Ten Dollars, Presidential Debates...and "Possible" Genocide.

As I was transporting dishes, from being cleaned, back to their homes, I was asked an interesting question:

Is Ten Dollars a lot of money to you?"

Confusingly stumbling over my words, I tried to explain that ten dollars was a fair amount of money. I wasn't really sure how to put it in the context of a lot or a little. I hate being wishy-washy.

10 i-tunes; A smidgin over an hour's wages

Then I remembered Mozambique. Ten Dollars goes a lot further there.

Enough water for 10 years; 260 pieces of bread; 40 pineapples

And I don't say this to convict any of you, because when I look at myself, I realize that I surely don't look at 10 dollars for what it is. I don't know if it is even fair to compare the two situations. In the very least, I hope I can look at this and remember what they go through on a regular basis.

They fish. They play with my used Fanta can. They eat rice everyday. They die from diseases of which they have no solid understanding. They adhere to religions they don't care about. They dance. They sing. They hurt. They could buy water for less than ten cents a month, but cannot always afford it.

And I question the value of money.

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I am currently planning a showing of Photographs from, and Art inspired by this most recent trip to Mozambique. I’ve set up a tentative date in my mind for Sunday, July 22nd, in the foyer of the church that is Ellensburg Christian and Missionary Alliance. I’ll make some announcements when this date is solidified.


Above: A slight flavor-taste of painting #1. This is just a small portion of the entire painting #1.


I plan on selling the photographs and paintings. I’ve never sold art. God has placed it on my heart to give a significant portion of any proceeds back to the Mozambicans. I’m in the process of finding a Christian Organization that is working with HIV and AIDS in Quelimane, the city where my team and I spent most of our time in Mozambique.

In the meantime, I need to find some synthetic fur to make some synthetic zebra stripes.

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I watched some of the Presidential Debates tonight. I was intrigued.

I don’t know who makes the questions for these shows, but I was scared to see that whoever does make the questions still questions whether or not the Genocide in Darfur is really Genocide.

I’m comforted by the fact that the course of our country, the course of our world, is not in the hands of politicians or kings or rebellious/brainwashed militiamen, all of whom are just as much in need of grace as I; things are in God’s hands, and his hands are giant. Read Colossians 1. More precisely verse 16.

Let’s pray.