Glimpses into the Life of a Refugee

Gihembe Refugee Camp, Rwanda

For many years my mind has been trained to analyze data, figures, reports and news. To have a critical mind.  As a result it is hard for me to change from that mindset.  It is difficult to just relax and let God teach. My mind is judgmental, critical and filled with bias and the need to label everything and to put it into a box.  However, these are often the very things, which prevent me from hearing God talking and teaching me.  On this trip I have been forced, by inconsistent Internet, to spend more time observing, experiencing and learning – just listening. It is a good thing.

We have traveled to the north, east and west of Rwanda, and experienced a lifetime of memories.  Spending time in the refugee camp in Gihembe was one of the biggest events.  As we entered the camp I was studying every building, process, procedure and rule to understand how a refugee camp can operate for 20 years and keep 15,000 people fed, watered, safe, educated and peaceful on this high dusty mountain top.  It is a herculean task for sure. 

The question continually spinning around in my head, as I observed the crowds around me, was why does this camp still exist?  The big wars, and massive violence are no longer making headlines.  There are at least two answers I have learned.  The first is represented by a story a family shared this week.  They did indeed leave the refugee camp in Gihembe and returned to their family farm in DRC (Democratic Republic of Congo).  Immediately upon returning the same hate filled, violent people that drove them to refugee camps in the first place and occupied their farm, organized and sent them a message they would be killed unless they departed immediately.  The family fled back across the border to the refugee camps, leaving their family farm in the possession of these violent people.  They have no real chance of recovering their land, as there is no effective government and their lives would always be at risk.  They had no other place to go.  That is why the camps continue to exist.  Large numbers of people have no place in which to return.

The second answer is refugees have not been offered a home anywhere else. As a result they are confined to camps, not as second-class citizens, but as people with NO citizenship.  They are in effect sentenced to a lifetime of poverty, confinement, limitations and rejection.  They are constantly made to feel unwanted by the outside world.  It is like winning the lottery when a country finally opens their doors and welcomes in refugees!!!  Our Congolese friends in Boise have won the resettlement lottery, but they always have to leave behind friends and family.  It is both a joyous and heartbreaking experience.

Can you image being confined to a far off distant mountaintop with no money and no job, and not being welcome outside the camp as a result?  Can you imagine not having anything?  With not even the the opportunity to work, even with a university degree, because of where you fled from and your status as a refugee?  Most jobs go to citizens first and refugees are at the bottom of the list.  In addition, you are not able to travel across borders.  Countries won’t permit you to enter or leave.

As a result of all these tragedies and injustices caused by wars, trauma and violence, I am deeply thrilled that the USA opens their doors out of compassion and enables a few of these refugee families an opportunity for a new life.  These are the homeless of the world and we will not forget them.  In the world Shawna and I live in, refugees are always welcome!

************************************************************************

Kevin Benedict

Writer, Speaker, Jesus-Fan

Read Shawna's Blog! Words on the Way

A Few Minutes - Visiting the Gihembe Refugee Camp

View from the high school campus

Shawna and I realized a dream of many years yesterday. We traveled to Rwanda and received government permission to visit Gihembe Refugee camp where many of our Boise, Idaho friends were born and/or had lived for nearly 20 years.

The road trip from Kigali to Gihembe was a crazy beautiful climb to 7,200 feet.  A winding road filled with motos (motorcycle taxis), bikes, cows, goats, blind corners, police with AK-47s unsuccessfully attempting to pull us over, buses, cars and trucks. One large truck tragically did not make the corner and crashed through homes.

It is hard to anticipate the beauty of Rwanda. Here people live life on the edge, both literally and figuratively.  Many homes are perched on the edge of steep mountains with thousands of vertical feet between homes, gardens and water sources. Collecting water to drink and clean from the valley below and climbing back home can be an all day and exhausting experience.

ADRA runs all the refugee schools in Rwanda and had kindly opened the door for our camp visit.  When we arrived at the Gihembe camp we met with the camp director.  He was very kind to us.  The director wanted to know our backgrounds and our motivations for being there.  He is responsible for order and security wanted our visit to be well managed, safe and orderly.  He gave us camp rules and instructions for our visit.  He later checked on us, and saw the love and joy being shared, and he smiled warmly.  He has a big job running a camp with tens of thousands of refugees.

It was a deeply moving experience to walk the dusty red paths among the school buildings and homes carved in the steep banks of mountains with little goats prancing about.  To visit the families of our many Congolese friends in Boise.  To hold their hand, look into their eyes, and wonder at their life journey.  A journey tragically disrupted by wars, violence, deaths and intense trauma and loss.  A journey that forced them from their farms, families and friends in the Congo to this temporary mountaintop refuge in Northern Rwanda for the last 20 years.

To share just a few minutes of our friends' life and experience was deeply touching and a gift from God.  To sit in the same homes that the children in our bible study class in Boise grew up in!  To see the talent and creativity that enabled people to survive in mud brick huts with a dirt floors, rafters made of branches and a roof made of UNHCR plastic for 20 years!  These families birthed and raised children here.  They brought honor to these homes.  I stared at the painted house number on the door.  A mark of order, a residence, a home.

We praise God for the opportunity to see and experience just a few minutes of the lives of our Congolese friends in Boise.

************************************************************************

Kevin Benedict

Read Shawna's Blog! Words on the Way

A Futurist's View on Christianity

The notion of progress based on reason is a core concept of Christianity and democracies.  "Early church fathers taught that reason was the supreme gift from God and the means to "progressively" increase their understanding of scripture and revelation.  Consequently, Christianity was oriented to the future..." ~ Rodney Stark

It is important to understand the major themes of the bible are not just about one time and place in the past, but about a series of continuous events on a timeline that point to today, and into the future.  An over abundance of focus and romanticism of the past, leads us to diminish the reality of God's work in us and the world today and tomorrow.  

