probably agree on most everything with you and it is simply the way that I write and the attitudes that I bring toward life that upset you.  So take issue with me as a person, not with what I'm saying)

Monday, May 30, 2011

Is it Memorial Day?

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           Thomas and I have been really bad at remembering the date and the day of the week.  The only reason I remembered that today is Memorial Day is because the Indianapolis 500 was on yesterday.  I probably could have figured it out though since everyone and their mother is out riding their bicycles today, despite the humidity.  Today was not the warmest day but definitely the worst because of the humidity. 
            On to more important things: I believe that all Christians should be pacifists, and anarchists, so Memorial Day is a difficult holiday for me.  Often times I think that people care more about their country than the people that live in it or the opportunities it affords.  The fact that the United States was established by the people and for the people seems to be lost in aiming for honor and our own personal security.  Loving soldiers as human beings is one thing, but putting them up on a pedestal and thinking that they are some how necessary is quite another. 
            Once again our priorities are mixed up.  Why do we lift up soldiers and those who have died in combat above all else?  I have no answer.  So I refuse to be brainwashed by this country or any other and instead choose to remember the people who have really gotten me here: my parents, my brother, all my Lucy and Lopez relatives; and the many abolitionists who have risked their lives and social status in the noblest of causes. 
            Why do we celebrate Memorial Day and Veteran’s Day and Independence Day and the soldiers anyway?  Because we are free people?  Because we are allowed to live the way we want to live?  Well, you see, no matter how hard our soldiers fight, no matter how many engagements they enter into, no matter how many celebrations we have about the United States of America, there are still 27 Million People who are not free and can not even imagine how they might live if they were free.  So today I am celebrating William Wilberforce, Frederick Douglass, William Lloyd Garrison, Harriet Tubman, Thomas Clarkson, and many other abolitionist who have worked tirelessly to return to all people the inalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. 
            So let us together remember all the people who have given their lives to actually make people free.  And let us continue to remember all the people that are still without freedom.  We do them a great disservice when we celebrate the great achievements of this country as if there were nothing more to be done, because the freedom that we claim to possess is not yet realized until we no longer enslave any person in this country or any other.  That means 27 Million more achievements that lie before us. 

            (Thanks to Rob, who is right now, at this moment, writing out this message in Washington D.C. while John is dictating it to him over the phone, enveloped by the daunting humidity of Bellevue, Ohio. J)

Sunday, May 29, 2011

Can't Handle the Pressure

Thomas and I went bowling today, and we soon found out that I can't handle pressure well.  Once I started thinking that I can do well or have a chance to win, I screw up royally.  Of course, neither of us bowl regularly so my inconsistency is understandable.  At the same time, though, I admire people who can remain calm under pressure.

I know that the only time I've ever performed well under pressure was when I played hockey: I always seemed to play better on bigger stages and at the most crucial moments.  Maybe it's because I had confidence in my skill as a hockey player.  I knew that I could score four goals in the final period to get my team to win in a playoff game; I knew that I could shutout the top-ranked team in the country when I played goalie; I knew I could score from behind the net or anywhere almost any time I wanted to; and I knew that the other team would rarely score when I was on the rink.  Perhaps the reason is that when I played hockey I stopped thinking, everything was reaction and instinct.  The second I started to think or to try to focus I'd be average.  So, if ever I think at anything I can't handle the pressure.

Ok, honestly, I did want to brag a little bit right there.  But really I want to draw a distinction between me and Thomas.  The other day we played chess.  While I can play a much tougher computer opponent, and started each match against Thomas very well, he won two out of three because I couldn't finish.  Today we played bowling and he destroyed me because he was far more consistent and not scared of pressure.  And last night he played a game that required lots of thinking in a short period of time and it was if he didn't even care that the clock was ticking down on him.  I am constantly impressed with Thomas's ability to consistently show up and produce, no matter what the pressure may be.

I want to take this opportunity, then, to say that Thomas is my model in life.  He has taken the great responsibility of taking care of all of my money, making sure I'm safe, making sure my equipment is working properly, making sure I get to my next destination with as few miles and hills as possible, and arranging his life for the next two months around my schedule and needs.  I think ordinary people wouldn't tackle this responsibility, with no payment, with such efficiency and calmness.  Even when things have gone wrong, and plenty of things have gone wrong already, "freak out" is not a part of Thomas's vocabulary.  He just calmly figures out the next best thing to do.  And every night I find Thomas working hard on the directions for the next day, painstakingly worrying about what would be best for me and my baby, Cato.

All I can say is that I wish all of us could calmly, consistently, and efficiently take on the thankless responsibilities and tasks that make the world better.  What makes Thomas so great, too, is that he then gives me all the credit for the miles we've biked no matter how hard I try to correct him; and he does great things while making it seem as if he's not doing anything worth talking about.  So sometimes I am surprised when Thomas says or does admirable things: not because he's not a good person, but because he acts as if he's not doing anything out of the ordinary.  His ability to handle pressure and responsibility blows my mind and every day inspires me to ride harder (or on rest days like today, to take much better care of myself) to equal the effortless effort that he puts in.

I don't know how he does it, but if all the world were like him, we'd all be much better off.  Most importantly, no one would brag or show off or, like me, make a point of anything when we do good things.  We would all... just do it, as Nike would say.  If only we would all just do the right thing because of who we are without needing to make a point about it.  I look forward to that day.  So I will continue to follow Thomas's lead.

Saturday, May 28, 2011

Bruins are Going to the Stanley Cup Finals!!!!

I'm not going to lie, the best thing about today is knowing that my beloved Boston Bruins are going to the Stanley Cup Finals.  In my lifetime Boston sports have been rather fantastic: the Red Sox ended their long World Series drought, twice; the Celtics have been fairly dominant for the second half of my life; the Patriots have been arguably the best team in the last decade; Boston University and Boston College have both notched NCAA hockey championships; and even the Boston lacrosse team (the Cannons) has been pretty darn good.  All the while the Boston Bruins have not been bad either, but they have been the one team that as of yet has failed to break through.  No matter how often I say, "It's ok, they're a young team, they'll be better next year," it has still been a frustratingly long five or six seasons.  Of course, the Bruins haven't won yet, but I am already elated because they are back in the spotlight where they belong.

