Slavery, and quite possibly the most hypocritical thing I've ever written

I randomly found this online survey that estimated "How many slaves work for you," as in, "How many things do you regularly buy that come from materials that were mined or manufactured by slaves?" It was interesting and slightly eye-opening, but they lost me at, "Get the app to fight slavery with your Android or iPhone - Ask brands at the store you shop in about where their raw materials come from, and check-in so your friends can help, too."

So let me get this straight, survey. You just told me that slaves in India are forced to mine, under horrific working conditions, for the coltan in my smart phone, and that workers in iPhone factories in China regularly try to commit suicide in the factories they work in because the working hours are so arduous, but now you're attempting to assuage my guilt and even pump me up with a shred of self-righteousness and some less personally sacrificial surface solution, by further encouraging my irresponsible consumer habits under the guise of a hip (and social!) medium?

Oh, and this is after you've called me "stupid" at one point, too. I don't need your pretentious snark, survey!

But to those of you who are reading this, before you point out the obvious hypocrisy of me typing this out on my expensive laptop while wearing my cotton clothes as I slowly roll side-to-side on my rubber yoga ball/desk chair, let me do it for you: I'm a hypocrite.

Yes, I beat you to it (don't you go all stealin' mah thunda! ;). I'm very slowly coming to grips with the realization that much of what I buy is, completely or at least in part, made by slave hands. And by "slowly," I mean I'm only just starting to try and phase things out of my life one at a time, the most major thing right now being chocolate.


Oh lands, yes. You read that right. Chocolate.


Now, before you get all weird about worrying that I'll somehow be offended at your next birthday party where you want to have a chocolate cake, let me assure you, I'm not going to be an obnoxious douche (for lack of a better term) about this. You want chocolate cake? Hurrah! It's your birthday! I like you! I like chocolate! I'll eat some! Here's what won't happen:


"Oh no thanks--I personally don't find the hopeless tears of children stolen from their families and forced into indentured slavery in another country to farm cacao beans for major chocolate corporations to be that delicious, BUT THAAAANNNNKKKKSSSS......"

So no smug, douche-y comments from me--like, ever--and I'm going to happily eat the cake. Hokay? Hokay :).

But I digress. My point is, my admittedly slow acceptance of the truth about my favorite goods, and trying to make smarter consumer decisions, is really hard. Srsly u guyz, EVERYTHING IS SLAVERY. But in the face of my faith, I just can't reconcile not trying to make better buying decisions.

I can't track every single ingredient or material used in every single food or product I buy, but I'm willing to try. And if I hear about how thousands of people are being exploited and forced to work in inhumane conditions to produce the new, cool product I've been eyeing, I hope I'm strong enough to resist the temptation and remember that I can't use my dollar to silently agree with this anymore.

It'll be hard, and I'm sure I'll find out horrifying details about even the things I think aren't compromising ("Oh, you're enjoying that 'fair trade coffee,' hmm? That's nice. TOO BAD IT WAS PROCESSED IN A FACTORY WHERE WORKERS ROUTINELY LOSE THEIR FINGERS IN THE GIGANTIC COFFEE GRINDER THAT ONLY RUNS ON THE BLAZING FIRE OF ENDANGERED TREES!"), but again, I'm willing to try and be smarter about what I consume, and I accept that it might have to happen gradually.

Just to clarify, I realize a lot of working conditions and salaries that we consider to be horrific over here aren't viewed the same way in some circumstances in other countries. You and I might not enjoy breaking rocks in the sweltering African sun for only 30 cents an hour, but I do recognize that sometimes those working conditions don't seem bad to the people who have to work in them. 30 cents an hour might allow one family to buy food and send their children to school, depending on the country. I'm not talking about those who are actually perfectly happy with their wages and work (and don't need a well-meaning but out of touch American to come along and mess it up for them).

I'm talking about those who are forced to work for unsustainable lengths of time, are beaten and/or sexually exploited if they don't, and are paid far below what they need to survive. These are the conditions I'm silently protesting with my dollar.

Weirdly enough, the decision to stop eating commercial chocolate just sort of "happened" one day. I was reaching for some "Sweet and Salty Dark Chocolate Nut Blend" thing, and some documentary I had seen months before (and hadn't exactly forgotten about up this moment) came to mind, and I just thought, "You know, how can I eat this chocolate, knowing that it came directly from the hands of scared, kidnapped slave children?"


OK, now I'm starting to sound like I'm getting smug, and you're probably thinking that I think you're a jerk because you might not have this same conviction. But I don't! I promise! You're probably super awesome at only buying local produce and actually doing Meatless Mondays, or something, but I'm not there yet. Or maybe you sponsor a child overseas--I'm not currently doing that! So there's no judgment here, trust me. Your first step to making the world a better place in Jesus' name was different from mine, but both of our steps are equally valid.