We sit and study the past, lament about the future, but fail to meaningfully contribute to it.  The Old and New Testament times were not the golden eras, the future is.  For us, it is not a matter of sitting on the great stone steps built by earlier generations, but to add to them in our time.

Globalization, Future of Work, Digital Transformation and You

I have the unique opportunity to work as a futurist and technology analyst.  What does that mean?  It means I get to spend time with very smart people, researching, collecting data, analyzing it and writing about technology and its impact on people, businesses, societies and economies.

As a result of many discussions with technology and industry leaders and my own research, it is my firm belief that it has never been more important to engage in a lifelong pursuit of education and skills development. Education is not something you complete, rather it is a life long activity - a lifestyle.  Technology innovations, fast changing business models, transforming economies and evolving markets mean it is highly likely you will have multiple careers, with different companies and in different industries during your working life.  In order to enter and remain in the economic winners' column you will need to constantly prepare and train to compete for new career and emerging business opportunities.

I understand that many people don't like change, and many more would rather not invest in continual education.  Change is often uncomfortable, stressful and distracts from more pleasant pursuits.  I share many of those feelings, but those feelings don't change reality.  The blustery winds of change are  in the air, and they forewarn of global economic transformation and turmoil.  Transformations that can open up many doors to opportunities for those prepared, but pummel those that are not.  There will always be winners and losers in a competition, and the global economy is most definitely a competition.  In a global economy with finite resources and jobs, the winners will be those prepared and with the best playbook to compete at the highest level.

Today entire industries are emerging, while others are disappearing.  Everything is in motion.  Workers must recognize this as the new norm, not an exception.  Jobs, markets, companies and careers are temporary.  Competition for jobs is not a local competition, but a global competition.  Factories, service companies, retail stores, call centers and businesses of all kinds are competing for business against companies in the Philippines, Malaysia, China, India and in many other regions.  Your skills, work ethics and education, and those of your peers, are constantly being considered and compared with other competitors in the global work force.

It is important to think globally today.  Jobs, careers, opportunities and competition are global.  This is great news for those educated, trained and mobile, but a real challenge for those that are not.  In a relatively free and capitalistic global economy you are able to compete for business and jobs globally. Your skills can now be marketed, sold and utilized in a far bigger market.  Your opportunities to make money are greatly expanded. There are far more employment and business opportunities to consider, but the numbers of competitors are also greater.  This is welcome news if you are prepared to compete, but discouraging if you are not.

College graduates must recognize this new reality and plan accordingly. The financial plans and career strategies of your parents are no longer applicable.  Careers and incomes will likely be far more volatile thus requiring one to save more and spend less.  Workers need to constantly monitor industry trends and job markets and be prepared to move and retrain to remain competitive.  

In the past your employer managed your career, in the new reality you must "own" the management and development of your career.  You must hone your skills, share your knowledge, and build your personal and career networks.  Never before in history has the ability to write and communicate been more important.  In a digital age, your reputation and presence will be framed by your ability to effectively represent your knowledge, skills and character using digital ink.

Many have scoffed at social networking as a waste of time, or even worst a narcissistic pursuit, but your ability to both discover, and compete for emerging employment and business opportunities in the future may be directly determined by your skills, proficiencies and investments in these areas.

My Prayer for the Mornings

May you feel you are in the right place, at the right time, in the right frame of mind.  May you awake in the morning feeling thankful, energized and excited to fulfill your God ordained purpose in life.  May you notice the moments around you everyday where you can make a difference.  May you leave regrets behind and carry only opportunities and possibilities forward. May you feel secure and joy filled in the presence of God.

Seconds Chances

In a time when many are thinking about changes they want to make for the new year, what if instead we changed for only a second, rather than a day, week, month or year  What if we dedicated a second each hour to a beautiful thought, a compliment, forgiving someone or sharing a word of kindness and encouragement?  What if we gave seconds chances to change us?

Many people's lives have been changed in a second. The second they saw their future husband or wife, the second their child was born, the last breathe of a loved one, the second they committed to a cause, or the second they looked into the eyes of mortality. The second they knew there was more to life than just pleasing oneself.

Behind Every Moment

Behind every minute is an adventure, an insight, a moment, a purpose.  In every store and in every line is a person struggling financially.  Behind every shopping kart is a person making hard and stressful decisions.  Behind every front door is a tired parent to hug, relieve and support.  Behind every parent is a child to encourage, love and guide.  Behind every elderly person is a need not to be forgotten and a library of memories to share.  Behind every young adult is the anxiety of the future.  Behind every relationship are people struggling for compatibility and love.  Behind every smile there is a pain to listen to and a hand to squeeze.  Behind every job there is a worker asking is this the right place to be?  Behind every homeless person is a story, and a mother and a father.  Behind every refugee, is an epic journey and a reason they seek refuge.  Every moment of every day we are surrounded by opportunities to be blessed and to be a blessing.

A Call from God on a Snowy Night

On a dark winter night, God asked us to find shelter for a homeless family.  Not in a burning-bush manner request, but more like the crack of a 2x4 to the back of the head. We received a notice.  Not from God, but from his assistant.  She reported a single mother and her three children were being evicted and would be homeless. The snow was blowing and it was 5 degrees outside in Boise, Idaho.

We did not know this family.  They were from Africa. They spoke very little English.  They had attended our church, but they were always silent and shy in the back corner of the church.  Language barriers had kept us from knowing them and their story.  An awkward welcome on sabbath mornings, a few halting words in English and French were exchanged, but we did not know how to advance conversations with them.

I confess a million critical questions instantly went through my mind that night.  They started with, "I wonder what they did wrong?  Whose fault is it?  Who brought them to Boise?  Is there a way I can avoid getting involved?"  I searched my calendars and excuse boxes, but they were strangely empty. "Darn!" It was 5 degrees out with snow and ice on the ground.  "What kind of a family chooses to be evicted in this weather?"

