Dear older ladies,

First off, do not be offended—by “older” I mean older than me and my friends—not old. Trust me, I’ve been well-trained by my mother that old is at least 10 years older than your current age.

“I just want to age gracefully,” mom says. I’m so lucky to have her as my primary example of godly femininity and she definitely continues to model this as she gets older. Not old. OLDER.

But many women my age and younger don’t have such a great role model, and even those of us who do could benefit from relationships with more than one. I’m writing to ask you to consider committing a few hours each week or even each month for this important job.

As women’s mentoring ministries have hammered into our brains for years, The book of Titus teaches this. And if you want to join or launch a “Titus 2″ group to match older and younger women, that would be a great start. But you don’t have to create anything formal or enlist other volunteers to begin making a difference for the women in my demographic—just choose one or two of us and initiate a relationship.

I know, that’s scary, but if you wait for us to approach you it will never happen. Although I’ve asked a few women to serve as mentors in my life, most of us don’t know we need help—or, if we know, we don’t realize we can ask.

And do we ever need it. We’re raising kids, raising step kids, trying to get pregnant, trying not to get pregnant. We’re reading “What to Expect When You’re Expecting” because we have no mother, big sister or aunt to clue us in. We’re choosing between homemaking and working outside the home and most of us are trying to do both, in houses with more convenience features than ever before that somehow we still can’t manage to keep clean. No one ever taught us to mend a hem or sew on a button. We can create websites from scratch but not a loaf of bread. We’re working in offices filled with men and holding our own (although still receiving less pay, but whatever). We’re looking at our marriages and wondering if we made the right choice and if we can make this last another forty years and if we want to and if we’re bad people when we don’t.

We need you—your wisdom, your sense of humor, your perspective, your practical help. We don’t expect the answer to every life question; we know we’re facing more choices than any previous generation of women, but we also know the important principles behind making those decisions haven’t changed. Some long-term coaching would be so helpful as we try to figure it all out.

Besides, there are still young women walking around in tube tops. Until every last one of us dresses attractively but modestly, consider yourselves on retainer. Because living gracefully applies to every age, young and old. I mean, older.

Jen

I’m guessing at least 50% of you attended a “Harvest Party” or “Trunk-n-Treat” at your church last month, and at least 25% more attend a church that held one.

Which is all fine, as far as it goes, although I take issue with two of the most commonly given reasons for these sugar-fests: that they provide a safer alternative to traditional trick or treating, and that they are a powerful outreach activity to the community.

Although some local news stations still dust off the razor-blades-in-the-apples story each October, Snopes.com disproved every instance of candy tampering ever reported in conjunction with Halloween. It’s just a myth—as is, most likely, the adult who actually gave apples.

These events also fail to reach our communities. Lots of people may show up and the church might receive some good press. A few families may even return for a weekend worship service because of the experience they have on your campus—although I’d bet a Snickers bar your church doesn’t know if that’s happening. Meanwhile, we spend hundreds of hours and thousands of dollars recruiting volunteers, organizing games, and haranguing church members for candy donations.

Or there’s Christmas. I don’t have the Snopes link to prove it, but do you know anyone who became a Christian because of a Christmas cantata? Usually the audience for such things is comprised of the family and friends of those in the choir, most of whom are already believers. (This is doubly true for children’s programs.) Again, the investment of time and energy  is out of all proportion to the spiritual ROI.

If we really want to show love to our neighbors at Halloween, we could follow the example of my own parents, who make a big pot of apple cider, park themselves in lawn chairs at the bottom of their driveway, and give cups of the hot drink to every tired, cold parent who comes along with his tiny princess/pirate/Disney character. They talk to their neighbors, serve them in a small way, extend friendship, and ooh and aah over little people in costumes. (They give candy, too, the good stuff—kids aren’t excited about cider.)

Or, like Journey Christian Church, we could organize a “Light Night” and challenge members to creatively transform their homes into places of light and welcome on this traditionally dark evening. My fellow blogger Arron, who serves as senior minister at Journey, says the church offered a variety of ways for people to participate (set up games or bounce houses, make popcorn or cotton candy, host costume contests, and–yes!–give out hot cider). Members were encouraged to distribute info about Journey’s programs for kids and copies of the Gospel of John along with the candy.