Ugh, I feel like this has been all over the place. I'm sorry. I think I maybe wrote this more to suss out my thoughts rather than have a huge "insight" to share, but I'm glad I wrote this out. Hopefully (maybe?) this will help someone else, and if you're curious about "chocolate slavery," here's the documentary, "The Dark Side of Chocolate" (no worries, it's public):

Psalm 10 also comes to mind, as I'm processing all of this. I was picturing the wicked man the psalmist describes as the one who takes these slaves captive and holds them there, assuming that God won't see him and come for those he is exploiting, but now I'm wondering, "By buying these products, are we the wicked ones, too?"


I'm encouraging these wicked people to enslave and exploit innocents, because I continue to buy the goods that use the materials they produce. Can I really, in good conscience, say that I haven't had a direct hand in slavery, just by being a mindless consumer? Deep stuff :(.

The Heart's Displaced Affections

"For where your treasure is, your heart will be also." - Matt. 6:21 (ESV)

Have you ever stopped to think where your heart is?


I really hadn't. Not until this morning as I read Matthew 6, at least. So often we read this scripture and presume it's referring to material things, but as I thought about it, we can really store up treasures in just about anything, can't we?


People place their treasures (really, you could substitute the word "treasures" with "hope") in fame, relationships, security, popularity, worldly acceptance, love and so much more, but rarely do we have enough foresight to keep our eyes trained heavenward and remember to act in such a way down here on earth so that we store our treasures in heaven.


I suppose this scripture hit me especially hard because I recently realized how much treasure I place in my relationships. It's good to love your friends and be in community, but I've taken it so far that if anything negative happens in my relationships, I'm disproportionately distraught. Why? If I were to be honest, it's because I'm looking for the completely steady and unconditional love from people that I can only find in a perfect God who is Love incarnate.


I think it's interesting that shortly after Jesus says this, He follows it with, "No one can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other..." - Matt. 6:24 (ESV)


Think about where your heart is. If you're like me and your heart's affections are displaced sometimes, you can probably identify where you're storing your treasures. Think about instances where you may have done or said something that contradicted what you knew Scripture would tell you to do. Maybe it's that moment when you felt the tug to divulge that juicy rumor you heard about someone to a new group of friends, trying to break in with them, or that urge to run from a money problem because you were afraid of appearing powerless in front of your peers. Or maybe you thought, "If I just sleep with this person, they won't leave me."


Pay attention to what threatens to wound your pride or makes you fight to ensure you don't look weak, insecure, helpless, or "stupid." Those things you're fighting to protect can be indicators of where your treasure lies.


It's easier said than done, but let's pay attention to where our hearts are and ask ourselves, "Are our hearts centered on God? Or this meaningless, worldly pursuit of fame, power, popularity, wealth, etc?"

Bad blessings?

Is it bad to want blessings?

Subconsciously, my answer would be "yes." How many times have we heard the ridiculous "prosperity gospel" that says we should expect blessings, even sometimes demand them? ("The Prayer of Jabez," anyone?)

I feel like the "prosperity gospel" and its polar opposite, the "radically live for Jesus" movement, have both made Christians feel guilty for wanting or receiving blessings. I feel the prosperity gospel and the radical movement have had the same unfortunate effect on Christians: Making us feel guilty when we "selfishly" hope for blessings.

To be clear, I'm not defining blessings in a strictly material sense. God can and sometimes does choose to bless us materially (see Solomon in 1 Kings 3:13 and Job in Job 42:10, 12-17), but we forget about the blessing of, say, peace of mind, or joy, or increased faith. Or maybe a new opportunity because we've been faithful in the small things (Luke 16:10).

There are blessings to being obedient, and I know I have somehow forgotten that. I've fallen into the "radical movement" camp of thought that says we should just stoically follow our God and be "warriors" of faith, standing silent and firm against temptation and attacks, never expecting it to be easy, and accepting the Christian life is full of purifying fire and difficulty with no reprieve, ever. You should follow God's laws for no other reason than to bring glory to Him--your own happiness and comfort will never be considered, and you're selfish and your "heart isn't in the right place" if you ever think it should be otherwise.

Christianity = Sleep on a bed made of stone with your teeth gritted, expecting to be woken up by a mocker with a flaming whip made of thorns and broken glass. Take the abuse silently, expect your reward to be a nod from Lieutenant General God, then go back to sleep on your stone pallet to wait for the next day for it to happen again. If you're lucky, maybe your mocking attacker will break down and repent due to your unwavering stoicism.