Today was another short day by Thomas's standards.  A little over 40 miles from Akron to Lakewood (a suburb just to the west of Cleveland, on the lake wouldn't ya know).  Perhaps it was the fact that the Bruins won combined with knowing that I have a rest day tomorrow that pumped a little extra blood into my legs to help me ride quite a bit faster than I have been.  Whatever it was, I was riding at speeds that really made me feel good so my joy over the Bruins was only heightened.

The next question is, "How appropriate is it to spend three hours on a bike thinking about the Bruins when you're supposed to be thinking about the 27 million slaves?"  First of all, I'd like to comment that based on my mother's calculations, we are ten days in and have pedaled approximately 2 million revolutions, or something, I forget what she said.  More to the point, I'm read the book, Good News About Injustice: A Witness of Courage in a Hurting World, by Gary A. Hauden, while I ride.  I'm using the book sort of as a foundation for my reflection.  There are a lot of good things in it that I've read so far, but I'm only going to use the book for the blog when we have a totally uneventful day, when I have no other thoughts or reflections, or when it's perfectly relevant.

Now is one of those times that something I read in the book is perfectly relevant.  I will quote part of what Mr. Haugen wrote in chapter 2, "Preparing the Mind and Spirit Through Scripture,":

"[Young babies] have not yet developed the mental capacity for object permanence, that is, the understanding that objects exist even when they are out of sight.  It is truly a case of out of sight, out of mind.

I must confess that this is very much the way my mind often works when it comes to maintaining an interest in the reality of injustice in our world.  I read about innocent people being slaughtered in the Congo on page A1 of the Washington Post, and I am appalled.  But my mind moves on to other things with amazing speed and thoroughness when I read on page D15 that the movie my wife and I were hoping to see actually starts a half hour earlier than we thought.  When I read about the way abandoned orphan girls in China are tied to their bed rails and left to starve and die in state-run orphanages, I am very nearly moved to tears.  But a year later when a conversation with a friend reminds me of the article, I realize that I have not shed a tear, uttered a prayer or even given it thought since the day I put down that newspaper article.  I can move from torture on the evening news to touchdowns on Monday Night Football with almost the same mental and emotional ease as my channel changer....

Christians, of course, are meant to be particularly gifted in sustaining a commitment to what is true and important though unseen....

Admittedly, this calling strikes me as burdensome.  On any given day I am so busy trying to order the stress and vulnerability out of my own life that the notion of remembering a child prostitute in India, a torture victim in Indonesia or a child laborer in Honduras seems beyond the core of my Christian calling.  But what is the core of my Christian calling?  Every Christian who knows his or her Bible has a ready answer: to love God and to love our neighbor as ourselves... Accordingly, the call to remember the oppressed is couched in the logic of love... Surely it is God's job to remember all the victims of injustice in our world, but might there not be one child, one prisoner, one widow, one refugee that I can remember?"

My hunch is that I am not the only one who can relate to feeling guilty about celebrating a Bruins win and forgetting what our mission or purpose to our oppressed brothers and sisters is or not putting into action our outrage from reading or watching the news.  Haugen touches on something we all know very well and experience every day.  We think to ourselves how awful the various and widespread injustices in the world are and oftentimes think that we or someone should do something about it... and then nothing happens.

It's ok.  It really is.  We have lives that we need to live and it would be entirely unhealthy if all we did were think about all the problems needing solving.  I'm continually amazed at people who can work for more than three hours straight without taking a break.  Life is not very enjoyable if all we do is work.  We need breaks.  In fact, I'd even argue that the breaks of life are the reason why we live, all this working stuff just gets in the way.  So go ahead, celebrate the Bruins first trip to the Stanley Cup finals in thirty years (if you're a Bruins fan, of course... if you're not a Bruins fan, then, you should be).  Enjoy it, revel in it even.

But let's keep our priorities straight, yeah?  I can celebrate the Bruins, but it would be irresponsible and unloving of me if cheering for the Bruins gets in the way of loving others.  Love should always be our first priority.  Life doesn't need to be about loving others all the time, but it does need to be our first priority at all times.  Nothing should get in the way of our loving.  We need not feel guilty about not doing more as long as we live our lives in the attitude of love.  So let's be always in the attitude of love for the sake of the 27 million slaves that need our love, and for whom Thomas and I are speeding towards 27 million revolutions.

New Skin

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(Many thanks to Maggie Ulmer for posting this blog for me while I experience some technical difficulties)

Thomas and I arrived here in Akron at a Motel 6, and after taking a shower and getting comfortable and such, I turned on the TV and found the painter guy, Bob Ross.  That made me instantly happy.  But now Thomas is making me stare at his knee, which continues to heal, but it is so deep I can’t look at it for very long.  And we’ve realized we can’t plug in our Nintendo 64, which is a big bummer.  It’s all right, though, he should probably read a book or something.

I woke up this morning thinking about Thomas’s knee.  Yesterday he and I talked about how fascinating the human body is that even with a cut that deep his body will heal, keep the wound clean, and then form new skin over it.  It was one of those moments where most people probably would have called us nerds.  Seriously, though, how amazing is that?  His body will divert white blood cells to protect the wound, then retrieve the DNA necessary to create new skin, then send in stem cells to actually create the new skin.  Unbelievable.  Also unbelievable that it requires an act of healing for us to marvel at God’s creation… or, if we don’t believe in God, in the genius of nature. 

So, while I do not think that I’ve been perfectly healed of everything in a few days time, the comments I have received from you all on this blog and reflecting on Thomas’s physical healing process, I can take strength in knowing that I am in the middle of a mysterious and amazing healing process.  Thank you to all of you who have helped me take confidence and strength in myself even in this time of journeying through the desert.  In the spirit of healing, I’m going to chronicle as best as I can some of the funny stories and conversations from today.  Before I do that, though, I ask that you think about how incredible and inspiring the stories of healing could be if we rescue the many slaves in the world and let them teach us what real healing looks like. 