At Christmas, what if we asked church members to spend Wednesday night having dinner with a non-Christian neighbor instead of attending choir practice with lots of already-Christians? What if, instead of lining the sanctuary with video cameras to capture Junior’s debut as wiseman #3, we opened our homes for Advent parties for all our kid’s friends?

I’m really not lecturing—there’s more I can do in this area, too. But let’s be honest—we do Fall Fests and Christmas pageants because these things make us feel good. If we really wanted to serve and reach non-Christians, we’d be doing something else.

Moving day, more than any other day, makes you keenly aware of how much junk you really own.

On Saturday my mom and dad and some good friends helped me (finally) move into my new house, a process that involved carrying roughly 3,267 boxes of stuff plus two couches, three chairs, a desk, four bookshelves, an iron bed frame and the heaviest dining room table ever made. As I do every time I move (this was the fifth one in eleven years), I found myself amazed at how much I’ve accumulated—14 antique china place settings and three matching salad plates (Grandma was prone to dropping things). Dozens of books I fully intend to read. Half-used hair products. Barbie dolls with complete outfits. The original packaging for Standard’s 1984 VBS craft kit featuring my smiling face.

So, some seriously good stuff. 

And I wondered again, for at least the fifth time, if it’s wrong to have so much when most of the world has so little.

I’ve written about this before, and reading a blog post by Steve Denney stirred up the same questions. He quotes from Peter Singer, who asserts that while all of us would rush into a pond to save a drowning toddler without hesitating to worry about ruining our nice shoes, many of us struggle to metaphorically “wade in” and help save the 10 million children under five who die from poverty each year.

“Prompted by the pages of Singer’s book, it just seems wrong that I buy bottled water when I can get it from the tap,” Steve writes. “That I waste money on coffee.  That I throw away food that I cannot eat (or don’t want to eat).”

I’m reminded of Schindler’s List, when the war ends and Oskar Schindler realizes every belonging he kept—each ring, each car, each suit—could have rescued another Jew from the death camps. When I watch that movie I condemn him; of course he should have sold the gold ring and flashy car to save more people. When lives are at stake, shouldn’t someone give all he can?

Steve’s point is people still die, and we face the same choices. Shouldn’t we give all we can?

But if I get rid of everything, I’ll be poor and others will have to take care of me. So that’s not the answer. Do I keep just enough to live on and give away the rest? Define “live on”—what does that include? Rice and beans and a vitamin pill, or can I have steak and ice cream occasionally? How often? Yes, coffee IS a necessity, but how about soda? One a week?

What about health insurance and retirement savings? I trust God to take care of me, but often He does that by allowing me to plan responsibly.  Is it a sin to live modestly yet keep megabucks in my IRA?

The real question is when “enough” becomes excess. We all spend money on non-essentials, and it’s easy to judge others. Some could see my move as an acquisitional move up, although my new mortgage payment is actually less than my rent and in many ways this purchase was about good stewardship. On the other hand, a few of my friends recently sold their own houses, downsized to rentals or condos, and give the difference to causes they care about.

Like Steve, I have become increasingly aware of just how much money I waste. But with each passing year, each passing move, I also become convinced this is one more gray area in a faith we often prefer black and white. Enough becomes too much when it becomes more important than obedience to Christ, and He asks each of us to sacrifice in different ways. I’m glad He hasn’t asked me to give up coffee yet.

Some problems are so overwhelmingly big. How can I, just one small person, address the physical, spiritual, and educational needs in Africa? How can I preserve what’s left of the beautiful world God created? How can I get all reality TV off the air?

Human trafficking is another one of these issues. According to Kevin Bales’ book Disposable People, 27 million people around the world endure forced labor as slaves. According to UNICEF, more than 2 million children are exploited in the global commercial sex trade each year. And according to the U.N., the total market value of human trafficking is over $32 billion. That means slave traders make more money than Google, Nike and Starbucks combined.

So, no, I can’t fix this myself. But as with poverty and AIDS in Africa, the pollution of our oceans, or the new season of Real Housewives, we can all do something: Sponsor a child. Invest in a microloan. Turn off the TV.

And shop! Yesterday Emily Hill launched Stop Traffick Fashion, a site filled with beautiful and very reasonably-priced bags, necklaces and earrings made by adults and children rescued from human trafficking. Your purchase guarantees you a unique accessory while supporting these workers; best of all, a percentage of all sales goes directly to STF’s partners to help rescue others.