Sorry--a bit of hyperbole to make my point. I realize not everyone has this view, but it's what I've fallen into recently, and it took a phone call to wake me up.

I recently became convicted about something I was doing, and I decided listen and stop doing it. I was tempted, I overcame, and I had this wonderful sense of peace and calm because of it--I knew God was very happy and relieved that I had chosen the harder path. I realized He was blessing me with this peace that I hadn't felt in months, and I was happy just to bask in it.

But that same day I received a phone call from a potential client--the first I've had in my fledgling business--and I just felt like God was saying, "I'm blessing you with something you really want [a client] because you obeyed Me."

And it hit me: Why don't more Christians talk about the personal blessings that come from being obedient? I feel all I ever hear about is how we should be obedient because we're "supposed to" and so we'll be a "light to the world." Both of those reasons are wonderful and completely true, but sometimes it's hard feeling like you're just this robot who has no dreams or hopes, but is supposed to instead do something just because it's how we're "programmed."

I obeyed God, which in turn glorified Him, which is great and something I hope for. But it didn't stop there. Because of my obedience, He blessed me. I would've been happy just to have that blessing of peace, but I was blessed more (in this particular instance) with something else I've been hoping for.

For me, I've got to say I like being incentivized to obey more often with the promise of not just "You did the right thing. Yay you," but an actual blessing. And for me, that blessing can be something as simple as that peace and happiness I felt for knowing I obeyed God and made Him happy--He didn't have to add on that phone call, and I don't expect Him to do things like that every time. This kind of obedience feels a lot more happy, weightless and doable than the "Suck it up and just DO it, soldier!" kind.

I realize blessings don't always come right after obedience, and sometimes it's going to feel like I'm being pushed and tried even further. But I realized that our God is a God of blessings, and they do come out eventually, even if it's several years down the road, or even in the next life. But just knowing that they do has suddenly made obedience seem a lot easier, and my God a lot more friendly and loving again :).

Emotions > Intellect?

Last night I had a very, very important realization: Most of what troubles me in my faith is my dependence on feelings.

God feels far away.

I don't feel forgiven.

It feels like God is disappointed in me right now.

It doesn't feel like God is leading me to do that, but I don't know why.

But what happens when your spiritual life is dominated by your emotions? Doesn't emotion have a place in our spiritual walk? Yes, it does. But I realized last night that emotion's place in my spiritual walk had usurped the highest authority in my walk with Christ; His Word, and what it tells me is true about Him.

God told me He would never leave or forsake me? (Deut. 31:6) God told me that He casts my sin as far as the east is from the west and remembers them no more? (Psalm 103:12) God told me that He loves me? (John 3:16) God told me what He requires of me? (Micah 6:8) Doesn't matter; my feelings say otherwise.

However, I listened to a Breakaway podcast yesterday entitled "Robe Your Mind for Action," and the guest speaker, Jennifer Wilkin, made an excellent point about how we usually approach Scripture with self-application in mind. We read it to "get something out of it," when what we really need to do is make sure we understand that we're learning about our God first, then we can make personal applications based upon that knowledge.

She also made an excellent point about reading Scripture to gain wisdom from knowledge. Knowledge of our God and His statutes enables us to make wise decisions about how we should engage our world, use our resources, etc. This morning I was debating whether I should try out a new church because I barely slept last night, but what if I was supposed to go? Oh Father, what do I do? Would You please guide me and tell me what I should do?

Almost immediately an answer came back: "What do you know about how I feel regarding church?"

He was inviting me to use my intellect, not my feelings. If He's already told me what He thinks about church (or to be more specific, about being in a community of Christians), why was I begging Him for an answer? I don't need a specific answer for for every situation I have for the rest of my life. What. Does. He. Say?

I don't think anything catastrophic would've happened if I had missed church today. But as I sat there and reasoned in my half-asleep stupor, I realized we are encouraged to be in community with other believers (Heb. 10:25, 1 Thess. 5:11), and when I go to church I enjoy it and feel better for the rest of the week. So using my knowledge of Scripture and God-given wisdom, I decided to go, and I'm glad I did.

Instead of believing every new "feeling" that comes into my spiritual life, I'm going to cling to what I know Jesus, who is "the same yesterday and today and forever," (Heb. 13:8) has said is true through His Father's Holy Word, and act on and believe in those things. Not that emotions have no place in the Christian's life, but when emotions > intellect, we will be as unstable and uncertain as ships tossed at sea.

"Out of all the voices calling out to me,
I will choose to listen and believe the voice of truth."
- Casting Crowns, "Voice of Truth"