God made the earth. We live in it. We fill it up. We use it. It is a gift. Sometimes we think about being stewards of it, taking good care of it; sometimes we don't. There are all kinds of groups that talk about the use of land, but we don't often see the church involved in the discussion -- at least not the church as such. And I think that's too bad. Individuals in the church may participate or have opinions, but often we think of ourselves as people with opinions instead of as God's people who are given a distinct role as the salt of the earth in the places where we live. Given that we believe earth itself was the first of all the good gifts God gave us, we deserve a place to encourage, pray about, and give thanks for the land we call home.
Anyone I know who was born in Appalachia, no matter how long ago or how far they've been removed from the area, considers that place home. If Mary and Joseph traveled back to Bethlehem for their census, we'd travel there. It is the place we answer to. It is also a place we will answer for.
Because Christians have personal relationships with the creator of the universe, it makes sense that we would have a uniquely valuable voice in conversations about the blessings He has given us. And, though we often praise God as creator, the image conjured up (at least in my mind) is often of the entire cosmos. Just as it would be strange for me to praise God for his overall goodness without praising Him for his specific goodness in my life, so it is strange to praise God for his overall creation without praising Him for the very land we call home. This is a relatively new idea to me, though it is a very old idea -- from as far back as our relationship goes. Maybe it's an idea forgotten to many, since I have yet to run across a forum on the subject. And so I begin the discussion. Well, not I...we.
I have started a new blog: God's Mountain People. I have a couple other contributors already and we are excited to work together on this project. We hope you'll join us. Together, we will be celebrating our heritage and God's gifts that are unique to Appalachia. We welcome all God's Mountain People to join in the discussion. I will be happy to edit and post your stories, thoughts, and words of praise as their own entries to the blog. We welcome all interested in learning more about what it means to be a Christian from a particular local place and time to listen in and comment away! Please share the link and tell your friends. We want as many readers and participants as we can get!
Showing posts with label Black Mountain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Black Mountain. Show all posts
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
you can say to this mountain....
I think this is take on the impossible week for me. I'll slip into my "disclaimer voice" and tell you I'm involved in things every day that only God can make right. I suppose that's true even just because I wake up in my own skin. But this week, I've been praying for the faith to move mountains -- or, you know, not.
On one hand, I'm trying for faith to move mountains that stand between us and going to see our friends. For that to happen, a girl needs to be strengthened enough to go home and we need over $1000 more dollars. We have been blown away by people's generosity thus far and really moved to tears that people would come together to help make this happen.
On the other hand, I'm fighting against mountains that are being moved -- real ones. And these not by faith, but by big machines run by few people. I came to Kentucky this week to attend I Love Mountains day. My cousin (okay..maybe he's my 2nd or 3rd cousin. What is your dad's cousin's son?) who lives back where I'm from in Harlan County told me about it and was gracious enough to take me with him. I have never attended a protest in my life. And I know there are so many issues about justice that are worthy of being championed. But I've been really impressed in reading a little Wendell Berry with the idea that the best way to solve big problems is to work locally. I feel powerless against so many of the world's pr
oblems, but this is my hometown and this is what is happening to it, and this is a problem I am qualified to address. (Bottom image is from the State Journal, the Frankfort, KY newspaper; I couldn't climb that high.)
I don't think I can outline all my reasons for going here in this post, because it takes me a lot longer than that to be succinct. But I'm working on it. What I can say is that I long to hear news of back home and truly desire for it to prosper. I know that coal is VERY important to the people of that area. Coal is truly the only reason any of the towns back in those mountains exist. But I hope there is a future there and I want to encourage people to look for it. Coal is not the future for my hometown. Yes, there is coal left in the mountains, but if you have to actually destroy the mountain to get to it, it is not worth getting to. People cannot afford jobs that cost them their health. You cannot buy your way out of cancer or birth defects. Besides that, I think destroying something like an entire mountain in order to get a stripe or two out of it is prideful and wrong. Sentences like that can sound really arrogant coming from an adult, but the child in us knows it's true.
On the way down, I told Iz why we were making the late-night drive from Muncie to Kentucky. "You
remember when we went to the mountains where Granny lives?"
"Yeah."
"Well, there are some people who want to tear down that mountain."
"But WHY?!"
"Well, because people can make money doing it."
"But they CAN'T!"
"Well, yes, they can. But I'm going down there to ask them not to."
"But, they can't just do that!"
The next day, before I left for the protest, I asked if there was anything he wanted to say about the mountains.
"Well, those mountains are good for walking around on, but we aren't going to do that, anymore."
"Why not?"
"Because there aren't going to be any mountains."