First of all, Thomas and I are getting the weirdest tan lines.  Thomas’s aren’t too bad, but because I wear gloves and riding gear while riding, I am dark brown now but only from the knee to my ankle, and from just above my elbow to my wrist.  Sacrifice, Thomas says, great sacrifices.

Today was a short day, according to Thomas, just above forty miles, but we had to move fast because storms were coming in.  I got slightly showered on for a few minutes, but it felt good.  When it appeared that we had beaten the storms we stopped for lunch.  I decided I wanted to eat at a place called “Linda’s Kitchen,” but apparently it was only a bakery.  So then we went into a place that serves pizza but was a chicken and fish restaurant, that had no place to sit and eat I might add.  Here’s the conversation we had with the person behind the counter:

Thomas: “So umm, what do you have?”
Counter-Person: “Well, we have pizza, but we’re really known for our chicken and fish.  We have lots of chicken and fish dishes, as you can see.  I really recommend a drumstick, chicken or fish.  But a lot of people order a bowl of chicken.”
Me: “Ok, we’ll have a pizza.”
Counter-Person: “Oh, ok.  What do you want on it?”
Thomas: “What can we get?”
Counter-Person: “Anything you want, really.  We can put our freshly made and famous chicken or fish on it, if you want.”
Me: “Ok, then, we’ll have sausage.”

Twenty minutes later when we open the pizza box, there was cheese dripping over one edge like a river or waterfall or something:

Thomas: “John, were you holding this sideways or something?”
Me: “No, I’m pretty sure I held it like a normal person would.”
Thomas: “Ok, well, it’s friggin cascading everywhere.  Yeah, I said it, it’s cascading.  Seriously, where does the pizza end and the box begin?  Who knows, because it’s a CASCADE!”
Me: “Hahahahahahahaha!”
Thomas: “Oh my god, I don’t even know what to do.”
Me: “Hahahahahaha!”
Thomas: “Seriously, we’re never getting a pizza from a chicken and fish place that has no seating.  Oh my god.”
Me: “Hahahahahaha!”

Various things that were said over our radios while riding:

Thomas: “In 0.4 miles, turn right onto (radio fuzz).”
Me: “What was that?”
Thomas: “Unicorns.  I love them.  They’re pretty.”

Near the end of the ride, when we were already in Akron and a new storm was coming in, some other hilarious things happened that I think will be appropriately captured in the radio conversation:

Thomas: “Ok, buddy, you’ll be on Market Street for 6.2 miles, then we’ll take a left and we’ll be done.”
Me: “Right-o, chief.”
Thomas: “Oh, umm, nevermind.  There’s rumble construction down here, I don’t want you on it.  I’ll turn around and cut you off before you get down here… oh you’re already here.  Stop, turn, slow down, do something, turn left here.”
A little while later.
Thomas: “Ok, take a right.  Then go straight.  Yeah, keep going straight… Oh, nevermind.  This road is randomly closed.  Take another right.”
A little bit later, after what feels like 6 miles, we turn back onto Market Street.
Thomas: “Is the road ok?”
Me: “It looks good.”
0.3 miles later, more rumble construction, I hang my head and start shaking it.
Thomas: “Woops.”

Also, Thomas and I found a really old penny in a parking lot.  That was cool.  I’m just typing up these stories as I go here.  While we were on one of many detours, these two conversations happened:

Thomas: “Ok, you should take your next right.”
Me: “Yeah, what do I do next?”
Thomas: “I just told you, take your next right.”
Me: “I already did that.”
Thomas: “Are you sure?  I have no idea where you are then.”
Me: “I took the right where you are parked, I cut through the parking lot.  I already passed you.”
Thomas: “Oh my god, you a**hole.”
Me: “Did I do the right thing?  Is it illegal for a biker to cut through a parking lot, too?”

Conversation 2:
Thoas: “Ok, take a left.”
Me: “Ok, chief.”
After a few minutes flying down a hill.
Me: “Thomas, I’m coming up to an intersection.  What do I do next?.... Thomas?... Thomas?.... Umm, ok, I’m on Eastwood, is that right?”
Thomas (finally): “If I had wanted you to turn, I would have friggin told you to turn.”
Hours later at Motel 6.
Thomas: “I thought it was pretty funny when you were asking me questions about what to do next and I wasn’t responding because I was talking to my girlfriend.”
Me: “Unbelievable.”

Those are all the stories from today.  I’ll add one more thing.  When I woke up thinking about Thomas’s knee and new skin, I thought of a song by the band Guano Apes.  I thought that it was called, “New Skin.”  But then I realized it was called “No Skin.”  But then I realized it was called “No Speech.”  Anyway, since I had Guano Apes on my mind, I figure I’ll leave lyrics from one of their best songs with you.  This is from their song, “Open Your Eyes.”  The band aren’t native English speakers, so I’ve cut out the verses that don’t make a lot of sense. 

“Hide your face forever
Dream and search forever
Have you ever been for sale?
When your isms get smart
Don’t split your mentality,
Without thinking twice
Your voice has got no reason.
Now is the time to face your lies

(chorus) Open your eyes, open your mind
Proud like a god don’t pretend to be blind
Trapped in yourself, break out instead
Beat the machine that works in your head

Do you think that you are better?
Really better than the rest?
Realize there’s a problem
I know that you can give your best

Have you ever had a dream?
Or is life just a trip?
A trip without chances
A chance to grow up quick”


Thursday, May 26, 2011

With a Little Help From My Friends

Here we are in North Jackson, Ohio, just northwest of Poland/Boardman.  We are staying with another family, the Clarks, the parent-in-laws of a good friend of mine at Wesley Seminary.  First of all, the fact that parent-in-laws of a friend would be willing to host us, the night after people we don't even know hosted us graciously for two days, is extremely amazing to me.  Truly amazing.

Today has been a day full of support.  I can't help but think that God is trying to tell me that the emotional and spiritual lows that I've been experiencing are somewhat unwarranted.  People are out there who care and are willing to put in the effort to support me and everything this trip stands for.  I'm still dealing with questions and doubts, particularly in my personal life, but I feel a little rejuvenated, even after a 80-mile and very humid day full of adventures.

