Ignorance Doesn't Change the World

Wasn’t it easier in the lunchbox days?

Always a bigger bed to crawl into?

Wasn’t it beautiful when you believed in everything?

Everybody believed in you?

‘Innocent’ – Taylor Swift

Sometimes,

I wish that I could go

Back to the days

When

My biggest decision

Was who to invite to my birthday party

Or which OPI Nail Lacquer to buy

And

My biggest prayer request

Was that I would 

“Do well” in my exam or presentation.

When

My biggest problem

Was an unfair teacher

Or conflicting social events.

When

My biggest worry

Was that I wouldn’t get a date to the prom

Or be accepted to a good college

And

My biggest spiritual hurdle

Was how to “Be a witness”

To my friends who

(gasp)

swore.

The days

When

I could buy a product without

Wondering

About the the people who made it

(fair trade)

(sweat shops)

(chemical exposure)

(child labour)

(conflict minerals)

And therefore become

Conflicted

Myself.

The days

When

Having a crush on a boy

Meant I never had to

Actually

Talk to him.

The days

Before I started thinking critically.

The days

Before I left my “bubble.”

The days
Before I learned
That believing in God
Can be hard sometimes.
Before I wondered
What Jesus really meant
When He said,
"Follow Me."

The days

Before I watched the news.

Before I interacted with the oppressed.

Before I saw people’s spiritual wounds.

Before I experienced a world of unnecessary suffering.

Before I knew heartbreak.

Before I recognized my privilege.

Before I asked questions.

Things were easier in the lunchbox days.

These days are hard,

And sometimes they hurt.

But I believe they are worth it.

I guess it's true what they say,

That

Ignorance is bliss.

But ignorance doesn’t

Change the world.


And it won't change me, either.

Thanking my Pride

“We have a run on March 4, Jeni.  It is not compulsory, but I am telling you that you must do it.”  That was the primary trainer at the gym on February 15.  I hadn’t been to the gym for 2 ½ weeks.  I hadn’t run since June.  I explained this and asked if she thought I could. “yes, yes, you have been quite regular here, you can.”  Hm.  Thanks Sumitra, but 5 minutes on the bike, circuit training and toning are hardly comparable to running 3 miles.

The next day Raji asked if I was running.  I said yes (because I have no excuse not to), and she asked which.  I said the 5k.  She told me I couldn’t. Which means of course that the 5k is the race I signed up for....I love the challenge of doing things people tell me I can't do.

Pride got me into it.

Pride kept me in it – I started running alternate days at the park before going to the gym for toning. I had to report to Raji how many minutes I ran and show her my watch to prove it. (I did catch her bragging that I had doubled my time in just a week; it's nice to know she's proud of me).
Runs 1, 2, and 3 I was in awe at how God has created my body to move, to breathe, to circulate blood, to be pushed beyond what the mind thinks it is capable of.  I found myself very thankful - both to my pride for getting me into this mess, and God for giving me a body that allows me to run.

Runs 4, 5, and 6 (aka the week of the race) I started kicking my pride because I absolutely didn’t feel prepared at all.  But I had to complete – I had to finish, and I had to prove that I could.

Today was the 5k.  Pride made me run the whole entire time.  The gym staff were stationed along the race route, but I had no idea where my trainers were.  Therefore I ran out of fear that they would see me walking.   Not to mention I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it – me, Jen, who loathed running the mile in middle school and was always one of the last to cross the finish line.  Here I was, running for fun.

I have always wanted to be a runner; always wanted to run a race.  But I was never forced to.  Strangely, now I find myself thanking my pride instead of kicking it.  And on Tuesday morning I will be at the park again, and not I have to follow through on a commitment I made out of pride.  Because I like it.