Author: Scraping Raisins

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Jesus Is Not a Chair {guest post}

By Halley Kim | Twitter: @halleywkim

“Hi guys! Did you have fun? What’d you learn about?” I called out to my two children from the doorway of the preschool room at church, my infant on my hip. The service was over and because being a pastor’s wife means being a single mom on Sundays, I was more than ready to collect my kids and head home.

“Jesus!” replied two-year-old Phoebe while she played on the floor with blocks. I smiled at her stereotypical answer and smiled at Janice too, the classroom volunteer that week.

But Janice was disturbed. “Well, we had to backtrack quite a bit. Now I’m SURE you’ve told them this, but —” Janice put up her hand like a stop sign and took a big breath before she finished her sentence. “But when I asked them if they knew who Jesus was, they said no.”

Do you know who Jesus is? I wanted to ask. Does anyone, conclusively?

It was obvious she felt improper implying a pastor’s wife wasn’t feeding her children the prescribed diet of indoctrination. Nevertheless she felt it her duty to alert me that my kids were not fast-tracked to Heaven. I felt trapped because I couldn’t respond outside of church lady etiquette. I’m supposed to be a ringleader, not a rebel. I’m supposed to be advancing the gospel, not pondering disconcerting questions, and certainly not slipping in my charge to “train up children in the way they should go.”

Maybe Janice conveyed impropriety, but she did not hold back her objection to my parenting. With no church-sanctioned outlet for my feelings, I choked them down into the bulging box of All The Things I Cannot Say. A splash of anger was displaced by the new deposit, and I thought how easy it would be to snap Janice’s ninety pound frame like a wishbone.

She continued reporting how my children were failing Sunday School. “I asked them if they knew what it meant to believe in Jesus, and they said no. I asked them if they knew what the word ‘believe’ meant, and they said no.” Janice’s eyes seemed to bulge from her skull every time she uttered the word “no.”

“They’re big concepts for preschoolers,” I replied with my Sunday smile. I gazed at Gabe, my five-year-old who was zipping a toy airplane around the room and oblivious to my fury, to my sense of being caged, to my desire to defend my sweet babies who don’t know the five points of Calvinism and who cares anyway.

“Oh, I just used the analogy of a chair!” Janice tapped me on the forearm like she was telling me she substituted applesauce for eggs in a recipe. “I said, ‘Gabe, do you believe this chair will hold you up if you sit down in it?’ And he said ‘yes.’ So then I said, ‘Gabe, what if the legs of the chair were made of paper? Do you believe the chair would hold you up then?’ And he said ‘no.’”

Janice beamed as if to say, “There you go! Easy as that!”

The only thought I could formulate was You can’t use a word in the definition of that word, dummy.

Janice fiddled with the buttons on her sweater like she was waiting for me to thank her for unlocking the mysteries of faith. Her nine-year-old son Andrew stood nearby. Apparently he’d long-ago rejected the children’s Bible in favor of “the real thing.” Janice told me earlier that Andrew was reading before age two (yeah right) and that he just loved to sit on the couch and read Revelations.

Such a weird kid, I thought to myself.

“That Phoebe sure parrots everything Gabe says!” Janice said, changing the subject.

“Oh yeah. She does.” My mouth was full of words I couldn’t say and anger I wasn’t permitted to express. My baby fussed for her overdue nap and the bulging box inside me threatened to explode. Noted! For the hundredth time: “Only round pegs allowed here, so get your square self together.” I do not fit the pastor’s wife mold, nor am I a passable Christian mother. Guess what? You don’t get to grade me. Stop telling me that your way is the only right way.

About Halley:

Halley Kim is a writer and lactation consultant who lives in Phoenix, AZ with her husband and three kids. She has published essays with Mothers Always Write and The Junia Project. Follow her on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram.

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The Empathy Deficit in the White Church {guest post}

By Katie Carper | Instagram: @katecarper

Trayvon Martin. Michael Brown. Rekia Boyd. Tamir Rice. Freddie Gray. Mya Hall. Stephon Clark. Botham Shem Jean. Aiyena Stanley-Jones. EJ Bradford. Jemel Roberson. Charleena Lyles.

Black bodies. Seemingly disposable. Their humanity buried far below the fair treatment of white bodies who survive their police encounters.

White boys and men load lethal weapons, enter churches and synagogues and schools, and walk out with blood on their hands. But it’s not their blood. And they still walk.

These gross injustices and tragic losses speak to the ongoing fear, mistrust, and disregard for non-white bodies and the preservation of white bodies in America. Each story is a painful example of the racial bias and systemic racism that both built and plagues this country.

Some days I wonder if I’m reading satire. Teenage me would ask, “Is this for real?”

In 1965, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. said, “A man dies when he refuses to stand up for that which is right. A man dies when he refuses to stand up for justice. A man dies when he refuses to take a stand for that which is true.”

If these words have merit, death seems imminent some days for American humanity. We’ll choke on the white *Christian* moderate response that says, “Be bothered by racial injustice but not too bothered. Don’t speak up or you might offend or taint your reputation. Play it safe. Don’t get too political.”

There are many who continue to travel the history of our country, slavery, police brutality, Jim Crow, Civil Rights, and peaceful protests wearing only white shoes. Historical facts on racism and white supremacy are distorted, covered, or ignored by many white conservative evangelicals. As a follower of The Way trying to navigate our country’s racial landscape, I am deeply troubled by the white *Christian* silence, skepticism, and defense over the loss of Black and Brown lives.