Emily reads this blog and has kept me posted about this new initiative. I’m so impressed with her creativity and determination to make the world a better place. And I’m planning a meeting to see if we can do something about Jon & Kate.

I’ve been home a couple hours now, but I’m still smiling. Tonight I had the privilege of attending the end of year banquet for Christian Community Services Inc., an organization here in Nashville that helps underserved families become completely self-sufficient—that is, not relying on any form of assistance, government aid, or public housing. To accomplish this mission CCSI pairs mentors from Woodmont Hills Church of Christ and Schrader Lane Church of Christ with “mentees”—usually young single women, usually with a few kids—who commit to nine months of classes on budgeting, parenting, relationships, life skills, and finance. Tonight’s dinner honored this year’s 17 graduates.

I wrote about CCSI for a recent Christian Standard, and I encourage you to read the article to learn about the program’s other components: tutoring for the mentees’ children, relationship-building around shared weekly meals, individual development accounts that encourage and reward saving, and even ongoing support to help graduates become home buyers. It’s a program that could work in any city, and needs to receive more national attention for the immense good it’s doing in this one.

But I also encourage people to check out CCSI because of that curious word “underserved.” When I began researching the ministry and interviewing its staff, I appreciated the focus on personal responsibility and self-sufficiency, but didn’t understand how the families served by CCSI were under served in any way. To be frank, I thought what many of us, if we’re honest, sometimes think: they get our money for food stamps and welfare—sounds like they’re being served just fine.

I quickly learned why the term is so appropriate. In the words of Dr. Jones, minister at Schrader Lane and co-founder of CCSI, “Disenfranchised people do not set out to be that way. And they are not destined to stay that way. But to change the generational patterns, we must show them a better way.”

CCSI provides these students with information you and I may take for granted—why to save money, how to create a budget, why to avoid check advance stores, how to set boundaries in relationships, how to discipline children. With this knowledge, and the love and support of their mentor and the CCSI staff, these women completely change their lives, paying off thousands of dollars in debt, saving for their homes, revolutionizing their family lives, and ending the cycle of unhealthy or unproductive choices.

These women are “underserved” because at some point they missed out on opportunities to learn basic skills and foundational information. CCSI offers a second chance.

So tonight I sat with my new friend Ukela, a graduate and new homeowner who is now a paralegal, actress, model and author, and we cheered for all 17 graduates and for our table mate Angel who signed the papers for her new house at 9:00 this morning. LaTonya gave a great testimony about the difference CCSI made in her life, one of the Tennessee Titans (who’s very cute and who should date Ukela) shared some encouraging words, and, since none of us had the winning orange dot on our program, we made sure Angel got the centerpiece of yellow flowers to take to her new home. And I’m still smiling.

My years in California prevented me from developing geographical snobbery, that condition in which you assume your city/county/state has the corner on all things progressive and everywhere else is a barren wasteland. It’s a hobby along that coast; one California megachurch pastor (CMCP) actually told me Willowcreek grew to its current ginormity because “there’s nothing else to do out there. What’s in Illinois, yaks?” Yep, buddy, their church is just way bigger than yours because Chicago’s boring.

So I anticipated my first-ever visit to Nebraska with an open mind. However, already today I have….

–been called “doll” by two different men, each my age or younger.

–driven 17 minutes on a country road without seeing another car (I clocked it).

–spent three hours in a building Mapquest doesn’t have a record of.

–held a meeting in which one of the other participants sat across from me and knit a sweater.

And I don’t want to be negative, but let’s just say that if CMCP’s theory had any merit, the churches out here would make Southeast look like a small group.

Fortunately I am here on a good mission. I work part-time for Financial Planning Ministry, an organization that creates living trusts which allow couples and individuals to plan their estates, choose medical conservators, and name guardians for minor children. Unlike wills, living trusts avoid probate completely and free thousands of those dollars for gifts to family and ministry. And unlike wills or trusts prepared by an attorney, FPM offers a living trust at no cost; we simply ask each family to consider a gift out of their estate—when they’ve passed away and won’t care!—to one of our sponsors. More than 50 Christian churches and parachurches sponsor FPM and make its ministry possible.

So Christian families practice good stewardship with their lifetime accumulation of assets, Christian ministries receive a portion of those funds, and FPM offers a valuable service free of charge. It’s a great business model and a great organization, one I’m even willing to brave Nebraska for. Cornhuskers, I’ll be here all week—holler if you want to learn more about living trusts, practice condescending nicknames, or teach me to knit.