Although I confess to having all of those questions in the first seconds, it was soon followed by the thud of a holy 2x4 to the back of my head.  It was clear there was a family in trouble, and winter survival was the only thing that mattered that night.

Our church community gathered in the snow outside of the young mother's apartment and pondered the task.  How do you clean out an apartment when there is no place to take the items?  Everything needed to be thrown out or stored elsewhere.  There was no plan.  The family was only allowed a bag of clothes each in the homeless shelter. The few items worth keeping were dispersed to the homes of friends and family members.

Why didn't they just move into a family member's home?  There are rules against that.  When you are in housing programs or when you sign many leases, you are only allowed a specific number of people in a home.  When your entire community is other refugees, your options are very limited.

A security guard was sent to ensure we did not throw inappropriate things into the large garbage bins at the apartment complex.  By inappropriate, they meant everything we were trying to throw away. That was a real problem. How do you clean out an apartment stuffed with old worn out furniture, on a dark snowy night in the middle of winter with a vigilant security guard watching.  Where do you take it all?  The answer - you break down the furniture, and use all the different garbage bins around the complex while avoiding the watchful security guard.

I learned much that night.  I learned that generous people and organizations are eager to donate old furniture and clothes to refugees.  There were literally mountains of donated clothes and worn out furniture piled in that apartment.

In most of our homes, we have storage in the form of shelves, closets, dressers, storage containers, garages, attics, spare rooms, boxes, etc.  If we have too much of something, we just throw it in the back of our cars and SUVs and take it away.  However, if you are a refugee just getting off a plane from the tropics of Africa with only a small suitcase, no car, no job, no English, and only a tiny apartment, and 18 boxes of used clothes are delivered to your apartment by strangers along with worn-out couches and a broken set of disassembled glass dining room furniture, you have an immediate problem.  What do you do with it?  How do you sort through all of those gifts, acquire tools to assemble the furniture, and remove the things you don't need? The answer is you don't. The gifts just pile up as you have no way of removing them, and they are too heavy to carry on the bus.

There is a difference between donating items, and caring for a family.  Caring for a family means you learn their needs, their sizes, ages and the sexes of their children. You learn their favorite colors, and you give them the dignity of choice.  The children don't need seven winter coats of varying sizes each, they need one in their size and favorite color.

City Light, Boise

That night we looked into the eyes of a confused and frightened family.  They didn't know us.  They didn't understand what was happening or why.

Coming to America as a refugee is incredibly complex.  There are mountains of required paperwork, appointments to keep, papers to sign, offices all around town they must find and visit, classes they must attend and a language they must learn in eight months, all while herding children along.  It is easy to get overwhelmed by the complexities and to fall through the cracks of the process.

Can you imagine the level of bravery that is required for a young single mom with three small children to move to the other side of the world with nothing to start a new life?  A life completely dependent on learning a new language, culture and environment?

They didn't understand why a crowd of white people were marching in and out of their home carrying off their belongings and disassembling their beds that night.  They cried and sobbed as they were driven to the homeless shelter and checked in.  They were stopped and searched for drugs and weapons before being escorted into a large room full of sleeping mothers and children. They were given a bed and four small storage boxes in which to place all their remaining personal possessions.

Can you imagine the intensity of the fear in that mother's heart as she lay on the bed, holding her three small children close and staring at the ceiling through tear filled eyes, listening to the coughing and groans of those sleeping around her?  Not having a home, or knowing what the morning would bring, and how she was to care for and provide food for her children in this bitterly cold foreign land.

We witnessed that story.  It was our experience.  God called us that day.  We didn't have to raise money for a mission trip to Africa.  God brought Africa to us.  That family is now our family.

************************************************************************

Kevin Benedict

Writer, Speaker, Jesus-Fan

Follow me on Twitter @kevinrbenedict

Read My Blog! Way Word Traveler

Read Shawna's Blog! Words on the Way

Scheduling for Creative Writing and Blogging

Storyline Productivity Schedule

My wife and I recently attended Donald Miller's Storyline conference where he shared his "Storyline Productivity Schedule". I have been using it for the past 8 weeks and have found it works great for me!  I have increased my writing productivity, and have a much better understanding of the proper times in the day to write for maximum productivity.  Why?  It recognizes how the writer's mind works and helps you prepare a schedule around it.

In a nutshell, the New York Times bestselling author, Donald Miller says the mind only has a limited amount of "creative energy" in a day.  You start the day with a full tank, but it runs out quickly.  So, you must make a conscience choice where you expend it.

Miller says his creative energies run from 6 AM - 11 AM and then his tank is empty.  So he locks out external interruptions as much as possible and dedicates it to creative writing.  After that time, he moves on to busy work that requires less creativity like answering emails, daily chores, work tasks, etc.  This matches my experience as well.

I have for years postponed my writing until after my To Do list is completed, but by then my tank was empty.  Miller identified the concept of creative energy and the notion that it expires quickly, early in the day.  He gives writers/bloggers permission to respect their art and craft by building a daily schedule around it.

Miller's Storyline Productivity Scheduled resonated with me and now I am better prepared.

Join 5-Minute Friday: http://katemotaung.com/five-minute-friday/
************************************************************************

Kevin Benedict

Husband, Father, Writer, Speaker, Traveler, Jesus Fan, Life Addict

Follow me on Twitter @kevinrbenedict

Read My Blog! Way Word Traveler

Read Shawna's Blog! Words on the Way

The Financial Costs of Supporting a False Image from My Life University

1995 Jeep Grand Cherokee

I bought a top of the line forest green Jeep Grand Cherokee a few years ago in Mt. Vernon, Washington.  It was the newest vehicle I had ever owned and it growled with power!  I felt accomplished when I drove it.  My friends and family could smell my success in the leather of the interior.