The Mudraks sent us off this morning, telling us to be careful of storms that were coming in this afternoon (I will be posting a picture of our most excellent hosts soon), which we are thankful for because we just barely beat them out.  Not long after leaving the house I noticed that some of my gears felt funny; the chain felt loose and was wobbling out of control.  Thomas and I decided to wait until we reached our next destination to give it a full look-over because I could still use all of my lower gears and some others without much trouble.  About five or ten miles later, however, the rear shifter totally fell apart and almost ruined the chain.  Almost immediately Thomas realized that a part had broken off the shifter and it was unusable, so he started getting out his bike while I Thomas my emergency contacts in the outside world.  I didn't know that Thomas planned to ride his bike while I made the call, but it didn't matter what I realized because he was ready to go.  He was supposed to ride part of the day anyway because we've come to terms with the fact that I just can't do some bridges due to my fear of heights.  But now he had taken it upon himself to ride an extra thirty or so miles while I worked everything out.

Thank God for Maggie and Rob Ulmer, my emergency contacts, back-up blog writers, and surrogate family from Wesley Seminary.  When I called they were both right on top of getting me the information for bike shops and telling me that they were praying for me based on what I wrote about yesterday and for the trip in general, and within minutes I was talking to bike shops to see if they had the parts that I needed.  I won't ever be able to thank Rob and Maggie enough, they're like my lifeline on Who Wants to be a Millionaire, always prepared to help out with whatever I need.  I don't know how they do it, but they're great people.

And then the people at the bike shop were incredibly nice.  Thomas and I are going to write a review of both bike shops that have helped us out in the near future (probably tomorrow) and then post them here.  After Thomas had biked over the bridges, we traded places and Thomas rushed on ahead to get the bike fixed.  Not two hours later my darling Cato was as good as new.  The bike shop gave us the part for free and installed the part for free, with no wait at all.  So I was able to ride Cato for the last couple of hours of the day and it was glorious.

Then, of course, the Clarks are another gracious host, willing to open their house to us despite the fact that we know each through the friend of a friend, basically.

From the Mudraks, to Thomas, to the Ulmers, to the bike shop peeps, to the Clarks, we have had nothing but lots of support today.  And boy did we need it.  Because of all the people I've named, we were able to deal with a broken bike and terrifying storms (wind is nice, but when it becomes really windy and such before the hitting of a storm, it really slows me down and I don't like it!) without losing much time at all.  We had planned on a 9-4 day... and we had a 9-4 day.

Thank you to everyone.  You will not be forgotten, especially not in my prayers.  And thank you to Becky Weamer for suggesting to stay with her parent-in-laws tonight.  Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011





































Crying Out for Momma

First of all, Thomas is ok.  A number of people have expressed concern, which shows me that you are reading so I'm happy.  Thomas told me that I shouldn't have made the crash sound so bad, but I was just trying to be honest (and grab your attention!).  In the end, though, he is doing fine, he walked quite a bit today and his knee and hand seem to be on the mend.  Also, Cato is once again in good riding shape and will be ready to go tomorrow morning.

Thomas walked a lot today because we went to a park.  The park was rather large and since it was my off-day, I eventually gave up on walking and just sat down in the grass somewhere while Thomas kept walking to check things out.  As I was sitting there eating my lunch, a group of mentally challenged folk came to set up a picnic near where I was.  The group was made up of mostly older people, guided by some other people so my guess is that they came from a home for the mentally challenged.  Seeing older mentally challenged people always pains me because I can't imagine how hard it must be for them to live in situations where someone is always looking after you for their entire life.  They are always under surveillance and in many cases always in need of assistance.  It also pains me when I see the managers with clear expressions of frustration and exasperation on their face as they try to corral the people under their watch and get them to eat and behave and so on.  And it also pains me that part of God's supposedly good creation could live such seemingly fruitless and painful lives.

While thinking about how a God of love could allow any of this to happen, one of the group brought themselves to the ground and starting crying out for their mother.  The person was probably thirty years old, perhaps older, crying out for his mother and needing someone to reassure him that he'd see his mom again soon.

This went on for about five minutes and I was very close to crying.  I'm generally a very aloof person in the sense that I can witness the worst of life without feeling any emotional connection, but there was something about this man crying out for his mother that hit me hard.  I soon realized that my heart was too unstable to witness the man crying without wanting to myself.

Not only have I had hours and hours every day while on the bike to reflect on the beaten nature of slaves, to the point that I'm sure they are crying out for their mothers at all times, but I, too, am beaten.  Certainly, I can't think about the 27 million slaves in the world and not feel some serious sorrow and distress.  But that distress motivates me to work hard to make others aware and, while on this trip, to keep pedaling even when I think that I can't continue.  More importantly, though, a trip like this simply takes a toll on one's mental and spiritual states.  The problem is, I left feeling broken, and I have only become more and more broken with each passing day.

Really, I'm asking for prayers.  I feel like the people closest to me, or that I thought were closest to me, don't really care about me or this trip (no, mother, I'm not talking about you).  Unfortunately that's like a triple affront to me: not caring for me, not caring for me on this trip, and not caring for this trip and therefore the 27 million slaves.  I keep asking myself, "Is it really that hard for someone that claims to care, that claims to be interested, to take five or ten minutes out of their day to read this blog?  Is it really that hard to donate five or ten dollars?"  The more I ask myself these questions, and the more the answer seems to be that it is too difficult for some people, the angrier and the more broken I become.  I feel like Jesus must have.  Jesus lived with the disciples for three years (or maybe one, depending on which gospel you read), but the people that seemed to best understand and to most believe and to put the most effort and time into their faith and to actually care the most are the random people that Jesus talks to and the Roman soldiers.  How ironic.  Now what had previously been only an academic knowledge of that irony is becoming extremely personal.

