I just saw the film "Slumdog Millionaire" last night. Honestly one of the best movies I've ever seen. It takes place in modern-day India, and starts off in a slum in Mumbai (I recall ... ) There are three characters in the film—two beautiful, orphaned brothers (one named Jamal) and a precious girl named Latika. Jamal grows up and finds himself on the Hindi version of "Who wants to be a millionaire" with a chance to win several million rupees, all to find that as he answers more and more questions correctly, he is accused of cheating. Everyone knows it is impossible for such a slumdog to be so smart. This film will break your heart, and inspire you to new depths of life.

My whole heart cringes at the pains of this story, because I know how many countless faces have had this same experience ... How do I (as a removed and distant American) hope for things to come when there are so, so many who loose hope in honest pursuit of redemption? There is so much love and heartache I can barely stand it.

How on earth do we deal with caste? I see it's perverse face in every corner of our world, from high school popularity contests to entire nations— there is such sorrow in the dominance of another person's heart. I see my own darkness, I see my fault in this and I weep bitterly. And in my sorrow, I see such a powerful and oppressive force so widely accepted.

God have mercy on me and on us! Please let us surrender ourselves to become the least of these. Oh Christ! let us take the place of those who have no hope so they may know your kindness. We can be the lowest if we have you! I pray that you will make us a presence of light that burns this wicked oppression and leave all hearts ablaze with your love. Forgive me for my arrogance my gracious father. I have not seen these precious, precious children the way that you do ... Here's to seeing your eyes as I look into theirs, and being in love with your children!

My life is but years unaccounted for—
like change spent on bottled water.
Vanity is laughable in the eyes of the grave.
The ground whispers and waits to drink us up.

There is no 'new' to be done, had or seen.
There is no good that lasts, no oppression that stays.

So stand as weeds and flowers for a single season,
and the next one will grow in your place.

All is left spinning in a thoughtless world.


God please forgive me—I curse you as I grow like weeds.
I plead for redemption from this lifeless state.
Your love exists outside of death, and your presence remains.

Oh my Lord, you are good. There are so many places I have run ... and you have raptured my heart. You are my dream realized. I have no words, my God. I rest awake in you and drink your beauty! You have given me more than I could ever ask for, please let me give it up to your world, this beauty you have left burning in my soul ... Oh and this pulsing desire! May it resound with the echos of your voice until I see your face and my darkness melts away. I love you.