The jeep portrayed the image I wanted people to have of me.  I was starting a new business and wanted everyone to believe it was a success.  I followed the "fake-it-until-you-make-it" mantra. It worked. I was able to fake success right up to the day I had to give the jeep back to the bank.

I had convinced myself success was a privilege of the brave.  Those brave enough, deserved it and got it.  I was brave, and following documented success formulas, so it was just a matter of time before I was successful.  That is until my stupidity ran into my arrogance and it was time to pay the reality check.

One of many lessons I learned during this painful season of my life, was to not undervalue the cost of risk. I believed courage and hard work could overcome risk.  They couldn't.

In the late 90s (dot.com era), many of my friends worked in Internet start-ups.  They jumped from one start-up to the next chasing the stock option dream of a big payout.  They used all of their available income and bonuses to invest in more and different Internet start-ups.  They accepted risky jobs, with risky start-ups, in a risky industry and then re-invested their money back into a risky market - effectively doubling down on their bet.  Most lost it all when the dot.com era ended.  There is a real cost to risk.

I have learned over time that my behaviors and those of my high tech friends toward risk were not so unusual.  Many people take on large student loans, credit card debt, large home mortgages and car payments all assuming things will go well forever.  Isn't that poor risk management?  I received my education on risk management from MLU (My Life University).  I took out high-interest loans to attend.  Here are some things I learned from my mistakes that can hopefully be useful to you:

• Manage risks carefully.  It's not about your manhood, moral fiber or level of courage. It's a math thing.
• The more risk you are exposed to - the greater the chances of bad things happening.  Again, it's a math thing.
• If you want to take a risk, save up enough cash so you can pay the cost of risk. There is always a cost and you can't escape it.    
• Risk does not necessarily equal reward.  Often high risk pays very little potential reward for the level of risk exposure.  For example, risking 5-years of your career on a poorly run, money losing start-up that pays you less than market value and doesn't provide stability or a career advancement path is highly risky.  Why risk so much?  Move on when risk exceeds the possible reward.  It's a math thing.
• Problems in business, personal finances, employment, health, relationships and mental and emotional issues are guaranteed in your lifetime.  In fact, it is rare you will have a season of life without some or all of these things happening.  They are not a distant possibility for the unlucky few, they are absolute guarantees in life and come with a cost. Invest in understanding them so you have frameworks for working through them.
• Many life events are not under your control.  You need close supportive relationships, spiritual, moral, emotional and philosophical frameworks and tools to help navigate a scary and unpredictable world.  Invest in these.  A meaningful relationship with God can help you get through a lot.
• Today the average person will stay on a job 4.1 years.  If you work 40 years you may have nearly 10 different jobs (am told it is a math thing).  It is best to acknowledge the transient nature of employment and prepare yourself mentally, spiritually, financially for change.
• Life is more fun without debt.  You can live an extraordinary and meaningful life of friendships, adventure, service and flexibility if you are not a slave to debt.  
• If all your emotional energies are consumed by debt worry, you have little energy left to invest in loving relationships, joy, creating beauty around you and investing in life changing experiences and service projects.
• Debt multiplies risk, increases stress and limits freedom.
• Be real.  Be authentic.  It's healthier, cheaper, more enjoyable, and less risky than propping up an expensive image on a credit card.  
• If friendships and social status has been developed and propped up based on an image that is not authentic or financially sustainable - confess and start fresh.
• Many a childhood dream is squashed under the weight of debt.
• Many golden years have become leadened burdens because of poor risk management and not predicting the predictable.  It's a math thing.

When I was in school I complained, "When am I ever going to use this math in real life!!!?  The answer is I didn't and it cost me big.

Want to read more?  Read Formulas for Success that Don't Work.

************************************************************************

Kevin Benedict

Husband, Father, Writer, Speaker, Traveler, Jesus Fan, Life Addict

Follow me on Twitter @kevinrbenedict

Read My Blog! Way Word Traveler

Read Shawna's Blog! Words on the Way

Boise as a Refuge

"We all have a past, and the future is a gift."

Boise is honored to have been selected as a refugee resettlement city.  As a result, Shawna and I have met many extraordinary new African friends, and we get to share this special time in their lives with them.  Just last night a family called to say eleven more of their family members would be arriving in Boise this month!  What a Christmas present!  Sounds like Shawna and I will need to find eleven more Boise State football sweatshirts.

Now comes the challenge of helping these arriving families find appropriate housing, warm clothes and integrating into our community while experiencing their first snow flurries and cold.  Just image trying to efficiently transport eleven people to grocery stores, doctor appointments, schools and church functions!  To be fair, refugees are brought to the USA by agencies that skillfully manage their care and integration, but our little Boise church helps fill in the gaps and needs - and there are many.

There have been times in my life when I felt like a hamster in a cage (before the time of free range), running around the spinning exercise wheel.  Accomplishing nothing important, seemingly going nowhere fast, not making any meaningful difference in the world and underappreciated.  I have found that jumping in and helping people with bigger challenges than my own is the real balm to those feelings!

With these new families, our church will have over 50 refugees attending, mostly from Rwanda and Democratic Republic of Congo.  Their numbers have grown to where they now have their own Kinyarwanda language church service each week immediately following our English language service.  If your church suffers from depressing dark and drab colors in the sanctuary, there is an easy solution - invite some African families with their beautiful bright colors!

The need for transportation has suddenly become a high priority. The days of driving to church with empty seats in our car is a thing of the past.  In fact we recently purchased a used minivan and now drive two vehicles most weekends.  We will need to get serious about locating and funding a bus soon.  Do you have a spare?

Our relationships with our African friends, puts faces on the data about suffering we had previously only read about in books and newspapers.  It's no longer just a historical or abstract event.  These days we are privileged with the opportunity to look into the eyes of the people that experienced it.