Last night, our host family, the Mudraks, hosted a young adult group over for dinner from the Hot Metal Bridge church.  They were all great people and I wish that we had thought about getting a picture with all of them, and Thomas and I had a great time (thank you to all of you who were gracious enough to welcome us to your group!  You were truly wonderful!).  We talked a lot, played a game, and then we all prayed together.  And though we were strangers, most of the prayer was focused on our trip and our purpose on this trip.  I shouldn't have been surprised, though.  All night long everyone was very interested in what we are doing, asking us a ton of questions about Polaris Project, the trip itself, the training that went into it, some of the stories that we had, and some mixed laughing/concern over Thomas's recent injury.

If only the people closest to me were like that as well.  Again, our parents and Thomas's girlfriend have all been great, and my closest relatives have been more than gracious in their donations to the Polaris Project, but I have gone well beyond disappointment and we're only a week into the trip.  I wish the trip had some better timing because I was already struggling with my faith, whether I believe in God and how I want to move forward with God, and with how I want to move forward socially with a bunch of people that only appear to have a surface interest or care about me and the massive issue this world has with slavery.

So, I am currently crying out for my momma.  Pray for me, will you?  Pray for all those whom I meet, that they may care and love others like the Hot Metal Bridge folk that we met last night.  And pray that my brokenness does not affect my willpower to pedal on, especially as we make our way through the hills of Pennsylvania and eastern Ohio the next couple of days.

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Photos

Ok, the Mudraks are about to feed us dinner.  I was about to upload all the photos, but my bike needed its entire front brake replaced so we took it to a shop.  That took out a lot of time.  But I will later tonight!

Generosity and Hospitality

The night before we left on this trip last week, Thomas, my parents and I sat down for dinner.  The waitress wasn't the best (but really, the restaurant itself was probably most at fault) and some jokes were being cracked at her expense when Thomas said, "Well, you never know what could be going on in her life.  She might be having a bad day for perfectly legitimate reasons."  Thomas is not religious nor spiritual, and at times he can seem immoral, so I was very proud of him when he made that comment because he was being very aware of other people.  In a nutshell, that is what I hope to be doing on this trip: being myself aware and making others aware of all the people around us.

What I mean by being aware of others is probably best defined as generosity and hospitality.  Giving everyone the benefit of the doubt, helping those around us in our daily life whether they ask for it or not, opening yourself up to others, welcoming others, and treating others like family; all of that is part of the loving combination of generosity and hospitality.  I wish that I had taken Dr. Oden's class on hospitality at Wesley Theological Seminary so that I would have more knowledgeable things to say, but hopefully you'll search out some of Dr. Amy Oden's writings to learn more about how to be hospitable to people in our daily lives.  I really can't stress enough how important it is to create the world that we all hope for.

Originally I was going to blog about how Wesley Seminary is such a great place: not only is it a great school with great professors like Dr. Oden, not only is it in a great location (Washington, D.C.), but if you are a cyclist it is in the perfect spot because wherever you go, you must go back up some massive hills to get back to the seminary so it has been a great place to train.  When I arrived here in Lebanon, PA (suburb of Pittsburgh), though, I instantly changed my mind.  LuAnn and Sam Mudrak are kind enough to open their house to Thomas and me for the next two days.  I got in contact with them through the religious community Hot Metal Bridge, whose pastors had recently taught a class at Wesley Seminary called The Urban Church, and they have been nothing but generous and hospitable.

The door to the Mudrak house was already open when we arrived, a sign of only the best things to come.  And they immediately made us feel at home.  Which is a good thing considering that on our way back from lunch, Thomas decided he wanted to get some exercise so he hopped on Cato (my bike).  Within a couple of minutes he was crashing into a curb on the side of the road.  My first reaction was, "How ironic, I've been riding Cato for a number of days now, and Thomas gets on him for such a short time before this happens."  Then I realized that the crash was actually really bad.  We were on a busy road so I didn't think I'd be able to get out of the car and help him, and he's a tough guy anyway so he insisted on walking to the next parking lot anyway.  Meeting up he showed me a completely torn apart knee and a hand that was pretty gashed up as well, along with a bike with twisted front brakes that would need some serious maintenance.

Whether or not I'll be able to continue this trip on my Cato (the only road bike that we have) is in question.  For tonight, though, no one cares about that so much as making sure that Thomas has all of us wounds taken care of and he doesn't get infected.  And no one has been more caring than the Mudrak's, our host family.  Not only have they opened up their house to us for a couple of days, but they have gone out of their way to care for Thomas.  We haven't known them for more than two hours and they are caring for our wounded driver without judging us or him at all.  I, for one, am extremely appreciative of their generosity and hospitality.

With all people we meet, we should possess the same spirit of generosity and hospitality.  Maybe then we'd be more aware of people in distress.  Maybe then we'd be more able and more willing to protect and rescue those in slavery.

Monday, May 23, 2011

27 Million Revolutions

Let me tell you a secret.  When I left on this trip on Thursday, I knew that I would not be able to pedal 27 million revolutions of the wheel over 54 days.  I knew that I needed help.  I knew that it would require some serious amount of teamwork.

The title of this blog is 27 Million Revolutions for 27 Million Slaves because, of course, there are 27 million slaves in the world, and I planned to pedal 27 million revolutions of the bike wheel on my bicycle across the country.  But there's a second reason as well.  To put an end to slavery we need to start millions of little revolutions everywhere: in our personal lives, in our churches, in our workplaces, in our political system, in our communities, in our families, and so on.  My riding is not some thing that one person is doing and you all can follow along.  My riding is a symbol of what one person can do if they start a revolution in their own life.

So here I am in Greensburg, PA, thinking about all the little revolutions that we can and must start to change the world, and I thank God for Thomas, my driver.  To me and all of us he is a symbol of what one person can do to inspire another person to join in and together, as a team, do much more.  Everyday now Thomas has driven up ahead of me, hopped on the trail, and ridden the back-up bike backwards until we meet one another and then we ride back together.  So he hasn't doubled the number of revolutions but he has significantly increased the total.  And today we ran into a heavy hail and rain storm while in the middle of nowhere Pennsylvania muddy backroads, and I didn't want to get lost, so Thomas, the ever-adventurous one, decided that he'd do the biking through the mud and the rain.  It just so happened that part of the ride included a massive increase in elevation.  I was certainly very proud of him.

