acres of hope

I often find myself in this paralyzing fear of being wrong. Saying the wrong thing, doing something that will bother someone, not doing something that I'm supposed to do, not being smart enough, not having the right answer, even though sometimes there is no specific right answer at all. Why do i struggle so much with just being myself? Why am I so afraid to be seen or heard? Am I afraid that I will be misunderstood? Or am i afraid that I will be really seen?
Why have i been so consistently paralyzed by this fear? Why am I afraid to really be myself?

No more, I am tired of this insecurity. I know that growing away from it is a slow process and I will always be learning, but I will not stop growing. I refuse to hide from who I am. I will embrace myself the way that the Lord has created me. If I am not condemned by Him, how then should I condemn myself? I will not. I will learn to be joyful about being the Workmanship of the Living God. I have made mistakes and I am not done with making them. I am a sinner. A sinner saved only by grace and my past, present, and future have been reconciled with the Lord through the blood of Christ.

Looking back on the road so far
I see the journey's left it share of scars
Mostly from leaving the narrow and straight

Looking back it's clear to me
That a man is more than the sum of his deeds
And how You've made good of this mess I've made
Is a profound mystery

Looking back you know You had to bring me through
All that I was so afraid of
Though I questioned the sky, now I see why
Had to walk through rocks to see the mountain view
Looking back I see the lead of love

Looking back I can finally see
How my failures bring humility
Brings me to my knees
Helps me see my need for Thee

Though I questioned the sky, now i see why
Had to walk through rocks to see the mountain view
Looking back I see the lead of love


Looking back over the course of my life, and even over my semester and my year, I can definitely see that the journey has left it's share of scars. Scars from doubting the beauty of God's plan for me, scars from denying His mercy, scars from hating myself. Scars on my arms and scars on my heart. For so long, I have seen these scars and been so ashamed of my sin. Covered in guilt, refusing to truly accept the grace in which I am called to stand, my scars became a visible reminder of my sin. I saw them as a way to constantly tell myself that I was nothing but a screw-up.
A friend once told me to see my scars differently. At the time, i didn't fully understand how that could happen, or what he even meant by that. Now, weeks close to a month later, I can grasp this concept more fully. Looking back, even over my scars, I see the lead of love. My failures are failures indeed, but they have helped me to see my need for the Lord. The have brought me to my knees and therefore closer to His side. Christ has brought me through, and I can see how walking through the rocks has produced a mountain view. Guided by the lead of love, Christ has brought me through it all. Even the times when left His path, Christ did not leave me. I have been led by His hand into this Grace in which I now Stand. Unashamed, Uncondemned, Accepted and Loved.

child labor has stained my chocolate red

Chocolate. Smooth, sweet, creamy, tasty. Eat it when you're bored, frustrated, happy, and whatever else. Chocolate just makes everything better! The ultimate cure-all, how can you eat chocolate without smiling? Ice cream, cake, candy, brownies, frosting, cookies, muffins, pancakes...everything is better with chocolate. A little cocoa and the world smiles. Well, America smiles. Europe smiles. Developed countries smile. Corporations smile. Hershey's smiles. M&Ms smiles. Nestle smiles. Smiles, Smiles all around! Chocolate is so good! Can there be anyone left unhappy? Anyone? Anyone?
Wait do i hear a cry? Is someone protesting? Not possible! Who would protest against something so good? Something so sweet! And yet, someone is protesting! Inconceivable, and yet, i see a hand raised in objection. I see this hand, hear a cry. What can this voice be saying? What could possibly be wrong? Why is there a measure of pain in the tone of his cry? Why is his hand straining to reach higher, wavering in the attempt to be seen? No one wants to answer him. His voice is begging for acknowledgment, but it will cost to much to answer him. So much easier to ignore to cry of a child. So much easier, so that is what we have learned to do. All across the western world. That is what we have learned to do. Turned away from the child who begs our attention, we have never learned what caused his protest. We could have learned and changed and grown from the lessons in his voice, but we would've had to put away our old way of doing things. Mhmm. Too much work. Too much sacrifice. To be asked to consider our impact on others? To be asked to live our everyday lives in such a way as to reduce the harm that we are causing around the world? To be asked to lay down our rights? We have the right to buy what we want. Eat what we want. It's not a our job to take care of these problems all around the world. Let someone fix them. It's not our job.

The cry of protest echoes from the voices of hundreds of thousands of children trapped on cocoa farms in western Africa, Brazil, and Indonesia. Trafficked from other countries, sold by their parents, put to work by their family members, these children work from dawn to dusk picking cocoa beans, 400 of which only equal one pound of chocolate. Harvesting with machetes, spraying plants with harmful chemicals that will cause sores on their skin and make them sick, they don't have any choices. Abused and enslaved, they will work and work and work for little or no money. More cocoa beans, more, more, they can never pick enough to get out of the cycle. They harvest the cocoa that makes the chocolate that makes us smile. They don't understand our happiness, but it could just be because they don't have any chocolate to help make them happy. They have never tasted the final product of their lifetimes of labor. Oh well. We have the chocolate. It tasted good. What else matters?

The guilt sets it lightly....
A solution? A solution? Let it be named! Let us hear the answer! What can we do? This situation is bad, we should do something......Stop buying this chocolate??? Stop buying and consuming chocolate made of the bloodied backs of children struggling to survive so far away from the mansions of our homes? Not good enough. We like this chocolate. We have a right to eat it! We bought it! Never mind the cost it came at.
Fair trade chocolate? What is this? Chocolate farmers paid an equal exchange for their products so that they can hire legitimate labor? No children harmed? But wait, this is more expensive!! Reducing the cost to the child who cries in protest, it has raised the price for us! That's not acceptable! We can't afford to buy this more expensive chocolate! Why would we pay so much more for this when other chocolate is cheaper and easier to buy? Ehhhh....ethics. No. It's not our job to fix the problems of the world. Let someone else take care of them. It's not our job.