Many of us in the white *Christian* culture have an empathy-deficit in matters of racial justice. We’ll pay thousands of dollars to cross the ocean for 10 days with our church groups and take selfies with poor black kids who don’t speak English. We’ll sponsor brown kids all over the globe in the name of generosity. We’ll devote our Sunday morning platforms to hear white voices share of their cross-cultural trips to serve people of color. We’ll host African children’s choirs in our places of worship and call that ‘diversity Sunday.’ And then we’ll pat our white shoulders for doing all that good work.

But include people of color in our white spaces and build friendships? Elevate the voices of our black and brown brothers and sisters in our places of worship and work? Admit, repent of, and humbly address our own personal bias and white privilege? Be informed, challenged, and educated by people of color? Publicly denounce systemic racism and join local efforts in racial reconciliation?

Nah. Too personal. Too uncomfortable. Too risky.

In the wake of Charlottesville, I observed silence from local white pulpits.

Toward peaceful protesters against police brutality, I heard national outrage from many white conservative evangelicals.

With racist remarks and policies from prominent politicians, I continue to hear excuses and enthusiastic applause from many white conservative *Christians.*

What do our black and brown brothers and sisters think when their white brothers and sisters, who claim faith in the same Jesus, respond ways that seem devoid of empathy?

I liken this empathy deficit to how we feel about our favorite pair of shoes. We like our shoes. They’re comfortable, well-worn, and conformed to the shape of our feet. Stepping into the shoes of another feels awkward, maybe even painful, and often forces us to adjust our gait.

White people need to consciously choose to identify with people of color by wearing their shoes. Yes, it’ll be uncomfortable. Yes, it’ll be awkward. Yes, it’ll be painful.

We’ll be asked to explore our deeply held beliefs, stereotypes, bias, and sin. We’ll need to confess that we’ve been complicit–that we who are white have actually been the benefactors of a system designed to serve us and ensure our success. We’ll need to repent of our silence as the oppressed have suffered and continue to suffer at the hands of a country that favors white bodies. We’ll need to sit in the pain of another. We’ll need to rethink how we relate to those who differ from us. And we’ll need to roll up our sleeves and get to work challenging systemic racism that is rooted in our churches, schools, communities, and government.

People of color are exhausted from years of racial injustices, both the major events and the daily microaggressions. Those of us in the white majority don’t get to determine the validity of their pain or experiences. Our minority friends have spoken. Our responsibility is to confess, repent, collectively grieve, and commit to listen and learn from the voices we’ve silenced for far too long.

If we, who claim the name of the non-white Jesus, want to walk in His way of truth, righteousness, justice, and peace, we must be willing to remove our own shoes and step into the shoes of another.  

If you are a white person seeking to follow the way of Christ, here are 3 steps you can take to move toward empathy:

  1. Explore the racial dynamics in your own life. Grab a journal and pen and begin to answer these questions: What assumptions have you made about people of color? What stereotypes have you believed about racial minorities? What experiences, conversations, and education might have shaped your perspective? When was the last time you, as a white person, were in the minority? How might your experiences in America differ from those who are black or brown? Do you bristle when racism is addressed? This first step is not meant to shame but to help you process your own journey in a way that allows for honest reflection, humility, and confession.

2. Educate yourself on the history of race and racism in America. Read books and articles by authors of color and listen to podcasts that address racism. Watch movies, online videos, and documentaries that offer visual stories from people of color in America. Education allows you to get acquainted with a broad range of lived experiences for racial minorities. If you’re overwhelmed, unsure of where to begin, I encourage you to start here.

3. Pray about how to get involved specifically. Ask God for direction as you determine where to use your gifts to practice empathy in your community. What would it look like for you to walk in the shoes of another right where you are? For local involvement, I highly recommend Be the Bridge, an organization founded and led by the fearless Latasha Morrison. This online community provides practical tools to help educate, equip, and guide you in how to bring the Gospel to life through the work of racial reconciliation in your community. You can learn more at beabridgebuilder.com.

About Katie:

I like strong coffee, good books, and belly laughs. I’m a recovering people-pleaser with a strong sense of justice and a deep desire to remind others that they belong. I married a good man and we parent 4 kiddos, one with an extra chromosome. Most days, our house is wonderfully L.O.U.D. I write about social justice, parenthood, Down syndrome, and adoption. You can find me at www.katiecarper.com
Instagram @katecarper.

If you are a writer interested in submitting your work to Scraping Raisins, take a look at the themes below, check out the writing guidelines, and send me a submission!

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The Art of Following {guest post}

By Jessica Kumar | Instagram: @invisibleindia

I’ve never been much of a follower. I’ve always spent a significant amount of time in leadership or pursuing leadership. From a young age, people listened to my ideas and often went along with what I said.

In elementary school, I was pegged a leader of the playground. In high school, class president; in college, a resident assistant (leader in the dorm); in my career, a manager. My whole identity was built on being a leader.

In the Western world and all over the world, leadership is pursued, rewarded and compensated. Everyone is taught to build a following, pursue leadership opportunities and be an influencer.

However, in many cultures in the world, there is a high value in being a follower. People find their identity based on whom they follow rather than whom they lead.

I live in India, and there are beautiful things to learn here about following. You see many who are totally devoted to their guru and who will unquestionably do anything they ask or command.  In my community in India many of the women I know seek conformity and submission as success. Leadership is not a main measurement of worth or value.

Here in India, traditional women have roles:

  • follow your husband
  • follow your guru
  • follow your dharma (religion/duty/role in life)

I have learned a lot from being in a community like this. And in 2017 and 2018, I set a goal for myself-

My main goal was to stop leading, and become a follower. 