The apple didn't fall too far from the tree in terms of realism vs. optimism, I guess. Maybe he just already has a great understanding of human nature and the way of the world. I hope not. And I sure hope he's wrong.
I don't know if we changed anyone's mind by protesting, but we did draw attention to the issue. And we empowered ourselves to be the one who will do something about it. One man (who was walking on stilts) held up the quote about how all it takes for evil to prevail is for good people to do nothing. I try not to make
good guys and bad guys in these matters, but there is definitely a hard but right decision vs. an easy but terrible one here. And all it takes for the terrible decision to be made is for the rest of us to feel like there's nothing we can do about it. But I'm doing something. And especially if this is a local issue to you (did you know those of us in Indiana get our electricity from the destruction of mountains?), I want you to know that you can do something about it. I'm no college student and I'm not a hippie. But I can go to a protest. My brain isn't as articulate as it was a few years ago, perhaps, but I can write letters. No one leaves comments on my blog, but I can write entries to influence whoever I can. :) So I do. I'm going to do whatever I can, because it beats doing nothing. And I'm not alone.
On one hand, I'm trying for faith to move mountains that stand between us and going to see our friends. For that to happen, a girl needs to be strengthened enough to go home and we need over $1000 more dollars. We have been blown away by people's generosity thus far and really moved to tears that people would come together to help make this happen.
On the other hand, I'm fighting against mountains that are being moved -- real ones. And these not by faith, but by big machines run by few people. I came to Kentucky this week to attend I Love Mountains day. My cousin (okay..maybe he's my 2nd or 3rd cousin. What is your dad's cousin's son?) who lives back where I'm from in Harlan County told me about it and was gracious enough to take me with him. I have never attended a protest in my life. And I know there are so many issues about justice that are worthy of being championed. But I've been really impressed in reading a little Wendell Berry with the idea that the best way to solve big problems is to work locally. I feel powerless against so many of the world's pr
oblems, but this is my hometown and this is what is happening to it, and this is a problem I am qualified to address. (Bottom image is from the State Journal, the Frankfort, KY newspaper; I couldn't climb that high.)I don't think I can outline all my reasons for going here in this post, because it takes me a lot longer than that to be succinct. But I'm working on it. What I can say is that I long to hear news of back home and truly desire for it to prosper. I know that coal is VERY important to the people of that area. Coal is truly the only reason any of the towns back in those mountains exist. But I hope there is a future there and I want to encourage people to look for it. Coal is not the future for my hometown. Yes, there is coal left in the mountains, but if you have to actually destroy the mountain to get to it, it is not worth getting to. People cannot afford jobs that cost them their health. You cannot buy your way out of cancer or birth defects. Besides that, I think destroying something like an entire mountain in order to get a stripe or two out of it is prideful and wrong. Sentences like that can sound really arrogant coming from an adult, but the child in us knows it's true.
On the way down, I told Iz why we were making the late-night drive from Muncie to Kentucky. "You
remember when we went to the mountains where Granny lives?""Yeah."
"Well, there are some people who want to tear down that mountain."
"But WHY?!"
"Well, because people can make money doing it."
"But they CAN'T!"
"Well, yes, they can. But I'm going down there to ask them not to."
"But, they can't just do that!"
The next day, before I left for the protest, I asked if there was anything he wanted to say about the mountains.
"Well, those mountains are good for walking around on, but we aren't going to do that, anymore."
"Why not?"
"Because there aren't going to be any mountains."
The apple didn't fall too far from the tree in terms of realism vs. optimism, I guess. Maybe he just already has a great understanding of human nature and the way of the world. I hope not. And I sure hope he's wrong.
I don't know if we changed anyone's mind by protesting, but we did draw attention to the issue. And we empowered ourselves to be the one who will do something about it. One man (who was walking on stilts) held up the quote about how all it takes for evil to prevail is for good people to do nothing. I try not to make
good guys and bad guys in these matters, but there is definitely a hard but right decision vs. an easy but terrible one here. And all it takes for the terrible decision to be made is for the rest of us to feel like there's nothing we can do about it. But I'm doing something. And especially if this is a local issue to you (did you know those of us in Indiana get our electricity from the destruction of mountains?), I want you to know that you can do something about it. I'm no college student and I'm not a hippie. But I can go to a protest. My brain isn't as articulate as it was a few years ago, perhaps, but I can write letters. No one leaves comments on my blog, but I can write entries to influence whoever I can. :) So I do. I'm going to do whatever I can, because it beats doing nothing. And I'm not alone.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
saving home
If you know me very well, you know I am not a Hoosier. I am a Kentuckian. If you hear me complain about Indiana, it's because I say it's ugly. I love the people I know here and I know this is where I am supposed to be, and I love it here for those reasons. But in winter when the snow is melted and all you see is brown mud fields or when it's a beautiful day and I have to drive forever to get to what feels like decent hiking, perhaps this will help you understand why. This is the main street where I am from. 