One of the less expensive fast food “value meals.”

Half an album on iTunes.

One fancy high-calorie drink at Starbucks.

That’s what $5 will buy you.

Lunch at Jersey Mike’s.

More of that iTunes album (but probably not all).

Two coffee drinks and maybe a cookie.

That’s what $10 will get you.

And the love of a new puppy, as we all know from Mastercard commercials, is priceless…..until this week when Milo, shown here ready to greet trick-or-treaters, was diagnosed with a congenital stomach problem that makes him very sick each time he eats and can only be corrected with surgery.

This is sad, yes, but animals get sick and pets die and, as we know from Disney commercials, it’s all part of the circle of life.

But here’s the deal: Milo’s owner, who is a friend of mine and also a staff member in one of our churches, has had an off-the-charts run of bad luck and unhappiness this past year. From her health (not great) to her parents (divorcing) to her boyfriend (emphasis on boy) to her house (costly repairs) not one area of her life has gone well.

Tonight she called me and said a lady at Bible study asked how things are going. When she quietly explained Milo’s new diagnosis, the lady said, “I can’t listen to this anymore. It’s too depressing.”

And in the midst of it all, despite coping with situations and dysfunctions caused by other people’s actions, she makes good choices, sets healthy boundaries, and keeps doing good for Jesus. She got Milo last fall as one more positive choice—a way to add happiness and joy to her life. Now he’s dying.

Bottom line? Milo can return to healthy puppyhood with a surgery that costs just $1500. I’m going to pay for at least $500. Would you pay for at least $5?

I don’t ask you for anything very often, and never for me (I believe the only time to date was to request help for Kinetic Church after a thief stole all their gear). And I don’t do it lightly. But while these aren’t easy times for anybody, they’re downright hard for Milo’s owner–and not just financially. Will you give up that greasy cheeseburger you shouldn’t eat anyway and help save her little puppy?

Milo will send each donor an autographed photo, after he gets back on his feet. And if he ever writes his memoirs, he’ll thank you in the introduction. In the meantime, I thank you now. Just click here.

I finally saw Slumdog Millionaire today; several critics (like this one and this one) are predicting big wins for the movie at tomorrow’s Academy Awards. From the great “acting” of the little boys (they aren’t actors, just poor Indian kids recruited for the roles) to the triumphant love story, it’s a wonderful movie. One review said, “The prospect of an uneducated orphan from the slums of Mumbai winning a pot of gold on a game show that hinges on worldly knowledge is, of course, the stuff of purest fairy tales.” Yes, it’s almost impossible to believe it could actually happen—then again, Slumdog’s own cast finds it hard to believe the movie is now a front-runner for major prizes tomorrow night. It just might win Best Picture, and I hope it does.

But what struck me while watching the film was not the acting, the cinematography, or even the irresistible music—it was the poverty. As my dad said on the drive home, the filth and disease of those Indian slums are replicated in every major city throughout the 2/3 world. A billion people around the globe scavenge for food, drink dirty water and wash their clothes in it, and accept lives of crime and prostitution just to get by.

That’s not news—you’ve heard all the statistics. Like me, maybe you even sponsor a child or write a check at the end of the year to help out in a small way and assuage your guilt over everything you can’t or don’t do.  And like me, perhaps you watched this movie and wondered why you won the cosmic spin of the wheel and so many others didn’t.

I’m no smarter, more talented, or more worthy than the young women in Mumbai, Uganda, or Lima. I don’t deserve overpriced junk food anymore than they deserve to live off garbage.  Why was I placed among riches when so many others beg for pennies?  Why do I get an easy life when so many others suffer? Or as Paul Williams wrote (and took a beating for) in one of his Christian Standard columns, “Would someone please help me locate the Scripture that defines such inequity as acceptable?”

The only answer I ever come back to is Luke 12. “From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded,” Jesus says, “and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked.”

I can’t fix global poverty by myself anymore than an Indian “slumdog” can win a zillion rupees—both are the illusion of feel-good movies. But my daily life seems like a fairy tale to much of the world, and the marching orders are clear. It’s time to get busy.