At this point in my life, I don’t have the expectations of a high pressure career and I have allowed myself to let go of the internalized success measurements that I used to gauge myself against. My identity in the community comes from who I follow and my roles of whom I serve.

“She is HIS wife.”

“She is HIS mother.”

“She is a follower of THAT guru.”

In this, brings an invisibility of self which is normal in Indian society, but begrudged in our Western world. And in this invisibility, I found freedom.

Learning to be a follower can produce beautiful things in our lives, including the freedom to admit that we don’t know everything, aren’t in control, and don’t have to “fix” things around us.

Even outside the Eastern world, the leadership model is being deconstructed. Leaders who are organic in reciprocal relationships are the ones who we want to follow. Effective leaders are the ones who expel their energies and share what they know, but also absorb knowledge and energy from those whom they come into contact with.

In essence, leaders who know how to follow are the ones others want to follow.

About Jessica:

A global nomad from birth, Jessica Kumar currently lives in India where she and her family are involved in economic development work and small business. She and her husband run a podcast, “Invisible India,” where they talk about scrappy travel, interview interesting people and explore the interactions between East and West through the lens of a cross cultural, interracial couple. Find Invisible India on iTunes, SoundCloud and Stitcher as well as on Instagram, Facebook and Twitter. She also writes articles related to cross cultural life at www.globalnomadism.com. Follower Jessica on Twitter @JessicaKumar_ (note the underscore.)

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Jobless at Christmas {guest post}

By Stephanie Thompson | Twitter

I don’t like surprises.

Actually, let me clarify-I like surprising other people, but unexpected interruptions in the rhythms of my life make me uncomfortable.

I’m the one who likes to sit in the front seat of the rollercoaster so I can anticipate what’s coming next. Chalk it up to birth order, personality, life experiences … I like to have a sense of what lies ahead.

I’ve been learning to trust God more in this area. But, as you know, you don’t recognize progress until you encounter circumstances that test it.

Several years ago, my husband found out he was going to lose his job. Right before Christmas.

How do you prepare for that kind of news? We prayed, talked, and waited. And just as he thought, it happened.

My mind had not forgotten the prophetic nudge I had received randomly at a stoplight a year earlier. The Target sign advertising seasonal hiring had drawn my eyes and, for some reason, it resonated with me. As the light turned to green, the thought was packed into the back of my mind and I proceeded down the road and onto my day.

Until a year later, when we faced with my husband’s job loss. Questions loomed. Working at Target would entail nights at work and sleep during the day. How does one do that with a two year old? What about getting my older kids off to school? Would I have to work on Christmas?

God spoke into our lives in a way we had hoped but could not have imagined.

My husband’s company did not have a current space for him to work, so they gave him the opportunity to work from home until January, which was something he had always longed to do. I did end up working on Christmas, but the blessings in that season of waiting came packaged in ways I never anticipated.

Scriptural narratives consistently bear witness to a God of surprises. The packaging of the Messiah was no exception.

Of course, the Jews were well familiar with the prophecies including:

Isaiah 9 :6-7: For a child has been born for us,
a son given to us;
authority rests upon his shoulders;
and he is named
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
His authority shall grow continually,
and there shall be endless peace
for the throne of David and his kingdom.
He will establish and uphold it
with justice and with righteousness
from this time onward and forevermore.

Micah 5:2 But you, O Bethlehem of Ephrathah,
who are one of the little clans of Judah,
from you shall come forth for me
one who is to rule in Israel,
whose origin is from of old,
from ancient days.

The anticipation of his arrival was passed down through generations. Hope wove through the retelling of how God’s hand guided, intervened and never abandoned them. The Torah spoke of the repeated acts of redemption on behalf of the Israelites. And now, as a fractured people, the promise of permanent restoration appeared to be close to reality.

But how do you reconcile all that was hoped for in a Messiah with the reality that he arrived as an infant? Not a seemingly powerful king. Not a savvy political figure. Not even an adult.

God spoke into their lives in a way they had hoped, but could not have imagined.

Yet, truthfully, what had been pictured was not what transpired … at least not from a human perspective. Since fear and despair can quickly clutch us as we wait, how can we let hope and joy liberate us in the midst?

We remember the narratives which speak of God’s character throughout history. We, like, the Israelites, cling to the ancient truths which speak to present circumstances.

“and again Isaiah says,
“The root of Jesse shall come,
the one who rises to rule the Gentiles;
in him the Gentiles shall hope.” Romans 15:12

God speaks into our lives in ways we hope, but cannot imagine-even when our blessings look differently than expected.

About Stephanie:


Stephanie is an ordained pastor, speaker, writer and mental health advocate. She writes about sensing the voice of God and encountering the Holy Spirit in the midst of our everyday routines. In addition, the themes of parenting and mental illness find themselves woven into some of her posts. She is a member of the Redbud Writers’ Guild, and her pieces have appeared at Altarwork, Amity Coalition, Her View From Home, The Mighty, and The Mudroom blog. Stephanie lives in the suburbs of Chicago with her husband and three teens. She blogs at stephaniejthompson.com. Follow her on Twitter and Facebook.

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There’s Something About Mary {guest post}

By Nichole Woo | Website

I’ve read her ancient script a million times. If I’m really honest, what’s to admire? She was everyday, unaccomplished – conventional at best. She had her brief blip on the radar in Bethlehem. But, a few sentences later, she slips silently back into history. Mary never made waves or rocked boats; her passively-soluble life dissolved into the wider world. Hers was a story of submission: Compliant and well-behaved – the kind lived by women that seldom make history, or bumper stickers.

