The Hunger Games...

last week one of my students suggested i read this book called: the hunger games. its the first in a series of three. the following is what's been floating around in my head since i read the first two (3rd one comes out on july 25th and i personally can't wait).

WARNING*SPOILERS AHEAD*

at some point in the future what used to be north america has split into 12 districts. the districts live in varying degrees of poverty. and they all wait anxiously for the annual "hunger games". there used to be 13 districts but then district 13 tried to revolt against the capitol because they were tired of living stripped of their freedom. to remind the rest of the districts what happens when someone tries to start a revolution the capitol came up with the games. each year, each district is forced to send 2 tributes to the capitol: one boy and one girl between the ages of 12 and 18. there they will compete in a battle to the death with the other tributes. the winner, wins food for their district.

this story grabbed me right from the beginning. i'm not going to go into the obvious reasons i loved this book. of course there was great plot, good characters and a love triangle that shows twilight for the soul sucker that it is. but that's just the frosting. i want to express here what grabbed my heart about this book. but bear with me because i'm not sure i quite know how to explain it.

there was this emotion that was bubbling under the surface but i couldn't name it until i was halfway through the second book: catching fire; ANGER. real, strong, surprising anger.

i've spent most of my life living in a world that lets me read what i want to read, or watch what i want to watch. i'm allowed to say what i want to. there's no one forcing me to marry or holding me back from being anything i want to be. and on an even more basic level there's always more than enough food on my table and a warm bed to climb into at night. this book created a world where those things don't exist. it spun a society where 12 year olds are turned into killers, fighting for the chance to feed their families. and even though its fiction, even though we read it and exclaim, "how awful, that would never happen here!" its happening somewhere.

i've seen enough of this planet we live on to know that not everyone lives as comfortably as i do. i've seen what real hunger looks like. i've smelled the desperation one has when trying to feed their families. i walked with women who were beaten down and trodden on. i've spoken with people who genuinely fear for their lives while they pray or sing or read. it happens. it is happening.

and what am i doing about it? the more i pages i read of this story the more i was reminded of this warrior that lives in me. this woman who would travel any distance and give up anything to love. but the warrior's been asleep for years now. i send money to causes i care about and am satisfied with my contribution. but that's not really fighting anything. it makes a dent, it helps, but it isn't a fight. it doesn't cost me anything.

i'm tired of reading about bombings and disease and racism and persecution and ignorance. i'm tired of watching teenagers on mtv complain about their sweet 16 party while teenagers in the congo are fighting for their lives. i don't want to trivialize hunger. i don't want to underestimate fear. i believe that the God who knit me together in my mother's womb knit together everyone else too. i believe that the inheritance that awaits me can be yours. i believe that my skin color, the country stamped on the front of my passport, the amount of money i have in my bank account don't mean that i'm better than anyone else. i want to show my children's children that i helped carry the weight of the world on my shoulders. because someone's got to carry it and i think the burden is lighter when we share.

the hunger games made me hungry. it made me hungry for change, for possibility. it made me hungry to see us treat each other with respect. i've got a few ideas about how to make that happen permeating around in my brain. i'll let you know when something concrete hits.

filling out the picture...

it was 2003 when i first became rachel thom's leader. she was in the very first small group i ever led and she was my very first "special project". which basically just means that she stole my heart from the beginning. rachel was stubborn, loud, silly, compassionate, sensitive, creative, and tenacious. so really its a wonder that she wasn't everybody's "special project".

In 2009 my family looked like this:

and although this family picture is amazing and has some of the best people in it. it's missing something... i think it's missing this face:

my brother agrees because last weekend he proposed and i couldn't be more thrilled. i'm finally getting to add to that picture. and in adding to family i think its important to have someone who loves God, someone who is courageous and smart and funny. i think you have to have someone who loves to play and doesn't mind getting their hands dirty. so it's lucky we get rachel, because she is all that and more.

daddy fix it...

when we're children nothing seems too impossible for mom and dad. as children we trust completely that every broken toy can be mended. we believe that a lost blankey will be found. and perhaps the phrase uttered the most is: 'fix it'. i'm not sure at what point i stopped saying that. but somewhere along the line my problems seemed too big for my mom and dad. as i grew up i didn't want them to know that i'd broken something or lost something.

for example my sophmore year of high school, the big trend was adias shoes. but not the regular black with white stripes. no, if you were really cool you had white ones and some sort of colored stripe. that's right baby! i remember begging and pleading to get a pair. i finally, finally wore mom down and she took me to the mall. i found the perfect pair. they were crisply white with berry colored stripes. no one i knew had berry and i was sure i'd be the envy of my class. monday morning i showed up with my new kicks, feeling good. when gym came i changed in the locker room and then left my shoes on the bench in front of my gym locker. i used to do that with my old sneakers every day and it was never a problem. but when i came back to change after gym my shoes were gone. i was devestated. but i never told a single person. i didn't want my mom to know that i'd left my shoes out.

