Shadows and outlines

Yesterday one of my friends here came to the house and brought with her some old DVDs of Ef playing guitar and singing with me at Open Mic night here. It was like watching old family movies, to some extent; her and I "oooh"ing and "aahh"ing over old memories together. Open Mic night, for those of you who don't know, is a once-a-month evening of mostly strange live music performances by the young people of Niigata city. The event is held at an older Italian restaurant downtown, and many of the people who come are English teachers or students. Last year, I used to go to Open Mic almost every month, driving the hour from Shirone to church here in Niigata city, and then walking to the restaurant where it was held. Often I would come early and meet some other girls for dinner, or meet a group of friends at the restaurant. It was a good place of social connections with a lot of different people, and a comfortable time to invite young people to come hang out to get to know them better... But watching the old DVDs again, I realized again that the hanging out, loud music, and drinking wasn't really how I liked to hang out. Even though I miss Ef a lot, and I miss the girls that I used to hang out with at Open Mic, I remember plenty of months when I would fake a phone call or something just to step outside the restaurant and get some fresh air, plaster on another smile, and step back inside. There was this random dichotomy of loving the people and also realizing that hanging out there was, in essence, putting me in "full ministry mode," as Cindy says here for things that are purely work. :)

I haven't really gone to Open Mic recently, and my job has taken a distinct turn from hanging out socially building relationships on the outside to being at and inside the church. Sometimes I look at how much time I'm at church and think to myself, "This isn't me at all!" Sometimes I find myself hanging out talking with the older people after the services and think, "Should I really be here...?" The ministry and what I do so different from what it was, and yet, as Lindsey so aptly put it a few days ago, "We're learning here that there are more than two opposites on any given subject/choice..."

I guess what I'm trying to process in words here is this feeling of being a fluid, shadowy person...not having any outline or shape of my own. I've been here for two years, and what's been done? Who am I? Have I ever done things that I'm gifted at? What does it mean to be gifted at something? On the good days, I remember that God gets the glory for everything, and He's the One who's accomplished anything good over the last two-plus years...on the bad days, I think that all that's been accomplished since I've come here is that I've messed up an awful lot, spent a lot of people's time and energy, lost who I ever was, and been ridiculously selfish in all of it. Talk about bouncing between positive and negative thinking! It wears a person out just trying to process life.

On a more upbeat, grace-filled note: Last week in the evening worship times we read Psalm 16, which at one point says, "Lord, you have assigned me my portion and my cup; you have made my lot secure. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places..." I keep thinking about it and try to see how it fits my very fluid personality...it's very reassuring to know that no matter who I am or how I've screwed up, God's the One who's drawn my boundary lines. Does that mean that I don't have to confess my screwups? No. Does that mean that I don't need to learn things like obedience? No. Does that mean that sanctification and discipleship don't need to happen? No. But it does mean that God knew what He was getting into when He made me...even if I don't know where my boundaries or outlines are necessarily, I believe He'll keep revealing them to me as I need them...