She’s the converse of the story I crave.

I long for stories of a louder, bolder, more meaningful existence – the kind bequeathed me as a 21st century woman. I ache for extraordinary; like that other Mary whose captivated imaginations for hundreds of years. We often see her slipping in and out of pop culture, and once again into the box office this season.

This Queen of Scots was anything but ordinary. Her life reads like an epic novel rather than a historical footnote. She was striking, accomplished – unconventional. In her 44 short years, Mary traversed the political-religious land mines around her, achieving the titles of Queen Consort of France, Queen of Scotts, and mother to the future king of England. There were scandals, a handful of husbands, murders, implications, imprisonments and escapes. There were plenty of missteps, but those just thickened the plot. Her life and legacy are legendary.

Extraordinary.

It calls to me in my own story – even more so at Christmas, when my soul searches for exceptional. I want the unrivaled light display outside (I almost lost an eye this year) and the stunning tree inside (to the back with the hand-made “ornaments”!). I want my kids to look cute, not constipated, in our Christmas picture. I want to get and give the perfection oozing out of every holiday ad I’ve seen since October. I don’t want my Christmas narrative to disappoint, like a Chia-Pet afterthought, unwrapped on Christmas morning. I’m graduating from “mundane Mary,” to shiny, Lexus-with-the-gigantic-red-bow-Mary-extraordinary.

A Tale of Two Marys

Digging deeper into the lives of these leading ladies and juxtaposing them unearthed truths that made we think again. True, both are part of royalty, yet each pursues drastically different treasure.

  • One sought adulation, the other risked humiliation. (Matthew 1:18-19)
  • One played for power, the other became a bondservant. (Luke 1:38)
  • One exalted herself, the other her Lord. (The Magnificant, Luke 1:46-56)
  • Queen Mary championed her “divine” right to rule, the other, a Divine Ruler. (Luke 1:45)
  • Both had a cousin, named Elizabeth. Queen Elizabeth I of England was vulnerable, without an heir. So, Mary betrayed her, plotting to take her throne. Elizabeth of Judah, too, was childless and advanced in years. Upon experiencing a miraculous pregnancy of her own, she joyfully proclaimed her cousin mother of the King. (Luke 1:41-44)
  • Queen Mary, too, had a son. But James abandoned her, the goal of kingship in his crosshairs (eventually becoming James I or England). Amidst the chaos of crucifixion, from the agony the cross, Jesus sought his mother’s protection through His disciple, John. She would not be abandoned, though He was. He was crucified “King of the Jews,” but rose and reigns the King of Kings.

(Extra)Ordinary Mary

The Queen treasured a life of earthly power. In the end, she lost both to the blocks. The Virgin treasured the unfolding of Someone else’s power. (Luke 2:19)

A blip on history’s radar: “Ordinary Mary,” yet seen through the centuries as God’s “favored one,” counted by all generations since as blessed. Her humility and belief bore a Legacy greater than any other, her flesh cradling the Word who became flesh, the Savior-King. Two Marys: One made her mark on history, the other on eternity.

In our quest for extraordinary (especially in this season), may we find it not in “what,” but in Who.

About Nichole:

Despite a deep desire to belong, Nichole Woo often finds life nudging her to the margins. She’s been the only girl on the team, the only public speaking teacher afraid of public speaking, the only Caucasian in the extended family photo, and the only mom who lets her kids drink Fanta. She calls the Rockies home, often pretending to be a Colorado native in spite of her flatland origins. Visit her blog at www.walkthenarrows.com.

Sign up for the (occasional) Mid-month Digest and the (loosely) “end of the month” Secret Newsletter for Scraping Raisins Here:

Follow me on Instagram @scrapingraisins–I frequently give away books and products I love! 

Announcing the themes for next year! Visit here for submissions guidelines!

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St. Ignatius, Mary & the Great Advent “Yes” {guest post}

By Kimberly Baldwin

While in grad school I spent some time in India with fellow students. After dinner one night, our host led us through some of the city’s streets until we ended up in Dharavi, which I would later learn was one of the largest slums in Asia, covering more than five acres in the heart of the city and home to as many as100,000 people. Dharavi was like nothing I had ever seen or experienced. We walked single file down the narrow alleys, the streets of Dharavi, following our guide closely, minding his instruction to keep close.

It was getting dark and it was a busy time of night. There were people everywhere. It felt as though I was pushing my way through a crowded train car. Our guide told us to avoid stepping in the water. With no proper waste system, the water running down the walkways was sewage. There were slabs of meat hanging from open windows. There were tiny shops. There was corrugated metal, cardboard and wood, all pieced together to build homes and businesses, a community. I was overwhelmed in every sense of the word. How do they all fit? How do they not get sick?  How do children not get lost? When we finally emerged from the narrow alleys of Dharavi we were led up five flights of stairs to the roof of a neighboring building and told to look down.

Below was Dharavi, the community we had just walked through. All I could see were rooftops pieced together, the alleyways not visible from the view above. Then looked up and out. The rooftops kept going. Dharavi kept going. It was bigger than I could have ever imagined. We had only covered a block. There was so much more. Stretching out before me were the lives of thousands of people … women, men and children living and breathing, working and cleaning, preparing food for their families, bathing their babies, caring for those who were sick. Suffering and celebrating. Laughing and crying. Dying and being born.

