by chris | May 27, 2012 | Blogs |
Did you know that Honduras is the murder capital of the world? They have 82.1 murders per 100,000 residents. Compare that to 5.5 murders per 100,000 residents in Florida. How does that make you feel? Anything at all? Perhaps you were like me and for a second said to yourself, “Wow! That’s crazy!” Yesterday I was talking to my close friend from college. He lives in Honduras. I asked him, “What’s it like in Honduras?” He said, “It’s the murder capital of the world.” I said, “Wow! That’s crazy!” My buddy then said, “Yeah. Just Google Honduras Murder Capital and you’ll see it all.” So, sitting in front of my computer I Googled “Honduras Murder Capital”. Here are some of the headlines I found on Google: Honduras: murder capital of the world Instability in Honduras Honduras: A Violence, Repression and Impunity Capital of the World Peace Corps pullout hits Honduras, world’s murder capital As I was reading through these headlines on my computer my buddy was painting the picture for me. He said there was a time when he showed up to the airport 30 minutes after 6 people had been shot right there in the airport. The bodies laid there uncovered for 2 hours before being tended to. Another time my buddy was walking past the French Embassy at 3 pm in the afternoon when two kids rolled up on their bikes. They pulled out their handgun, pointed it at his head and asked for his phone. My buddy talked about the death and government corruption he is surrounded by. Something very interesting was...
by chris | May 19, 2012 | Blogs |
Yesterday I was in King Soopers. I had one mission. To quickly and without much thought check off a to-do on my productivity list. One of my to-do’s this day was to pick up several days worth of rice and beans. My thought process minutes before – while sitting in my car – was this: – Take check to the bank and deposit it. – Run into King Soopers to grab rice and beans. – Stop by gas station to fill up with gas. You see I made a 25 day commitment to eat only rice and beans when someone donates $25 to provide 100 school meals to chronically hungry children through the world food program. With my commitment, I made the choice to give up the privilege I have in life to eat what I want to eat, when I want to eat it, and how much of it I want to eat. As I was in King Soopers heading towards the rice and beans isle, I began to ponder about all the food I would be able to eat when my 25 days was up. As I turned the corner to head down the isle toward the beans, fate introduced me to the man who talked to himself. He was a tall, frail, black man. He appeared to be in his late 60’s to early 70’s. He had a thin, scruffy, gray beard and a face that seemed to tell the story of a rough journey in life. As I got closer to this man I realized he was talking to himself. I also realized he was...
by chris | May 13, 2012 | Blogs |
It’s a question I’ve wrestled with my entire life. After spending 13 years in the military I was always led to believe that projecting strength is always the answer. Come to think of it I can’t recall one time in my military career where I was ever encouraged to show weakness as a sign of strength. This question has surfaced from time-to-time in my life, but never more real than it has over the course of the last 7 days. Only being able to eat a meal of rice and beans when someone else contributes $25 that provides 100 school meals to children through the World Food Programme is a humbling experience. Having to ask for a $25 contribution and then count on a yes answer in order to eat can be unnerving. In fact it has been. What if I’m told no? What if my request is ignored? What if I’m faced with the rejection of silence? What then? I am only beginning to imagine what the 300 million chronically hungry children of the world are living through day-in-and-day-out. I mean, I’m only living this reality for 25 days. After that I have the option of going back to choosing all the comforts I had access to before these 25 days started. But the children… … they don’t have that option. It’s not part of their reality like it is mine. It’s not something they hope for like I do because for them it’s not real. As I was reading through a passage in Compassion by Nouwen, McNeill, and Morrison I was struck by this thought about the...