The other night our African friends were telling us all about their immediate and extended families. Several times during the conversation, they would hesitate a moment while reminiscing and quietly say, "People came and killed them."  These words reminded us that refugees seek refuge for a reason.  If that refuge has the name Boise on it, we who live here need look no further for a purpose and a mission.

Typing in the Forest

When I was seven-years old I found an old typewriter in the middle of a 50 acre woods.  It was mostly hidden and covered with moss, leaves and little plants growing between the keys.  I found it while snooping, and not much escaped my snoops.

I named the location, Typewriter Fort, in tribute to... the typewriter. Its location is still noted on a hand drawn map tucked into a box in my garage today.  Decades after naming the location, I returned and found the typewriter still there nearly buried and worst for wear.

I always wondered how the typewriter came to the woods.  How did it get from an important person's polished hardwood desk (anyone with something worth typing was important) to the damp muddy earth among the hazelnut trees?  I was sure there was a very good story to tell, but fingers could no longer move the rusted keys to tell it.

The typewriter was now a monument marking a location in the woods where we would escape and hide from roving bands of off-road motorcyclist and other assorted childhood villains both real and imagined.  It was not just a name on a map.  It was a circle of blackberries bushes with thorns protecting us from the back, and a row of ancient fir trees and tall ferns hiding us from the front and sides.

The Typewriter Fort wasn't the only fort, as we had fifty acres to explore and patrol, but it was the most enduring.  We selected our "forts" by determining where people were least likely to go.  I remember a circle of rough looking seven to ten year-olds armed with pocket knives and hatchets looking at a crumpled map and strategically pointing to places we had never been.  "Never been there!" Someone would say pointing their dirty finger at the water and dirt stained map.  "Perfect! Let's build a fort there!"

Some forts were better than others.  Some were simply wooden boards stretched out from the muddy bank of a slime covered pond to an island where we would lie in the sun and spear frogs and salamanders all afternoon.  That was before frogs organized, raised money and developed a celebrity led social media campaign.  We would cut down a bamboo pole, sharpen it, split the tips and notch the edges to hold our prey.

Other forts were elaborate and even had "living" fences.  Fences made of saplings we cut and stuck in the mud which soon grew into living trees that filled in the gaps in our walls with limbs and leaves making our fort invisible and the going-ons secret.  Still others were named after the model of the abandoned and stripped vehicle left in the briars near by.

I remember one fort in particular we called the Mob Car Fort.  The long black vehicle showed up unannounced one day in the forest. We waited the customary 10 days before smashing the windows and claiming it.  However, on the eleventh-day the owner who had gone "walk-about" showed up and rudely claimed his vehicle and demanded reparations.  After that experience we decided to extend the waiting period to 12 days.

Many of our forts were temporary.  If we failed to maintain them weekly they would quickly disappear under the onslaught of nature.  Nature slaughted a lot in those days and nearly always won, but the typewriter remained, a vestige to enduring strength and fortitude.

Writing is special. It captures a thought, preserves it, and enables it to be shared for millenniums. While many great spiritual men and women have lived throughout history, most did not write down their inspirations for preservation.  Our collection of the books of the bible and other great works are those that were written and preserved. They represent ideas, inspirations, stories about a time and a place.  I was once told by a wise mentor, "A thought does not exist if not written down."  I would hate to die without the proof of having had a thought, and not being able to prove my big brother wrong.

The typewriter in the forest was a monument, not only for a location in the woods and a collection of childhood memories, but it symbolizes to me the enduring value of writing and encourages me to stretch my comfort zone so I don't have to say, "Never been there."

Walking Through Lisbon and Pondering Earthquakes

Damage from the 1755
Lisbon Earthquake

It was November 1st, All Saints day.  The churches of Lisbon were packed with both the regulars and the irregulars celebrating this special holiday.  At 9:40 AM, during church services, the first tremors were felt by parishioners.  These tremors announced a massive 8.5-9.0 earthquake that lasted 3-6 minutes collapsing 85% of the buildings.  Fissures up to 15 feet wide opened up across the city. Fires broke out as stoves, fireplaces, lanterns and ovens poured out sparks, fuel and embers into the debris.  The fires burned for 5 days.

That was just the beginning of the disaster.  Forty-minutes after the earthquake, a series of three giant tsunamis washed over the city and swept away thousands of survivors that had gathered in the open spaces along the docks to escape the rubble, fires and cloud of dust that had settled over the city.

Out of a population of approximately 200,000 in Lisbon, experts believe 40,000 perished. Philosophers, theologians, church leaders and the populace searched for meaning. Here is an excerpt from Wikipedia:

The earthquake had struck on an important church holiday and had destroyed almost every important church in the city, causing anxiety and confusion amongst the citizens of a staunch and devout Roman Catholic city and country, which had been a major patron of the Church. Theologians focused and speculated on the religious cause and message, seeing the earthquake as a manifestation of divine judgment.

Rebuilt churches in Lisbon
still show damage from the
earthquake. Note pillars.

One of the most confounding aspects of the Lisbon earthquake for the religious, was the fact that Lisbon's Alfama district, the seedy red-light district suffered only minor damage.  How could the notoriously vice-ridden section of Lisbon survive, while the churches had been destroyed?

It was hard for the people of Lisbon to not see God's wrath in the destruction.  The disaster struck on a special church holiday, during service.  Their churches were destroyed, their clergy and members dead or injured.

As Shawna and I walked among the ruins of churches in Lisbon a few weeks ago, I pondered the biblical story of Rahab, the prostitute, God saved from the earthquake that brought destruction to Jericho and enabled Israel to defeat them. I think also of Mary Magdalene and the Samaritan woman at the well. God seems to have had a special place in his heart for the victims of brutality, disease, poverty and misfortune.  Yet ultimately these ladies all died.  We all die.  While we live, we spend time on a seismically active planet that routinely shakes, rumbles, spews, cracks, splashes and shifts.  The bible tells us this is our destiny until God recreates a paradise, with presumably less disastrous shaking.