Here are some startling statistics: Americans spend $450 billion each Christmas, lack of clean water kills more people every day than any other cause, and the worldwide water crisis could be solved for just $10 billion. Starting with those facts, the Advent Conspiracy movement encourages people to spend time with loved ones instead of purchasing gifts and to give that money away in the name of Christ. AC partners with Living Water International to dig wells and provide clean water in Africa, India, and South America, and churches across the country are collecting special offerings this month to benefit Living Water.

Here are some more numbers to get your attention:  the amount of money spent just on candy, during just three months of the year, is more than the annual budgets of The American Cancer Society, The American Heart Association, and Habitat for Humanity combined. Redefine Christmas doesn’t ask you to stop all gift-giving or redirect your candy money toward clean water (although it does add a whole second layer of guilt to that Snickers bar, doesn’t it?). Instead, they urge you to give to family, friends, and charitable causes at the same time by donating to organizations reflecting the interests and passions of the recipient.

For instance, Jen Gherardi, a Christian Standard reader who wrote to tell me about Redefine Christmas, suggests you honor the parent or grandparent who read you countless bedtime stories with a donation to First Book or another charity dedicated to improving literacy and providing books to needy children. Your sister who loves to cook might be touched with a donation in her name to a ministry dedicated to alleviating hunger, your animal-loving brother would appreciate a gift to the ASPCA, and your best friend who adores So You Think You Can Dance could enjoy knowing you made a gift to the Alvin Ailey Dance Foundation. (If enough of us gave to that, these reality shows might eventually go off the air—and that’s what they mean by a gift that keeps on giving, folks.)

Redefine Christmas provides links to all these groups and hundreds more and provides a personalized card for you to announce each gift. You can also purchase gift cards for the recipient who might enjoy choosing her own charity and “gift baskets” with assortments of charities united by a topic like mentoring children, planting trees, or working for peace. The site even offers ecards for you to request donations to your own favorite organization in lieu of gifts for yourself.

My family stopped giving gifts to each other a few years ago. While I’d like to say this decision was driven by philanthropy, the more pressing reasons were the cost of buying them and the hassle of schlepping them around the country. (A holiday tip: If you ever have the opportunity to check a bag and fly the red-eye at 12:00 a.m. on Christmas Eve from LAX to Cincinnati, just……don’t.)

But it’s not too late to redirect some Christmas dollars toward improving the world, and this year I plan to join the conspiracy and redefine my Christmas by giving to a worthy cause. I may start with Alvin Ailey.

It’s easy to feel overwhelmed by the poverty and disease in Africa, and to wonder if normal two-name people (that is, the non-Bono and non-Oprah) can make any difference. A variety of complex factors created this crisis, and no one solution can fix everything. But microloans are a good way to start.

Microloans aren’t new, but they’ve gained new attention in recent years. Like so many good ideas, this one is simple: reputable organizations identify potential loan recipients in the developing world and share info about these folks with richer Americans, Europeans, etc. who then loan a few dozen or few hundred dollars. The recipient uses this money to start a small business (like a food market, general store, or transportation business) and eventually repays the loan in full. The rich American can then loan the money to another 2/3 world entrepreneur, theoretically repeating the cycle indefinitely and using the same money to give freedom and dignity to many different people.

Microloans also help prevent the spread of HIV; many recipients are women and the income generated from their small businesses dramatically reduces the likelihood they’ll barter their bodies for food. (One recent study in Botswana and Swaziland reports women who lack sufficient food are 80% more likely to engage in “survival sex.”)

It takes so little money to lower that percentage–for the cost of a nice restaurant meal you can help someone eat well for a long time. And although most of us could easily afford to give that amount outright, the recipients almost always repay the loans in full.

Alice Mbithe is in that category. Despite only receiving a primary school education, she’s successfully run her own small grocery business for years to supplement her husband’s income. As I type, this sweet lady is using the money my brother, sister-in-law and I loaned her to set up a fruit and vegetable stand that will support her family of five, pay hospital bills, and provide medication for her youngest daughter.

We connected with Alice through Christian Missionary Fellowship. Their microenterprise program provides a 27-hour training course for prospective microloan recipients (covering everything from bookkeeping and saving to integrity and faithfulness) and coordinates weekly meetings for accountability and support. Loans range from $8 to $400 and the program already has 190 clients.

I make part of my living writing advertising copy, so I try to avoid the trite. But I have to say it: while no one, even Bono, can change the world alone, you can change one person’s world. And it’s a blast.