In Ignatian Spirituality, St. Ignatius of Loyola invites us to contemplate the incarnation in two parts. In the first part we are asked to imagine what the Trinity sees when looking out upon the earth before making the decision to enter into it in human form.  

For me, when I pray this first part of the contemplation I always see Dharavi.

I see the expanse of metal rooftops going on for miles, seemingly without end, and it astounds me every time that somehow God sees all of this and is, at the same time, still acutely aware of the individual moaning and exultation of each person. We don’t just get lost in the mix and that to me is astonishing. God can both see the broad view of the whole world (the rooftops of Dharavi view) and at the same time can see, feel, and hear the inner workings of each and every single person … all 7.5 billion of us. God sees all of this and then decides to enter into it, right into the middle of all our pain and all of our mess.

But first, Mary had to say yes.

For the second part of the contemplation on the incarnation, Ignatius invites us to imagine what that moment must have been like for Mary. However we might describe what Mary’s life was like in her time and day, it’s safe to assume it wasn’t easy. She most assuredly had dirt under her fingernails on the regular. But when presented with what must have seemed a crazy proposition, she said yes, and in doing so, made a very clear statement about her life’s orientation. Advent invites us to orient our lives just the same.

This is what Advent boils down to for me.

Advent … a time of hopeful anticipation, a time of inviting God in, a time of recognizing where we need God, and a time of re-orienting our lifetowards that which matters most.

My family and friends know that I love Christmas. I love all the cheesy romanticmovies. I love the lights and the photo cards that come in the mail. I treasure buying presents for the people I love. But I don’t think I could love Christmas the way I do without Advent.

Advent is when I am reminded that, just as Mary had to say yes, I too have to say yes. Not a one time yes but an ongoing, day-by-day and year-by-year yes. I have to make a decision about the direction I want my life to be heading. I have to open myself up to the God who wants to make a home in me. Advent gives us time to decide (maybe for the first time or maybe again), towards what or whom is our life oriented. 

Then we might see more clearly the incarnation. We might more joyously participate in the lights, and music and gifts of Christmas because Advent will have prepared us well.

The seemingly secular Christmas hype won’t concern us because instead it will serve as a reminder that the Trinity looked at the world and upon seeing the destruction and the suffering, responded out of compassion and mercy, deciding to incarnate God’s very self into the world in order to heal it. But that’s not all (as if that wasn’t enough). Advent reminds us that God gazes at each one of us in the very same way, with compassion and mercy, wanting to heal us, wanting to re-orient our lives. We just have to make the space. We just have to say yes.

About Kim:

As a wife and mom to four young children, Kim Baldwin is happiest when spending time with family and friends, enjoying the gorgeous Arizona sunshine, watching a little HGTV and volunteering with organizations doing good in the world. Professionally, she spends her days working with awesome undergrads in the Next Generation Service Corps at Arizona State University who are committed to creating change. This is where her passions lie and where her heart is most drawn. Kim looks forward to connecting with you as you too discover and share how you have been called to love and to impact change as you carve out estuary moments in your everyday life. Read more from her at http://www.ignatianmama.com.

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For December, the theme on the blog is “The Other Side of Advent.” Let me know if you’re still interested in guest posting (I’m usually willing to extend deadlines)! Check submission guidelines here.

Sign up for the (occasional) Mid-month Digest and the (loosely) “end of the month” Secret Newsletter for Scraping Raisins Here:

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A Minimalist’s Guide to Slow Fashion {guest post}

By Claire Florine | Instagram: @claireflorinewrites

In our fast-paced society that is generally obsessed with instant-gratification, a new speed of fashion is taking root in the wardrobes of a wide variety of women. Some call it “slow fashion;” others “ethical shopping,” and can involve extensive brand research as well as the creation of the ever-so-popular yet elusive capsule wardrobe.

Being a recovering retail therapist and a “wannabe” minimalist, I have to admit that my curiosity was piqued at this also environmentally friendly and sustainable shopping trend. I have been trying to simplify all of my purchasing needs, but have had to really zero-in on clothing due to a mild obsession with it. Yes, I am a true lover of getting dressed, and yet I cannot help but to feel convicted by the heaps and heaps of clothing that I have cycled through, even just in this past year.

When I first began looking into the idea of slow fashion and ethical shopping, I did some research on the harm that cheap clothing and our consumption of it has done to the environment and to the lives of underpaid textile workers. This sickened me enough to look further. I came across some wonderful brands that are ethically made and pay their workers a fair price. This seemed like the jackpot. I could now select what I wanted to buy from these sellers, and feel good about my clothing choices as well as look like the “fashionista” I shamelessly want to aspire to.

Not so.

Because the truth is, in order to fully embrace ethical and sustainable shopping, I had to first change my “fast-fashion” mindset.

I came to this realization rather quickly. Because what you will notice about the best of these ethical brands is that they are a little pricy. And rightly so! They pay their workers well and use only the best, natural, and sustainable materials so that your clothes will not only look and feel amazing, but will last a long time. These clothes are not meant to be cycled through by fickle “fashionistas” who follow trends like twitter tweets. They are meant to be invested in by mature women who know their style, body type, and preferences, and have enough self-respect and earth-respect to take care of their clothing for the long haul.

I’ll admit that I had some serious changes to make, and I am still on this “slow fashion” journey. But over the past few years, I’ve learned a few good tools that have helped me become less wasteful, more mature, and yes, I still love the act of getting dressed each morning.

