When others label and write them off,
We see a family member. We See Kin.

While some see them as an enemy,
We choose to see them as friend.

Some see trouble, an unnecessary risk,
We see one whose life is a precious gift.

 

 

 

 

 

We See Kin.

Some call them stranger, an unwelcome alien,
We welcome and make space. We Be Kin.

When others heap judgment, guilt and shame,
We look them in the eyes and call them by name.

Some build a wall to divide, separate and disgrace,
We build bridges, we unite, with a welcome embrace.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We Be Kin.

It’s not us versus them, they or those, it’s just us.
Why? Because. We Kin.

When society screams, “You’ve done enough! Get out!”
We gently and decidedly whisper, “Come back in.”

When others are demonized, demoralized and ostracized,
We search and gather. We make room, we restore and reenergize.

 

 

 

 

We Kin.

We don’t hate, we love.
We don’t harm, wound or kill, we heal.
We don’t exclude, bar or banish, we welcome.

We See Kin. We Are Kin. We Be Kin.

We Kin.

Be kind.

 

When you know what to do and when you don’t… be kind.

 

When tempted to be petty… be kind.

When tempted to fight back… be kind.

When tempted to hate… be kind.

 

Be kind. Be kind. Be kind.

 

When rage feels justified… be kind.

When violence seems acceptable… be kind.

When harsh words feel therapeutic… be kind.

 

Smile. Serve. Slow down. Be still.

Be understanding. Be Gentle. Be Gracious.

Be Loving. Be Jesus. Be kind.

 

When you have the right words and when you don’t know what to say… be kind.

 

Be kind.

As a child of the 80’s and 90’s I was introduced to a fairly new concept while in elementary school.

I’m pretty sure the idea of recycling had been around for a while; heck, I vaguely remember taking aluminum cans to some place and getting money for them.

I remember special school assemblies where they would teach us the value of recycling.

Recycle Rex taught us to be mindful of our resources and do our best to recycle the things we could.

At my sixth grade camp after each meal they would have all the campers and the chaperons (thanks for coming along dad) chant this simple refrain, “ZERO… Waste! ZERO Waste! ZERO Waste!”

We yelled it together while making an O above our heads then quickly putting our hands on our waist. Clever huh?
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I hate push notifications.

You know what they are right?

Push notifications are those alerts, indicator lights, bubbles and sounds your phone displays to tell you something is happening somewhere and you might want to know about it.

Sorry that was my definition, here is a real official definition:

Push notification, also called server push notification, is the delivery of information from a software application to a computing device without a specific request from the client.

 

 

 

 

For instance, someone comments on your amazing picture of what you’re having for lunch that you posted on Facebook.

Then it’s “ALERT, bing-bong, buzz-buzz, banner message, indicator bubble…”

Grandma has commented on your status.

I don’t like them in essence because I feel like push notifications are just flat out pushy.
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It was a rough weekend.

From Friday’s horrific events in Paris to the lesser known but equally appalling events in Beirut and Baghdad; words fail when trying to make sense of it all.

Bloodshed. Lives destroyed. Families left to mourn.

Sometimes it all seems hopeless. Like it will never get better.

Then comes Sunday in the local church.

What are we to do when people come to church unsettled and searching for answers?

We watch the news and wonder if God is watching too.
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