And this is a picture I took two summers ago of the street where I grew up. That was my house on the right. How far do you have to go to be out in nature here? Maybe down the street. Indiana can't top that. I found the rest of these pictures online, but I know these places without needing to read captions. I moved when I was only nine, but this is home to me. Both sides of my family are from the same little wrinkle in the mountains.
This is Black Mountain, the highest point in Kentucky that hugs the town where I lived as a kid. This picture must have been taken from Kingdom Come State Park, which overlooks my Grandma's house. I once climbed this slope with my Grandma and her cocker spaniel to sit and look down on our towns from here.
We would cross Black Mountain either once a week or once a month to go to the "big" grocery store in Virginia. I remember this curve well. It's near the top of the mountain. Whenever I get the chance to visit my Grandma at her house, (which isn't very often since it's 8 hours away) I try to drive at least part of the way up the mountain. This is where I learned the difference between right and left, as my dad navigated the turns. One of the last times I visited, my aunt warned me not to drive all the way to the top to see the Virginia side. (The Kentucky-Virginia border is at the top of the mountain.) She said it would break my heart. So I didn't go. I like remembering it the way I remember it.
Today, one of my cousins posted a link to an article that showed the Virginia side of the mountain.
This is strip mining. It is where they strip the mountain down -- of trees, of rocks, of itself -- to rake out strips of coal. Words that come to mind are: rape, pillage, mar, destroy, greed, and instant gratification. I don't want this to happen to my hometown. If the picture doesn't tell the whole story, just think of what this does to the water that currently filters through the mountain! And how quickly this can be done. And how it can never be undone. Not even if the trees grow back years from now. Mountains don't look like this. At least they shouldn't.
So my aunt made a facebook event to encourage people to write the governor. The State Division of Mining already issued a permit to strip mine here. That has been put on hold pending study by the EPA. The article said the decision would end up on the desk of a man named Leonard K. Peters. If you read this and are outraged at the state's decision to destroy this part of our country (and it truly is a national treasure, even if it is a small one. I can go to the Muncie Public Library and check out videos about this place. PBS has done documentaries on it...) please write to Mr. Peters at the link above and the governor of Kentucky here. I'm doing whatever I can to protect this place. Please join me.
And this is a picture I took two summers ago of the street where I grew up. That was my house on the right. How far do you have to go to be out in nature here? Maybe down the street. Indiana can't top that. I found the rest of these pictures online, but I know these places without needing to read captions. I moved when I was only nine, but this is home to me. Both sides of my family are from the same little wrinkle in the mountains.
This is Black Mountain, the highest point in Kentucky that hugs the town where I lived as a kid. This picture must have been taken from Kingdom Come State Park, which overlooks my Grandma's house. I once climbed this slope with my Grandma and her cocker spaniel to sit and look down on our towns from here.We would cross Black Mountain either once a week or once a month to go to the "big" grocery store in Virginia. I remember this curve well. It's near the top of the mountain. Whenever I get the chance to visit my Grandma at her house, (which isn't very often since it's 8 hours away) I try to drive at least part of the way up the mountain. This is where I learned the difference between right and left, as my dad navigated the turns. One of the last times I visited, my aunt warned me not to drive all the way to the top to see the Virginia side. (The Kentucky-Virginia border is at the top of the mountain.) She said it would break my heart. So I didn't go. I like remembering it the way I remember it.
Today, one of my cousins posted a link to an article that showed the Virginia side of the mountain.
This is strip mining. It is where they strip the mountain down -- of trees, of rocks, of itself -- to rake out strips of coal. Words that come to mind are: rape, pillage, mar, destroy, greed, and instant gratification. I don't want this to happen to my hometown. If the picture doesn't tell the whole story, just think of what this does to the water that currently filters through the mountain! And how quickly this can be done. And how it can never be undone. Not even if the trees grow back years from now. Mountains don't look like this. At least they shouldn't.
So my aunt made a facebook event to encourage people to write the governor. The State Division of Mining already issued a permit to strip mine here. That has been put on hold pending study by the EPA. The article said the decision would end up on the desk of a man named Leonard K. Peters. If you read this and are outraged at the state's decision to destroy this part of our country (and it truly is a national treasure, even if it is a small one. I can go to the Muncie Public Library and check out videos about this place. PBS has done documentaries on it...) please write to Mr. Peters at the link above and the governor of Kentucky here. I'm doing whatever I can to protect this place. Please join me.
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