First, ethical shopping begins by looking into our own current wardrobe for what we “need.” If there are gaping holes in our closet collection (and let’s be honest, usually there aren’t), then we can figure out what’s most important to us: fair wages, natural materials, handmade, waste-free packaging … It’s hard to get all of these things in one, so we have to do our research and choose what most convicts our hearts. Invest in the brands that best encompass your convictions and purchase from them only what you absolutely need.

Okay, so say there really are gaping holes in your wardrobe. And say you want to curate a fairly modest capsule wardrobe by exclusively shopping ethically. How do you do this without breaking the bank? My simple answer: shop second hand.

My simple answer: shop second hand.

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This way, you opt out entirely from the production of more clothing, and you also save someone else’s rejects from being disposed of in an environmentally unfriendly fashion (pun intended). Vintage Etsy sellers work fine, but so does your local Goodwill or consignment store. In fact, bring your own bag to a thrift store and you’ll even be saving valuable paper and toxic plastic packaging that the expensive ethically made, hand-dyed linen dress would have been shipped in. Win. Win.

But most of all, get in the habit of shopping out of necessity, not boredom or trend following.

Begin with resourcefulness—gratitude is what I like to call it—and practice freeing yourself from the need to shop for more entirely. You can make what you have work well in many cases, especially if you take good care of the things you already own. No need to throw away all of your tops from Target just because they aren’t ABLE or Everlane—that would be adding to the “fast fashion” problem. But evaluate what you think are your fashion needs and check that they aren’t just desires: do you really need a fall dress for that wedding coming up, or can you throw on your black beaded cardigan and some floral-print leggings to enhance a dress that’s already hanging in your closet?

What I have found is that limitations can help you be creative and sustainable. Put on blinders if you have to: unfollow fashion Instagram accounts that tempt you to shop for more, avoid catalogues or clothing boards on Pinterest, and unsubscribe from newsletters from online stores.

My favorite practice that helped me tremendously in this area was to wear only 10 items of clothing for an entire month (underwear not included). This helped me evaluate my style as well as the versatility of my wardrobe. I came out on the other end far more content with my own closet and my desire to shop dialed down drastically.

However we decide to change our fast-fashion mindset, we must see this as the first step to take in embracing ethical shopping. Otherwise, we will simply cycle through more expensive, albeit sustainable, clothing in our ever-changing “capsule wardrobes,” which will end up in a landfill releasing toxins into the already polluted air. I think we can all agree, fashionista or not, that this is so not the point.

About Claire:

Claire Florine is a writer living on the Far Southside of Chicago. Wife to a visionary, mommy to two wee ones, and a lover a good cup of black coffee, she seeks to simply life by pursuing meaningful minimalism, gobs of gratitude, and contentment in all situations. Find her writing at www.thewannabeminimalist.com. Follow her on Instagram and Facebook.

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For December, the theme on the blog is “The Other Side of Advent.” Let me know if you’re still interested in guest posting (I’m usually willing to extend deadlines)! Check submission guidelines here.

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Three Reasons to Shop Ethically … and Four Reasons Not To {guest post}

By Beth Watkins |  Twitter: @iambethwatkins

Three Reasons to Shop Ethically…

1. It takes profits away from companies who hurt people.

The fashion industry is one of the biggest agents of slavery across the globe. Child labor is alive and well. Rivers downstream from the factories that dye our jeans and t-shirts are poisoned, leading to failing crops, lost farms, and whole villages of people who are incredibly sick. Garment workers for beloved brands are routinely physically and sexually abused. Lives and communities are being devastated by low wages, pollution, and cruelty and oppression by those who hold more power than they do. Divestment from these practices hurts the profits these companies make on the literal backs of others. And because there are alternatives I can mostly afford, there’s no need to encourage or reward companies doing evil.

2. You’re not complicit in a system dependent on the marginalization of people in order to function.

It’s a harrowing truth that, even with the best of intentions, all of us are complicit in modern-day slavery. Even if we could all afford fair-trade-everything all the time, we’re still complicit in slavery somewhere along the line (you can have a look at your slavery footprint here). Getting out as far as possible is good for our souls – if I want to be a person who loves my neighbors, how can I support a system that hurts them? May I not be one who sells the needy for a pair of sandals (Amos 2:6).

3. Ethical shopping supports people doing the right thing.

Most of the clothes and shoes we buy rely on highly skilled labor. I’m amazed by what artisans, makers, and craftsmen are capable of, and it’s good to support their work directly, or by companies who treat them like imago dei. The choice to pay employees a living wage and using materials that don’t harm makers or the environment are expensive choices to make. Businesses don’t make these choices for fun , but from principle. Responsibility, as well as from consumer demand. Those who make the hard choice deserve positive reinforcement – and yes, financial reward to cover the cost of the work.

…and Four Reasons Not To

With that said, consuming ethically isn’t as simple or straightforward as it seems. In fact, there are some reasons why maybe you shouldn’t shop responsibly.

1. Things can get real elitist, real fast.

Buying ethically is great – for those who can afford to do it. The price of single items from ethical brands can easily run into the hundreds of dollars. Ethical fashion becomes the domain of a white, middle-class, Instagram-influencer culture very quickly, with garments privileging those with small waistlines and large wallets. Sure – a conscious lifestyle can seem like the way everyone should be living, but if it’s out of reach for those who make $20,000 a year, is it truly just?

2. Turns out some of it isn’t even that ethical at all.

Many companies touting themselves as green or ethical are guilty of greenwashing – posturing themselves as ethical as a marketing strategy instead of a commitment to any actual positive good or change. Given the costs of ethical production,  many big companies prefer to make small, nominal steps – and still reap the financial rewards from customers who have been led to believe they’re making better choices.

