Lessons from a broken keychain

I was meeting with a colleague yesterday about a fantastic new outreach initiative our organization is tackling. It was a meeting filled with dreams, good ideas, and innovation. After we wrapped up, I reached in my purse and pulled out my keys.

My broken key chain

And broke my key-chain.

No big deal, right? It's just a key-chain.

Wrong.

This was not just a key-chain. It was a symbol of one of the greatest adventures of my life. This key chain was given to me by a friend while I served in Aceh, Indonesia, in 2005. It was crafted by a woman, a survivor of the deadly tsunami. She lived in an IDP (internally displaced people) camp on the outskirts of Banda Aceh. A community organization had taught the women in this camp how to make beaded key-chains, jewelry, etc as an income generating activity.

When I picked up these keys, I was reminded of my great adventure in Indonesia. I remembered my friends there, the impact the trip had on my life, and the long term difference I was able to make among groups who had experienced one of the most horrific traumas imaginable. I remember fiddling with the key-chain  on numerous occasions, wondering how it had survived the years of abuse at my hands.  It has been attached to keys for five different vehicles, three different offices, and three different homes. It's been thrown around purses and has traveled around the world. Pretty impressive resume for a key-chain, huh?

Banda Aceh days

I was sad when it broke, but I was also reminded of how I'm getting old! Next week will mark seven years from the day I set foot on Indonesian soil for that life altering trip. I grew tremendously as a person during those six months. You can read more about my growth time in Indonesia here if you are interested.

After the key chain broke, I reflected on my life over the past seven years and was reminded of three valuable lessons related to this small trinket on my keys:


Growth sometimes comes through trials. My time in Indonesia was difficult and trying, but I grew emotionally, and spiritually. I've been going through a trial recently, and the key chain reminded me that if I let it, this trial will result in growth as well. James 1:2 reminds us that trials lead to perseverance, which helps to sharpen and perfect us.

Maturity comes through time. I remember things I did and said at the age of 20. It's embarrassing to think about. But maturity comes through time. We can't jump from milk to sushi in the matter of a day. (Yes, sushi. I love sushi) The last seven years have been a time of maturing, and I'm so thankful for that. (I'm sure some of you are rolling your eyes at my reflections of being 27 vs 20, but hey, it feels like a LONG Time to me)

God is constant. Things break. People leave us. Jobs get lost. But God is constant. My key-chain broke after seven years, but God has been around through this whole time. I'm not close with some people I considered my best friends seven years ago, but God has seen me through interpersonal pain and the advent of new friendships. My husband lost his job in January, but God is where our family's true value lies.

If you're experiencing loss, trials, or pain right now, I hope you remember that God is constant and that these things take time. I'd love to hear about any trinkets you have that remind you of a different time in your life. And I'd love to pray for you if you're going through a tough time of testing or waiting.

Rice and Beans

It's rice and beans week at the Laney's. It's part fridge clean-out, part charity, and part empathy building. Once a quarter my husband Brent and I don't spend our normal grocery budget on groceries. We purchase a couple essential items: a little milk, bread, rice, and beans. All of our meals for the whole week come from whatever is in our home and those few purchases.

This idea came about this past summer. Brent and I are both news junkies, and found ourselves affected greatly by the dire famine in Eastern Africa. Massive droves of Somali refugees flooded the Dadaab refugee camp in Northern Kenya. People were dying of numerous malnutrition-related diseases. The organization Care has a good description of the Dadaab camp and the food crisis in the Horn of Africa You can check it out here.

The drought made me uncomfortable. I felt powerless and helpless as I looked at picture after picture of malnourished babies, the masses of suffering people and the extreme lack of supplies. Usually I would look, and perhaps share a few articles telling people that we need to take action. I'd contact a few congressmen and would ask them to send aid. Then I'd move on with my life. But this time I wanted to do more. Brent wanted to do more. We discussed our options and came up with 'Rice and Beans Week'. It was a spin off from a movement I had seen on Facebook for people to eat rice and beans for lent. We decided to donate all of our grocery money for one week to one of our favorite humanitarian organizations, Samaritan's Purse. Samaritan's Purse is excellent, I have seen their work firsthand in several countries and completely trust their financials. They are truly seeking to care for the suffering in the name of Jesus, and they do it well.

The week was great. We got creative with our rice and beans. We cleaned out our fridge, using condiments and leftovers to add to our meal. We had peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch, and drank water instead of juice or coke. We used spices to add flavor and variety. We enjoyed ourselves so much that we decided to make 'Rice and Beans Week' a quarterly occurrence. We have never experienced true hunger, but eliminating comfort foods and the plethora of options we usually enjoy is a good reminder of our blessings. We are able to donate extra money apart from our normal giving to help people who are truly suffering. It hasn't been difficult finding humanitarian crises or organizations to support. There is plenty of need. For this Rice and Beans Week, we will be donating our money to support those affected by the crisis in the Sahel. This is a dramatic situation that is getting worse by the day. You can read about the Sahel crisis here or here. We don't know what organization we will support yet, but will figure that out by the end of this week.

'Rice and Beans Week' seems like such a small way to try to help people who are suffering in massive ways. I acknowledge that. I know that our seventy dollars won't change the world. But it could save several lives. Also, I remember that small things done by many people equal big change. If every person in the United States gave their grocery budget once a quarter to help those suffering from starvation and malnutrition, we could make big changes- we could change the world. So I refuse to live in my apathy, I'm not going to turn off the TV and go about my life. I'm taking small steps to change the world. You're welcome to join me.