i've been thinking about this a lot lately. this is what i do with God. when i was in YWAM i didn't think there was a single problem on the planet God couldn't fix. and even if i was embarassed to admit something, i didn't let that stop me from falling at his feet. i wanted Christ more than i wanted to be right. I wanted Christ more than I wanted self respect or pride or hurt or whatever. but somewhere along the line I've stopped saying, "fix it".

so today i'm trying to remember something important. today i'm trying to remember that my Abba can do big things. He can part the seas and move mountains and raise the dead. i'm not going to stop myself from reaching out for His help. He's big enough to fix it.

the pull...

one of my students asked me the other day why i care so much. she said something along the lines of: "chels you know you cry a lot, right? don't you think things would just be much easier if you didn't care quite so much? it probably would hurt a lot less when people disappointed you, if you didn't have any expectations for them."

now i firmly believe that a huge reason she was saying this was that we were in the middle of a discussion regarding my expectations for HER. so, probably if she wasn't getting a patented "chelsea-lecture" she wouldn't have said anything at all. but her point was well taken. she's right. so i started thinking about it. here's what i came up with:

i believe that God has created each of us in His image. i know that's a term that gets thrown around a lot, so let me tell you what i think it means. i think when God was busy painting the stars He was thinking about me. He was molding canyons and designing mocking birds. and He was also dreaming up His little girl: Chelsea Lee. Because God loves us so much, He wants to express that. in each of us He gives differently. if you read my blog then inevitably you've come across a post or two about the people i love and why i love them. i think those qualities are direct expressions of God's love for us.

when God was busy contemplating my qualities i think He knew He'd have to temper my pride, He'd need something that softened my tongue, and of course He knew that someday i would be hampered by my fear. So as He thought of those things, He came up with something to help pull me closer to Him and His will: my heart. God created me to love fiercely. its true that i care too much. and that caring often leads to heartbreak. when i think of the babies that i left in africa- i'm shattered. when i remember my friends who no longer walk with God i know i'm not whole. when i see someone broken and hurting and alone, all i want to do is hold them. i read the paper or see the news and i just want to get a giant microphone and scream, "stop hurting each other! stop competing and arguing. stop trying to put yourself first at someone's else's expense!"

all of those hurts are painful. my heart beats wildly for God's people and that means there are so many times when i feel let down. i know that my tears and my screams and my prayers are never enough, they will never be enough.

but if i'm honest (and i'm always honest on this blog) then i must say, i wouldn't have it any other way. i love to love. i love to know that when i am at my best my heart beats in time with God's. and that is an intimacy like no other.

here's what i've been up to lately...

who told you, you were naked?

REWIND video: Adam- Be Loved and Be Sick

watch this today!

creative juices...

during my time as an English major there were moments when we were asked to complete a "SreamofConciousness" writing. this was designed to help us clear out all the goop getting in the way of the creative process. and sometimes it managed to bring about a tidbit that would turn into a great story or character name or poem or something... well today i find myself unable to focus. my brain's all goopey. so i thought i'd try a SOC writing here. maybe it'll clear me out. the following is just what comes out for the next 20 minutes:

my brain hurts. i don't have a headache, more like an explosion. i think i store too much up there. trying, always trying to categorize and plan and hide and be strong. sometimes i think the greatest thing in the world would be to stand on a table in front of all my friends and family and just start revealing all the stuff i try so hard to hide. it would be glorious and at the same time the most horrible moment of my life. i wonder who would still love me after that? i wonder what people think about me. i mean obviously i can guess some of it. but i want to know what they really think. i want to know if they're as hard on me as i am. oh! you know what else i want? grapes. i want grapes so freaking bad right now. i really should remember to bring the lunch i pack when i go to work. i miss jr. year of college. it was so fun to walk back from class and have lunch with the girls. i think family dinners were the best then. i loved how before we moved into that old house we spent tons of time making plans for it and then we never followed through with any of those. brey and nicole were going to plant a garden in our backyard and patrick and i wanted to paint. we even went as far as to get paint chips. but we just left that old house as gross and falling down as it was when we got there. its so ironic to me that that's the place where our heat went out and shan and tracy had that invasion of ants and we had no dishwasher or even really a couch. but that was the place where i laughed the most and felt the safest and the most loved. that was a house that was full of purpose and joy and adventure. we just felt free to really LIVE there. and we didn't try so hard to hide. like when we got in a snowball fight with the guy's house and they were better at making snowballs so we started throwing old newspapers at them. i am literally laughing out loud right now. my toes are cold. i wonder if any kiddos are gonna show up to high school group tonight. i'm torn between wanting them to come and wanting to get some real catch up time with dylan. dylan's amazing. the absolute best. now i'm concerned the people that read my blog are going to think dylan's a boy and that i'm in love with 'him'. dylan's a girl. and i'm not in love with her- just for the record. do you think people realize the promises their making to God when they sing worship songs? i need to respond to haley ballast's blog post from yesterday. i have lots and lots of thoughts. ok my 20 minutes is almost over. which is good because i'm not really sure what else i want to write.... uh... i love Glee.