While it’s important to pay a living wage to garment makers, how ethical is a company if the fabrics and materials they used aren’t sourced ethically? When “ethical” is a marketing strategy and not a commitment, the results can be almost as bad as non-ethical options.

3. Ethical consumerism makes us worse people.

Studies show humans are permissive creatures who run on trade-offs. Thanks to the “halo effect,” we are more likely to cheat and steal after purchasing something we perceive as “ethical.” We also end up looking down on others – Hannah of Life+Style+Justice says: “There are certainly feelings of superiority that can come with making good choices, or what I perceive as the best choices, that’s quite prideful and ugly.”

Those are sins of commission, but there are also sins of omission. Buying things is easy; justice is hard. Instead of the common good capturing our imaginations and taking root in our actions, “ethical” can become a buzzword. The danger with ethical consumption is it becomes another trendy way to make us feel better about ourselves without commitment to our communities.

4. We can’t buy our way to a better world.

Recently I saw a friend on Instagram sharing pictures of accessories fairly made in developing countries, with the caption “ending poverty never looked so beautiful!” This approach is problematic for lots of reasons, not least because it takes all the complexities of global poverty and inequality, and turns it into something individuals can remedy simply by buying cute things.

People are poor as a result of huge, systemic issues and long histories of colonization, powerful countries exploiting other countries, with long-lasting impacts on global inequality today. While I agree with the Starfish Story approach to assistance, our efforts should be focused on ending systemic evils and rapacious policies, as well as on reparations for historic injustice.

To only focus on our own consumption as a fix is not only short-sighted, but also unfair to those we seek to help. It ignores our true agency – as the author of Myth of the Ethical Shopper puts it, “our real leverage is with our policies, not our purchases.” We can’t buy our way to a better world.

We can’t buy our way to a better world. @iambethwatkins

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While ethical consumption is presented as an alternative to faceless corporate capitalism, it still relies on the same logic – desire more, consume more, it will make you happy and the world better. It’s a better alternative in our current paradigm – but it’s still in the same paradigm.

It would do us well to understand some of the complexity, history, (and our own country’s responsibility) in global inequality before we claim we can change the world just by buying a beaded necklace.

About Beth:

Beth WatkinsBeth Watkins spent the last 6 years working in North and Sub-Saharan Africa with street children, refugees, and other vulnerable populations. She is currently settling back in the US with her immigrant husband and writes about living toward the kingdom of God and flailing awkwardly into neighbor-love at her website where her free e-book “For the Moments I Feel Faint: Reflections on Fear & Showing Up” is available.

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A Philosophy of Home {guest post}

By Josi Seibert

My husband and I live in Chicago on the north side on a quiet, apartment-lined street called Mozart in a neighborhood where our white faces are the minority. Our apartment building is 100 years old and is a four-flat containing four apartments or homes. We (and our two small children) live on the first floor. The other three homes are inhabited by people in our church community. Some call it a Christian commune, some joke it’s a cult. 😉 But we call it intentional and awesome.

The ins and outs of our home are fluid and our door is revolving. Our beloved neighbor-friends “pop in” to chat, ask a question, borrow something, eat a meal or play with our wild kids. Our Afghani friends, who live a couple blocks away, knock on our door at 11pm in tears needing help and comfort. Whether weekend stays of family and friends, a Brazilian man here for a month to study English, or dear friends needing a place to lay their heads in between homes, we have experienced the life-giving, joy-yielding potential of hospitality. We swap stories over bowls of pasta and glasses of wine, laugh together playing Catch Phrase and Funny Bones, and share traumas and dreams over chocolate and cups of steaming tea.

As I’ve thought about hospitality, read about it, practiced it and been a beneficiary of it, I want to share with you five beliefs I now hold that have helped inform my philosophy of home and opening my door to neighbors, friends, and strangers.

1. All is gift. Remembering that everything in my possession (my home, my family, my money, my talents and my stuff) has been loaned to me. As a child of God, I believe He is my heavenly Father, He provides for my needs and that He is the giver of everything good. All is a gift from His generous hand that I neither deserve nor earn nor own. I believe that at the end of my life, I leave empty-handed. All my precious stuff is provisional and short-lived. This belief unpeels my white-knuckled fingers from their grasp around MY things. This belief opens my hand, palms up, ready to share and bless others with what was never mine in the first place.

2. Exclusion vs. embrace. When I meet people I quickly categorize them. Are they better than me? Am I better than them? Are they a threat to me in any way? Can we be so different and be friends? My insecurity demands I judge and compare, which results in walls, defense, exclusion. But when I take a step back and remember every person’s origin, I see an image bearer. Someone who was created in the image of God with beauty and dignity. She is worthy of my time. He has a story to tell and aches to be heard. She has something to contribute. He longs to be loved, lovable, and loving. When I understand how God sees and values them, I choose to soften and embrace.

3. Give it away. Serving others and following Jesus are inseparable. In the Gospel of Mark chapter 10 Jesus says to his disciples, “Whoever wants to be great must become a servant. Whoever wants to be first among you must be your slave. That is what the Son of Man has done: He came to serve, not to be served—and then to give away his life in exchange for many who are held hostage.” (MSG) Jesus gives the example of what it is to serve – both friends and enemies (he invited his betrayer to the table and washed his feet). Hospitality invites us to choose a sacrificial posture of service to others, giving our lives away to build the body of Christ.