Perhaps God wasn't sending a passive aggressive demonstration of wrath to Lisbon, but was showing mercy to the downtrodden of the Alfama district.  Perhaps he saw an earthquake happening and held up the structures in Alfama district to show he cared for them.  Who knows, but when I read the red-letter words in the New Testament, that is the Jesus revealed to me.  Rather than seeing only God's wrath in disease, disasters and suffering, I see his comfort, hope, mercy and love in those that perished and were saved and protected.

I think God is very anxious to come again and save us.  He is preparing a place for us, a safe, pure and beautiful paradise. But he waits.  I imagine him pacing the golden streets in heaven nervously (a holy nervousness). Waiting, waiting for the final act, when the results of sin are fully demonstrated and time is ready.

Formulas for Success That Don't Work

When I was a eighteen-years old I was a big fan of Benjamin Franklin.  I scribbled lists of his words of wisdom and aphorisms on pieces of paper and carried them everywhere with me.  Didn't you?  I wanted to be successful.  I wanted admiration, respect and approval.  I was searching for a success formula and Benjamin Franklin seemed to have it. Here were some of my favorites:

• Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise.
• God helps those that help themselves.
• There are no gains without pains.
• He that waits on fortune is never sure of a dinner.
• Lost time is never found again.
• Plough deep while sluggards sleep, and you will have corn to sell and to keep.
• Keep thy shop, and thy shop will keep thee.
• Industry, perseverance, and frugality make fortune yield.

I was also a big fan of the book of Proverbs.  I memorized entire chapters.  They contained formulas for success and I was all over it.  Here were some of my favorite verses:

• Lazy hands make for poverty, but diligent hands bring wealth.
• A hard-working farmer has plenty to eat, but it is stupid to waste time on useless projects.
• Hard work will give you power; being lazy will make you a slave.
• No matter how much a lazy person wants something, he will never get it. A hard worker will get everything he wants.

I grew up in a fundamentalist home that embraced hard work, legalism and strict adherence to rules.  To enforce compliance, we faced high levels of fear, shame and guilt associated with rule breaking.  It was a formula.  A formula for life, here and in the hereafter.  I embraced it.

For five years during my college years (yes it took me five years - there was traffic), I trained in martial arts.  These arts were appealing to me as they included books and lists of techniques, methodologies and scripts, plus a system of rewards for practicing them.  It was another success formula.  I added these to my collection.  Here are some of the things I learned:

• You can do anything you put your mind to
• If you believe you can do it, you can
• Practice does not make perfect, perfect practice makes perfect
• Mental toughness outweighs physical toughness
• Push through your limits
• Limits are in your mind

Shortly after I graduated from Portland State University, I joined Dale Carnegie and Associates.  This was a company that sold, get this, success formulas!  I felt like Christopher Columbus discovering new continents each time I found another list of success formulas.  My confidence was sky high.  I wondered why everyone wasn't following my exact path to guaranteed success.

Here are a few of the Dale Carnegie principles from his book How to Win Friends and Influence People.  I added these principles to my collection and carried them with me:

1. Don't criticize, condemn or complain
2. Give honest and sincere appreciation
3. Arouse in the other person and eager want (good salesmanship)
4. Become genuinely interested in the other person
5. Smile
6. Remember that a person's name is to that person the sweetest most important sound
7. Be a good listener.  Encourage others to talk about themselves
8. Talk in terms of the other person's interests
9. Make the other person feel important, and do it sincerely
10. The only way to get the best of an argument is to avoid it
11. Show respect for the other person's opinions, never say you are "wrong"
12. If you are wrong, admit it quickly and emphatically

My next career move was to work under the mentorship of a wealthy entrepreneur, real estate mogul and founder of a software start-up.  He had a demonstrable and proven success formula!  He taught me wealth principals from the street.  Ones not taught in schools.  These were the rules of entrepreneurship, the real success formulas.  Here are a few things I learned:

1. The rich do things different than others.  They have different strategies.
2. Don't pay others, when you can do it yourself.
3. Live simply, work hard, invest in property and be an entrepreneur.
4. The rich build businesses and are entrepreneurial.
5. The rich are creative and think outside the box.
6. When you meet obstacles, there are always ways to get around them.
7. Ignore many of the rules, they are meant for others.
8. Get a job to earn investment money.  A job pays bills, but wealth builds a life.
9. Wealth is not earned in classrooms, but on the street.
10. Don't take advice on how to build wealth from a poor man.
11. Use the bank's money to build your business, not your own.
12. Protect your assets.  Avoid all unnecessary taxes.
13. The real secrets to success are not written in books and published by best sellers.
14. Earn your money at home, but spend it elsewhere.  Don't draw attention or show-off.

I carried my world class collection of success formulas with me everywhere.  They were my guarantees.  I was proud, very proud of my collection.  I was obnoxious.  I knew success was inevitable and I was putting in the hours and making sure everyone knew it.  I would look over a room full of people and feel sad for them.  Sad they didn't have my collection and future.

Then I failed, and failed again.  I was shocked.  How was it possible?  What about my formulas, hard work and rule compliance?  Where was God?

It was a dark day filled with shame, that I drove my beloved Jeep Grand Cherokee, the mark of my imminent success, to the bank and parked it there.  I could no longer make the payments.

The problem with formulas is they are only as good as their application. I tried to indiscriminately apply success formulas in wrong ways and in wrong places.  I was foolish and naive.

I had been the top salesperson in a small software company, but I couldn't make the software company successful.  I applied one good formula (good salesmanship), when dozens of good formulas were required to succeed.  I thought I could sell enough products to make the company a success, but I was wrong.

I accepted jobs at companies with bad business models and drunkard bosses.  I thought I could achieve success despite the environment.  I was wrong.

I went to work for a start up software company that had big ambitions, but not the appetite for the required investment and risk.  I thought I could help them succeed purely through hard work, my super powers and long hours. I was wrong.