Today was definitely a day of teamwork.  Thomas did the more adventurous mountain-bike type riding and I did the rest.  At one of the hills that I climbed up Thomas checked the GPS to see how high we were: 2,000 feet.  Another 2,000 foot elevation to check off.  Then I descended 800 of those feet in less than five minutes.  I couldn't have been happier.  Together we preserved our bodies, made each other feel comfortable, and encouraged each other as we pushed hard over the hills.

And together we can all start the 27 million revolutions necessary to end slavery.

Sunday, May 22, 2011

Uploading Photos

We ran into a new snafoo today.  Unfortunately we do not have the appropriate cables to plug in the camera to the computer, and therefore I cannot upload any photos.  In a couple of days we will have another rest day and will search for what we need.  Otherwise we'll search for other avenues to share the sights with you.  Don't want to make you wait two months to see pictures!

Only You Can Help Prevent Forest Fires

I remember those advertisements with Smoky the Bear teaching me as a kid that only I could help prevent forest fires.  Smoky the Bear was a pretty cool dude, I thought, so of course I'd want to help prevent forest fires.  I've always wondered if I'd care about the environment and such if I hadn't grown up with what I thought to be a terrific personality.  And so I wonder if we need attractive personalities to inspire us to do the right thing, to work hard to stop slavery.  It would be a sad world if that were the case. 

Fortunately, though, when I visited the Polaris Project headquarters the other day they provided me with a number of inspirational stories.  Just a few years ago there was a domestic slave being held in D.C. as a slave to a "high up" in the business and D.C. world.  The domestic slave was tricked into coming to work as a domestic slave because the family told her that they would pay her well, that they would send her kids to school, and all of her family would be well-provided for.  As is often the case, the promises made to her were quickly forgotten and she was not allowed out of the house.

Thank God there was a responsible citizen that lived next-door.  They noticed that there was a person living in the house that they only saw taking out the trash and at no other time.  So they made contact with the Polaris Project through the National Human Trafficking Hotline to report the issue.  Polaris Project then referred the case to the D.C. Task Force and the FBI.  The Task Force and FBI then worked with the neighbor and found out that the domestic slave was eventually allowed to attend church on Sunday, and were able to put a wire on the domestic slave to gain evidence.  The wire was able to pick up enough evidence that the FBI arrested the family owners, though they tried leaving the country with the domestic slave because they had started to notice that something was up, and rescued the slave.  The slave was then put into Polaris Project's transitional housing and is now moving out with a job and her own apartment.

Thinking about this story, I realize a number of things.  First of all, the neighbor was both brave and thoughtful to notice signs of danger and then actually do something about it.  Instead of saying, "Oh, well, it can't be anything serious," they acted on their suspicions and saved a life.  Second, what courage on the part of the domestic slave to be willing to wear a wire and risk her life in the operation.  And what determination to exit that awful life and still have the fortitude to make a life for herself. 

And all of this makes me realize that this domestic slave turned "normal" person and the neighbor are excellent personalities for us to model ourselves after.  They took responsibility to do the right thing.  Neither one of them resolved to let others take action and make everything better.  Both realized that only they could end slavery.  Now as we model ourselves after them, only we can help prevent slavery.  Only you can help prevent forest fires--only you can help end slavery.

Saturday, May 21, 2011

Great Heights

I am so thankful that tomorrow is a rest day because today was rough.  Biking about 190 miles in three days has not been a walk in the park by any means, but today, though the shortest, was by far the hardest. 

From strange but cool Cumberland, MD to Somerset, PA I took the Great Allegheny Passage for most of the 55 miles.  The first 20 miles I climbed up to an elevation of 2,300 feet on top of Mt. Savage.  Little did I know that around mile 45 or so I would have an encounter with the rolling hills of Pennsylvania.  And my are they rolling.  Tomorrow when I upload some of the pictures from the trip so far you might see how steep and long some of the hills were.  I really cannot believe that I survived all of them.

I did see a lot of awesome views.  Frostburg, MD was very nearly on the top of a mountain but had about everything you could ever want.  I highly suggest a vacation there for anyone who does not need extra comfort and a ton of stimulation.  Unfortunately I didn't have my camera with me because I hadn't yet seen anything worth taking a picture of, so I didn't bother taking it with me today.  But today I looked down from such great heights over very green fields that made all the climbing and sweating more than worth it (in the end... when I was doing the climbing I definitely didn't think some great heights' views would help any). 

I also crossed over the Mason-Dixon line as well as the Continental Divide.  It's incredible to me that in three days we've already passed through four states: Virginia, West Virginia, Maryland, and Pennsylvania.  I feel like I have seen all of the world that I need to but I know that there is plenty more to see and plenty more to do.

As I am climbing up to great heights, don't forget to donate to the Polaris Project.  You can find links to donating on the side panel of this page or on the "Donations" page.  I'm doing all of this tough biking for the 27 million slaves in the world.  I hope and pray that you all will support my ride by donating, and by doing so helping to help and save those many enslaved.  I can't tell you how many revolutions of the wheel I've gotten up to, but I'm definitely making large strides to my goal of 27 million revolutions.  So I hope that you will help me get to my goal of $5,000.00 of donations.

Friday, May 20, 2011

What Goes Up, Must Come Down Covered in Mud

Day 2 and I am definitely tired, and most surely looking for my first rest day in a couple of days.  Thomas, my driver, is nice to encourage saying that though I might feel like my training wasn't enough, he certainly would not be able to climb some of the big hills that I've been climbing.  Considering that, in general, he is in much better shape than I am, I greatly appreciate his words of inspiration.

Today was a rough day.  There were bigger hills yesterday, but two days of hills really did me in.  That wasn't much fun.

I did very much enjoy myself, though.  Every time I was climbing a hill I reminded myself that what goes up, must come down.  Unfortunately that wasn't always true today, but there were some great downhill rides.  At one point the speed limit was 40 mph down a hill and I was catching up to the car in front of me.  My mother probably would have told me to slow down but I couldn't have been happier.  Thank God for simple little rules.  What goes up must indeed come down; what goes up, must come down with a great smile on its face.