4. Boundaries. I think there is a place for boundaries to our homes, especially if our health or marriage is at stake. However, independent Western thinkers, like myself, are bent to believe we need “my space.” We feel entitled to “me time” and do our best to dodge inconveniences of any kind. I’m the first to confess that this is sooooooo me. And, yes, we may need time and space, but they seem to serve us as excuses NOT to invite or live a life accessible to others. I’m convinced, based on personal reflection and experience, that one of the biggest dangers and inhibitors to love (including hospitality) is busyness. We’re hyper-scheduled people with little room for margin. And it’s margin that lets people in. It’s margin that opens the door. It’s margin that has time to listen and to learn how to love another. It’s an act of vulnerability to be available and give people access to your life and home, but it’s the way of love.

5. Learn by being a guest. It’s important to be both the host and the guest. It’s both good and sacred to be the guest. Hospitality is an expression of the heart and nature of God. It is a picture of God the Father, Jesus the Son and the Holy Spirit inviting outsiders to become part of the family of God. I, and all that identify as the family of God, was first a guest. Our being a recipient first informs how we host. God’s generous, all-welcoming love is the stick we measure with and evaluate our own lifestyles and practice of hospitality.

Hospitality is an expression of the heart and nature of God.

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Hospitality has been a good teacher to us. Over the past seven years we’ve intentionally practiced hospitality, we’ve learned lessons in how to create a safe place where people can hang their hats, let their guards down, have their needs noticed and met and belong. Lessons in how to nourish our guests’ stomachs and souls. Lessons in self-sacrifice and laying down our lives for the good and benefit of others. Lessons in the beauty in diversity of culture and beliefs and the power of listening, relating, encouraging, disagreeing and still loving. Lessons in how church can be found around our table. Lessons in how hospitality is a beautiful means to share the gospel.

In a word, hospitality is love.

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Josi’s Recommendations for Books on Hospitality:
The Gospel Comes with a House Key by Rosaria Butterfield
Imitating Jesus by Lewie Clark
Bread and Wine by Shauna Niequist

About Josi:

Josi grew up on a farm in rural Nebraska. She received a Masters in Biblical and Intercultural Studies in Chicago. Shortly thereafter, Josi and her husband moved to West Africa to do business and non-profit work. Once they returned to Chicago, they worked for a refugee resettlement agency. Now they work for Icon Ministries to make disciples of Jesus within the context of love, friendship and hospitality. She is enthused about having people around her table, finding ordinary adventures with her husband and two young kiddos and uniquely living out Jesus’ commission to make disciples of all nations.

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This month on Scraping Raisins we’re talking about practical and impractical hospitality. Be sure to follow along on my social media channels (buttons on top right of website) and subscribe to my newsletter to be updated on all the posts, plus links to thought-provoking articles from the web and a few books and podcasts.

 

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The Table {guest post}

By Judy Douglass | Twitter: @Jeedoo417

It began with a small nudge—from God I believe: Invite your neighbors for dinner.

But what if they all come? My table isn’t big enough.

I began to look for the right table: seats 12 with an extension, light-to-medium brown, wide enough for two at each end, pedestal rather than legs, and I named a price.

A friend and I looked for two years: Craigslist, eBay, consignment stores, sales. It was not to be found. My husband suggested I just ask them to dinner and use two smaller tables.

I was sure I needed to find the table. But I was also sure I needed to invite the neighbors—two years had passed since that first nudge. So I made up simple invitations to a Texas-style barbecue and personally delivered them.

Would they come? Yes they would. Five couples said yes. With us—twelve people. But no table.

So I looked once more on Amazon. Sure enough there it was: right style, color, size and price. Could Prime get here in a week for our neighbor gathering? It was promised the morning of our party, and arrived in time for us to assemble it and decorate with some Texas flair.

And then it happened—twelve neighbors seated around the table. Some were close, others hardly knew each other, two were new to the neighborhood.

Dinner was simple: Texas BBQ from my favorite caterer, sides from my two closest neighbors, my Texas cornbread and famous peach cobbler.

The Table

We wanted everyone around the table so we could all talk together. We asked two simple questions for each person to answer over dinner and dessert: 1) Tell us a fun or surprising story from your early years. 2) Who has significantly influenced your life or what is a significant life lesson you have learned?

The conversation and laughter around the table never stopped. The man on his second round with cancer told of meeting his wife and marrying her three weeks later—they have been together more than 40 years. The doctor and his wife each gave their own versions of their courtship. The missionaries shared how they separately heard a call from God. The attorney and his wife honored the other with specific praise and told of heartache with children. The agnostic listened quietly to several stories of God’s provision.

The evening was more than I had hoped for. New friendships, greater bonding, promises to help each other. People who lived near each other took major steps toward becoming true neighbors.

Could the same connections be made in another setting? Of course. Was the table essential? Probably not.

But the table brought us all face to face, enjoying good food together, telling our stories, revealing joys and hurts, happy events and deep needs.

Thanks to the table.

What about you? What might happen around your table?

About Judy:

Judy Douglass is a writer, editor, speaker, encourager. She partners with her husband, Steve, to lead Campus Crusade for Christ (Cru) globally. She writes at www.judydouglass.com. You can find her on Facebook  and follow her on Twitter. Visit here for her most recent books.

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This month on Scraping Raisins we’re talking about practical and impractical hospitality. Be sure to follow along on my social media channels (buttons on top right of website) and subscribe to my newsletter to be updated on all the posts, plus links to thought-provoking articles from the web and a few books and podcasts.

 

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Sign up for the (occasional) Mid-month Digest and the (loosely) “end of the month” Secret Newsletter for Scraping Raisins Here:

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