I said yes to every request, task, job and responsibility to prove myself and gain the approvals of my employers and employees.  I worked my way up the ladder to the position of CEO.  I thought I could do anything and everything myself.  I thought if only I worked hard enough and used my formulas I could conquer the world.  Limitations?  I had none that couldn't be overcome.  I was wrong.

I ended up at the doctor's office, suffering anxiety attacks, in poor health and a nervous wreck.  I had lost 16 lbs in a matter of weeks and hadn't slept in four days.  I had just resigned from my CEO position before I could be fired.

In my arrogance, I had expected and believed I deserved success.  Life owed it to me. God owed it to me.  I had worked hard, collected the formulas and applied them.  I had prayed for success.  I had asked for God's blessing!  I had followed the rules, applied the formulas, worked hard and encouraged God to keep pace with me.

I was deeply humiliated and embarrassed to tell friends and family about our situation.  We made up excuses not to go places where money was required.  I was filled with shame.  I had tried my very best and failed.  My life and work paradigms had collapsed. My personal mental, emotional and physical limitations, previously ignored now became crystal clear. I thought I was invincible, but had proved otherwise.

I remember looking out the window of my study and shaking my head in disbelief.  How could this have happened to me?  I was college educated, mentored, raised in a stable middle class and God fearing family. Yet with all these advantages I had failed.

Decades of War, Lawlessness and Brutal Violence

I remember wondering how a person born without my advantages and formulas could possibly succeed in America.  What if a person was born in a region of the world suffering from: wars, poverty, violence, endemic crime, sickness, institutionalized corruption, lack of education, food, health care, employment opportunities, dysfunctional political and economic environments? What if the person was traumatized from an early age by violence and abuse? How would this person possibly manage the complexities of life, education and career in America, when I, with all my advantages couldn't?

God had new plans.  I was out of a job, but my phone kept ringing and emails started pouring in. Software companies I knew kept calling me and asking for advice and help with projects.  Soon I was busy consulting full time, writing, speaking and running a small online publishing company.  It was not my plan.  After a few months, God blessed our new venture with success beyond our imaginations.  Shawna soon quit her job and joined me full time. Who would have thought or predicted this?

Kiziba Refugee Camp, Rwanda

In 2012 God knocked on our door and brought a refugee community into our lives.  He introduced us to families that had survived decades in war torn Africa. These impoverished families without a country of their own, arrived in Boise, Idaho traumatized, speaking different languages and confused. Some arrived in the middle of the Boise winter, wearing sandals and tropical clothing.  They walked out of the airport into blowing snow.

It is hard to imagine the challenges refugees face when they arrive in America from Africa.  Everything about America is different than their life in a refugee camp.  The language, culture, ethics, food, manners, etiquette, housing, concepts of time, expectations, scheduling non-stop meetings, riding buses and adjusting to the cold. The paper work is immense (all in English).  If you miss one box or line, you can miss out on food, housing, healthcare, language classes, etc.  There are vultures in America too. People that target new refugees and take advantages of them.

Often refugees arrive in America already suffering.  They are too weak physically and traumatized mentally to live the "American dream."  They are sick, exhausted, suffering from injuries, diseases and emotionally exhausted from years of war and violence.  It takes time to recover.  Ambitious energizer bunny volunteers, often have to slow down and learn that healing is required.

God introduced us to these traumatized survivors and said help them.  Assist them with life, school, healthcare, church, culture, transportation and work in America.  Welcome and mentor them. Because of our own experiences, anxieties and failures, we felt compassion for these families. We had empathy for their anxieties, confusion and fears.  We felt compelled to befriend them.

The first refugee family we became friends and mentors to had just become homeless in America. After surviving unspeakable horror and violence, starvation, fear and years of trauma in Africa, they won life's lottery ticket to come to America.  But when we met them they were homeless in America. I was to put it simply, angry.  How could we let this family that had suffered so much in the war zones of Africa come to America and freeze on the streets of Boise, Idaho. They had missed filling out the right paperwork, attending the right meetings and seeing the right experts.  They had fallen through the cracks and were without a home, money or winter clothes.

Settled in Boise, Idaho

It has been two-years now since we met them and many others. Our lives have been so much richer for it. Our family has now grown by dozens and our home is often overflowing with happy African children. This experience has brought us to a whole new level of joy and purpose.  We thank God for His infinite wisdom, grace, wisdom and guidance.

My business successes and failures, and the lessons I have learned are not wasted.  They are an important part of my story.  I learned that none of my success formulas were useful without wisdom and an understanding as to when to apply them and when to ignore them.  My days of dark introspection were followed by enlightenment.  My days of depending on my own skills and formulas have evolved into grateful dependence on God.  I now recognize and understand my talents and my limitations. Recognizing my own limitations freed me.  Freed me from trying to be what I am not, and allowing me to focus my energies on growing the talents that God has provided me and caring for others.

Jobless in Seattle

When our kids were young, we packed up and moved to Seattle seeking work.  I had been searching for months and we were broke.  We needed a job in the worst way.  I received an offer and we felt God had opened a door to a new career.

My new job, as an international commodity trader, started off well, but within weeks my new boss died in a drunken stupor and the company shut down the project I was working on.  I found myself out of work again.  I was crushed.  We had bet everything on the job working out.  We needed the income desperately.

I tried to keep my emotions in check until we got home, but I couldn't.  Tears spilled out and my voice cracked.  I wept with my little family in the car on a dark rainy freeway in the middle of evening rush hour.  I looked through my tears and rain splattered windshield at all the cars with drivers that were coming home from work, and going back to work in the morning. Work I was without. What kind of man can't support his family?  I was humiliated and filled will guilt and shame. I was pained by the anxiety my lovely wife did not deserve.