And thank God that Thomas brought his mountain bike to be my back-up bike.  The trail that I was on for about thirty miles was gravel.  More importantly, though, it was muddy with puddles everywhere.  So a few miles into the trail I had Thomas meet me at a break point so that we could switch bikes.  As soon as I was riding the mountain bike I didn't need to slow down for mud or puddles anymore and very quickly I was covered in mud (hopefully I'll put up some pictures on my off-day coming up).  I couldn't have been more happy.  I love having "battle marks" from riding.  And I thought it was hilarious when Thomas first saw me.  I had said over the two-way radio, "Just to let you know, I'm covered in mud."  But when he first saw me I could tell that he didn't think I was being literal.  He was in disbelief.  I laughed quite a bit.

So today was rather difficult, and I can prepare for another sore day tomorrow.  Despite that, I very much enjoyed the number of wind-inducing downhills, no matter how much I had to climb to get to them.  And, of course, I fulfilled my childhood fantasies by getting mud all over me.

Thursday, May 19, 2011

Winchester

Well, folks, 75 miles down, a couple thousand to go.  My driver and I, my best friend Thomas, have arrived in Winchester, VA.  It's now 4:30 in the afternoon, we got here around 3:30.  I left this morning from Wesley Theological Seminary in D.C. at 8:30, so it took me approximately 7 hours to ride 75 miles, plus about an hour for lunch.  Pretty good time, I think.  We had a few snafoos along the way.  The battery on the two-way radios that I'm taking with me to communicate with Thomas died early on, so we had to re-strategize.  But we made it just fine.

I am proud to have worn custom Wesley Theological Seminary riding gear.  Lots of people were staring.  And I must admit, I am extremely grateful for their support.  They are paying for $750.00 of bike equipment and other accessories that I dearly need to make this trip as smooth and efficient and worry-free as possible.  I'm not surprised, though.  Wesley is indeed very social justice oriented and have been excited about supporting this trip for a long time.

I chose to come here to Winchester as my first stop because of my favorite historical character: General Thomas Jonathan "Stonewall" Jackson.  Strange that I would consider a general as my favorite historical character because I am a Christian pacifist.  But Jackson's stalwart faith and creativity in the face of chaos and disaster is extremely inspiring to me.  And, honestly, I am also very interested in war, despite my pacifism.  Jackson camped here in Winchester in the winter of 1862 and it was the last time that he saw his wife and newly born daughter before being killed-in-action at the Battle of Chancellorsville.  So being here actually means a lot to me, because it's the last Stonewall Jackson historical sight that I needed to go to.

Yet, my interested in Winchester is strange on another level.  Though Jackson had a stalwart faith, he did fight for the Confederacy.  Now here I am fighting for the slaves.  I can't ignore the irony.  More importantly, though, I can't ignore the fact that while I may have come to Winchester with different intentions than Stonewall Jackson, and I may have learned from the mistakes of history and of historical characters, we in general have not learned from history.  We read about slavery in this country and around the world a couple hundred years ago and thank God that we don't live in a society like that anymore.  Ha!  There are more slaves now than the total amount of slaves ever before 1865.  Our outrage is misplaced.

Let's get our priorities straight, eh?  I went to the Polaris Project headquarters the other day and they told me a couple of heart-wrenching stories.  I'll tell you one now as an example of how to get our priorities straight.

There was a domestic slave being held in New Jersey.  That's right, New Jersey.  A domestic slave is one who is held inside a house as a maid, basically, but a slave; not allowed to leave, not allowed to do anything but what the family who owns the slave tells them to do.  Well this domestic slave eventually was allowed to go to church on Sunday mornings.  After awhile, someone at the church realized that the slave was coming to church week after week looking depressed, wearing the same clothes, and not talking to anyone.  So the congregant asked the slave if they were ok; no response.  Eventually the slave trusted the congregant and started to tell them what was going on, and the congregant called the Human Trafficking Hotline through Polaris Project, posted at the top of this website, and the FBI were able to rescue the slave from their owners.

Take a look around you.  Be aware of your surroundings.  Care for people other than yourself.  See every human being as a human being and treat them with the respect that they deserve, no matter what condition of life they seem to be in.  Let's get our priorities straight.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Malcolm X

Tomorrow is Malcolm X's birthday.  If the readers of this blog are anything like the people that I have come across in my short life, then you may very well know little of Malcolm X; and the little you do know may be somewhat negative.  But for me, Malcolm X and (in my mind) his South African counterpart, Steve Biko, are heroes for all people.

Tomorrow I will be spending the night in Winchester and will probably write about Stonewall Jackson.  For now I want you to understand that Malcolm X and Steve Biko fought for the consciousness of human beings.  Of course they pushed for more equal tangible rights, but they both understood something and tried to help others see the same: every human being is already of inestimable worth.  All human beings are already equal.  It was their duty to help each individual see how much worth and potential they have. 

That's what is such a shame about slavery in the world today.  People are convinced that they are, in fact, not worth anything.  And when I think that anyone could ever be convinced of that I am brought to tears.  Listen: you are of inestimable worth.  And so is everyone else.  So let's create a world where everyone can claim their individual worth and potential.

Spy Hunter

Tomorrow I start my bike ride.  Tomorrow I start pedaling those revolutions for the 27 million slaves.  Tomorrow I will start blogging about things more directly related to the ride: my reflections, what happens during the day, and stories and articles from Polaris Project.  So for now, here is one last post using Project 86.  These lyrics are from their song, "The Spy Hunter," off the album Songs to Burn Your Bridges By.

"One last disguise

Pawns standing in awe of the game
Of the stage
You've worked so hard at building an empire
Of secret rooms to display yourself
And add to your wealth
The sting of.
Oh, it stings
When I saw it all come crashing
I witnessed the sound of a million voices
Screaming for a public hanging

So hide yourself, hide, hide yourself for now. (2x)

We caught you plotting murder
And now the Tide is Turning
We'll light our souls, heal our bones
Upon your empire burning (2x)

When the world is a target for humanity's market
And all of it's sold for a dime
I've seen the towers of gods
And the power of men
In disguises of the worst kind
I am the words on the page
I am the death among life today
I am the voice of one among the silent
Who's tired of burning among the flames

So hide yourself, hide, hide yourself for now. (2x)

We caught you plotting murder
And now the Tide is Turning
We'll light our souls, heal our bones
Upon your empire burning (2x)

I do not need anymore truthless heroes (3x)
We don't need no truthless heroes

So hide yourself, hide, hide yourself for now. (2x)

We caught you plotting murder
And now the Tide is Turning
We'll light our souls, heal our bones
Upon your empire burning (2x)

I need truth"

We don't need no truthless heroes, I need truth.  What a relevant thing to say considering that slaves are so often tricked into their servitude by promises of grandeur and hope.  Once someone is tricked, how are they ever supposed to know who is telling them the truth?  How are they ever supposed to trust again, even someone who is genuinely intent on helping them?

Here's the problem I see: we convince ourselves that to be successful in the business world, or any world for that matter.  I don't mean to bash my parents, I love them very much and greatly respect their advice, but growing up I'd often hear that sometimes the only way to attain the success that I deserve is to step on the toes of others.  And I was planning on being a teacher.  I have no doubt that they are correct, though.  We have entered into a system where one must lie, steal, cheat, and/or push other people around to get anywhere in life.  Maybe you can see where I'm going with this--as long as we continue to enter into that system we validate it.  So we are also validating the worst manifestations of that system: tricking people into slavery to make money or, in the case of domestic slavery especially, just to feel good about ourselves. 

You and I have the power to destroy that system.  This song is about a witness to the truth confronting the powers of evil and injustice, the Devil, or whatever you want to call it.  When we see the truth for the first time we realize that all along we have been pawns in the game and injustice has disguised itself in so many different forms.  We can either sit back and let it all continue to unfold or we can say to injustice, "You better run into some serious hiding because we're coming for you."

We have caught injustice/evil plotting murder, and we can stand up to be the voice of the oppressed silent screaming for a public hanging of all the unjust powers in this world.  We can be the words of the Bible lived out in a radical way, we can proclaim death to the so-called life of this world.  Join hands with your church, your family, your friends, your neighbors, and scream to the world, "No, I don't need you, I need truth, and there are 27 million slaves in the world today who desperately need truth.  I am their voice, and I will not stand for this anymore."

All around you the powers of men, slavery, is disguised in different ways.  Call the National Human Trafficking Hotline (the number is at the top of this website), learn how to recognize slavery.  It's time to stand up.  It's time to see the world as it really is.  It's time to say, No.  It's time to be the voice I'm sure you've always wanted to be, the voice for the voiceless. 

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Sad Machines

As I write these Project 86 posts, I am reminded of just how powerful their music and lyrics are.  While you read the lyrics to this song, perhaps you might start to realize how amazing I've been at choosing songs, because each song's lyrics have perfectly transitioned into the next (I am, indeed, very humble).  So here are the lyrics to the Project 86 song, "Sad Machines," from their album Drawing Black Lines

"An ageless question, universal
They're asking why
Creation destined cries flood the night in pain
They say if You are real then take it away
But man will only look to You lying on his face

Now we lie awake
With shut eyes
So to forever forget this

Their cries, this agony, injustices, suffering
Symptoms of a larger disease
Inside of me and you and me
So try to close your eyes and make it fade away
But open and you'll see
This stain is you, this stain is me

Now so many wonder why it is
So much has gone awry in all of this
And being makes you sigh that you exist
But you can't escape this
Seemingly undeserved is your lot
But generations past and you forgot
We chose to eat our fill and fell to not
This pain is here reminding us to turn and leave
To come back home

Pointing to show us the way"

Whenever I listen to this song my only reaction is, "Wow."  It's not often that a Christian band, or a Christian in general, acknowledges the pain and struggle wrapped up in the question of suffering in this world.  Suffering exists and it often seems like Christians don't acknowledge it or simply aren't aware.  We Christians are often guilty of making life with God seem happy-go-lucky and nothing can go wrong.  All the while the truth is that God's Creation cries out in pain.  And what a strange thing: the world that God has supposedly created agonizes day in and day out.  Logically, then, God doesn't exist... unless we are lying on our face and we have no way to turn except to prayer.

This is our sad fate.  We struggle in pain until we can struggle no longer and then we turn to God out of desperation.  But the title of the song is so appropriate.  We've turned ourselves into sad machines.  As long as we are eating our fill of the symptoms of a larger disease we are nothing but machines of this world that we humans have created, and it is a world of great suffering because we become the stain of the world.  We sad machines are the stain of the world. 

We wonder why there is so much suffering in the world, we wonder why there are 27 million slaves in the world today.  How could God let that happen?  How could people be so evil as to create such a large underground slave system?  How could our government and other governments allow such a thing?  The truth is that you and I are the reason.  You and I feel the pain but we also create the pain, our own pain and the insufferable pain of others.  Part of our sad machine existence is the refusal to admit the part that we play and instead sit around complaining about the role others have played.  It's always someone else's fault that so much pain exists, so much slavery exists.  True, it is someone else's fault, but it's also the fault of you and me.

The pain should point us back to God instead of away from God.  Now, I'm not saying that we should all become believers because that's our only hope.  You can if you want and I would rejoice with you, but the God that we believe in is a God of liberation and love.  If you choose not to believe in God, at least believe in liberation and love.  The pain that you and millions of others feel should point us to the way of liberation and love.  We have tried living as sad machines and it only leads to more sadness.  Now with our faces on the ground we have no choice but to take a different path.

It's up to you and me, folks.  You and I are the stain of this world.  So you and I must choose a different path.  There is no more time for blaming and complaining and wondering.  You and I must do the liberating and the loving, you and I must do the work of justice and hope.  Let's not wait for others to do something.  It's up to you and me. 

And trust me, you are a powerful voice.  Flood your political representatives with letters and signatures, organize rallies, raise funds for organizations like Polaris Project.  It's up to you and me, and we are powerful.