Our little family comforted each other as best we could, but we were frightened.  We were in need of love, community and support.  We needed hugs.  It was about this time that the local pastor of a church we had attended a few times came by for a visit.  He sat down on the couch smiling, welcomed us to the community, and then launched into a lengthy condemnation and shaming of my wife for wearing earrings, and for me as the husband, for allowing it.  This was one of the least successful welcomings I have ever experienced.  I doubt this technique is taught any longer in the Evangelism and Church Growth 101 class.

It was on that visit that we were clearly shown the depths of the chasm that separates religious dogma from Jesus' way.  The last thing in the world we needed at that moment in time, was condemnation and shaming for not supporting a prescribed set of religious dogma.  To this day we carry the pain and scars of that pastor's visit.

"I believe that the greatest trick of the devil is not to get us into some sort of evil, but rather have us wasting time.  This is why the devil tries so hard to get Christians to be religious.  If he can sink a man's mind into habit, he will prevent his heart from engaging God. ~ Donald Miller, Blue Like Jazz

Donald Miller and The Authentic Story

What story do you need to tell the world?  That is the question posed by writer and actress Susan Isaac at the Donald Miller's Storyline conference recently.  The answer - the story you cannot, not tell.  That's deep I know!  I had never before realized I had a personal story worth telling.  At least not one that could be told in public.  The story I was willing to share was will... false.  It was the story of my mask.

Kevin & Shawna with Donald Miller

It was at the conference, however, while reading Donald Miller's new book Scary Close (Awesome but not publicly available until early 2015), that I realized that my personal story, the one worth telling, is my authentic story.  The one I am too frightened to reveal. The page-turner Jesus reads!  The one that keeps Him on the edge of His heavenly seat/throne reading all night. Not the carefully edited, scrubbed versions I sell to those across the pew or on Facebook.

I learned truth is compelling.  It is filled with incredible suspense, adventure and struggles!  The stuff all good stories are made of! Just read authors like Jen Hatmaker, Glennon Melton or Shauna Niequist that are bestsellers and/or have tens of thousands of online readers.  They are often jaw-dropping authentic in their descriptions of life. They share their feelings, pains, mistakes, regrets, shames, fears and joys.  They drop their masks and the world says, "Me too! I have felt that pain.  I have made that mistake.  I have experienced that fear. I have felt that shame."

The notion of being authentic is alien to me.   It feels like leather shoes worn in the river and left in the sun to dry - uncomfortable!  Perhaps with time they will soften and fit.  I think it is that whole thing about being born with a sinful nature.  Our sinful natures are shameful and must be tamed and repressed, but not talked about or shared.  The problem is this is a major deal in our lives and it is off-limits!  How can we be authentic with friends when some of our biggest issues, challenges and battles are faced alone and in secret?

I learned early on that a mask has value.  It is an efficiency thing I think.  I wanted a certain desirable image that was rewarded in my fundamentalist community.  The mask portrayed the desirable image in bright colors. Behind the mask, I could hide my sinful nature, fears, flaws, weaknesses, temptations, insecurities, guilt and shame.  The mask worked.  It covered most of me and I wore it well.

The strange thing is, I wore my mask with pride.  I thought I wore it better than most.  I was skilled in the way of the mask.  The mask nearly became me like a grafted tree limb.  The unrecognized tragedy though, is you can't form close, authentic, loving and sincere relationships with masks.  The long term result of mask wearing is insincere politeness.  In a room full of mask wearers, there is a lot of small talk  going on.  Shallow and meaningless talk that avoids anything deeply personal or important.

I am pained by the memory of many lost friendships that slipped away as a result of my chronic mask wearing.

When I was newly married to Shawna, we lived up a long gravel driveway in a forest in Southwestern Washington.  We cut down trees, cleared our own land, burned the brush, built a road, and moved a used single wide trailer house onto the property like any respectable redneck would. During the summers we would often hike down a steep wooded trail to the river and walk in the cool waters to escape the brief summer heat.  All summer heat is brief in SW Washington.

Each year as the river waters receded, tunnels made by grumpy beavers were exposed in the muddy banks. These were not small tunnels. We lost dogs in them.  The tunnels were lined with sticky grey clay that was ideal for molding. We smeared the clay all over our faces and bodies.  Oh the crazy things newlyweds do!  It was like finding a limitless supply of Play-Doh in your backyard with no mother around to spank you for grinding it into the carpet! We formed bulging foreheads, elongated ears, horns, bulbous noses, etc. We would slap on the grey oozing clay and leave the mask to bake in the sun.

Before becoming a refund (a recovering-fundamentalist) and learning about authenticity, I always had a mask close by.  Sadly I believed it was my mission in life to wear and promote masks, and to invite others to wear them as well. In my mind, a perfect world was everyone wearing a mask just like mine.

My school friends were smarter than I.  Unfortunately, I didn't set the mark high.  They saw right through the hypocrisy of mask wearing and walked away.  They didn't see mask wearers modeling joy filled authentic lives overflowing with vibrant and thriving friendships. Lives that embraced the full spectrum and scale of human emotions and God gifted spirituality.  Mask wearers cannot experience those things in their fullness.  My friends sought and found authenticity elsewhere.

When you wear a mask that looks like everyone elses, no one is interest in it. No one buys movie tickets to see a sequel to a boring movie.  The mask prevents our incredibly interesting authentic stories to be heard.

I still feel uncomfortable without my mask, but I've got good stories to tell and write now!  At times though, I still find myself reaching for the mask, not the whole mask, but a half a mask like the character in the Phantom of the Opera.  Masks are hard to leave.

One of the activities in Donald Miller's Life Plan workbook is to review your life and identify the major ups and downs you have experienced.  You then study them for a life theme.  This was a challenge for me.  I think I have edited my life theme every day since I began.  I keep finding myself writing themes for masks, rather than my authentic life.  Authenticity is a habit I am still forming.  It will take some time.