So, this blog has been a venting/learning/celebrating/sharing point throughout this year back in the States and at school. "Through the Looking Glass" has been a good theme for this year--so much of the struggle has involved relationship, separation, longing, loneliness, and new-found relationships and joy. Lessons learned:
- God will provide--not just physically, but emotionally.
- HOPE is a focusing on a future that is sure and certain through Jesus.
- No matter what broken relationships I experience now, and no matter what the sadness, eternity will be restored, complete, full...the closeness of a relationship with God is more than enough. We WILL see God face to face...
I'm sure that there are more things. :) And I may come back to this blog and post on and off as I experience "murky glass" things, but I'm going to move most of my posting to a new blog focused more around ministry and life in Fukushima.
Here is the link: http://byfaithinfukushima.blogspot.com/
Catch you on the flip side...
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Thursday, May 6, 2010
I don't know how to say goodbye
After three days of sleeping more and still stumbling through the daylight, I finally decided that this trudging through fog is maybe more mental and emotional than physical...and so last night I found myself walking out towards the swing-set next to school with two sweaters, an ipod, and Amber's blue-and-white checkered "band blanket" that's slightly ragged from similar times of me dragging it out and about.
Sitting on that swing was like opening a floodgate to snapshots of memories, which cycled through my head just as easily as if I were sitting at a computer clicking the "next" button to scroll through a folder of pictures.
Click.
My first birthday away from home. I spent the day doing homework and went out to the playground for an hour or so just to think on that day...processing through what it meant to be away from home, to be moving out, to be growing up...
Click.
Voices, laughter...four friends gathered in the darkness around the brightest light pole on the playground. We had our Bibles opened to Luke and were reading through it, commenting on what we were learning and praying for each other and the world...
Click.
Kevin and I on a Sunday afternoon my freshman year. He had his camera, and we were wandering down Summit, stopping often to take pictures of the flowering trees...I can still see, in the memory, his thoughtful, passionate, processing look as he asks me, "If you had to pick one Bible verse to focus your life, what would it be...?" Oh, Kevin. From you I learned about core values...the Bible, praying...
Click.
Inside the room that Gwen and I shared in Hyatt. Christmas with Matt, Emily, Paul, Gwen my sophomore year...the big stuffed chair that Greg or Matt would sleep in when they did not want to drive home at night, since they lived off campus. Then I heard Gwen's voice in my mind, saw us walking amidst the lilacs one spring, talking about restoration and big-picture vision versus small-picture administration. Oh, Gwen...stories about dentists, losing keys, and most of all grace...grace...
Click.
One dance with Luke the fall of my freshman year. I did not know that such an intense guy would have devoted time to learning how to dance, but I felt free and safe letting him spin me around and lead me...
Click.
Luke standing ahead of me at FISH one night, arms outstretched in praise. The guy has a wingspan that takes up six chairs...or at least it seemed like it. Tall, exuding strength...standing open and vulnerable before a God who he seemed to know and see...
Click.
Katy leading Bible study, singing in stair wells, wandering around talking about boys and life and God's leading. Her face scrunched up as she leans her head on my shoulder, wiggling her nose back and forth and making me laugh and feel loved all at the same time. Her honesty...Aileen...Bob...Josi...Aj...
Click.
Eric. Bringing me a glass of water when I had a fever during our home concert my sophomore year. Sitting next to me after Holden, just staying with me while I cried...basketball with Kevin and I...
I have tied the blanket around my shoulders, and it blows out behind me like a crazy super-hero's cape as I sit and just...remember. And as I sit, I think to myself, "God...I don't know how to say goodbye."
I stare up into the sky and think that instead of Japan, I should be moving to some country where they kill Christians...some place where I don't have to keep leaving, keep remembering, keep experiencing the brokenness of relationships...
And as I sit, and think, a girl stumbles up behind me and sits immediately down on the swing next to mine. Her sway and giggle raises red flags for me, and I start to pray for her and pray for words. After a few minutes of swinging in silence, we start to talk and chat.
And there I sat. Feet in the sand, super-hero cape around my shoulders. Super-hero I am not. But I chatted with the girl and tried to make sure that she was ok. And it hit me again that there is a reason for my every breath. Not just experiencing death, sorrow, brokenness, and goodbyes...but experiencing life, relationships, love, care...offering and receiving grace...
After all, that is what those memories are. Expressions of grace.
I don't know how to say goodbye. It physically halts me in my tracks, mentally blocks everything that I do. I spent two hours today curled up on the floor of my room, unable to leave, to think, to...deal with life and transitions and goodbyes. I don't know how to do this.
One foot in front of the other. Recognizing the memories that I'll hold and the blessings that were and are...that's going to have to be good enough for now.
Sitting on that swing was like opening a floodgate to snapshots of memories, which cycled through my head just as easily as if I were sitting at a computer clicking the "next" button to scroll through a folder of pictures.
Click.
My first birthday away from home. I spent the day doing homework and went out to the playground for an hour or so just to think on that day...processing through what it meant to be away from home, to be moving out, to be growing up...
Click.
Voices, laughter...four friends gathered in the darkness around the brightest light pole on the playground. We had our Bibles opened to Luke and were reading through it, commenting on what we were learning and praying for each other and the world...
Click.
Kevin and I on a Sunday afternoon my freshman year. He had his camera, and we were wandering down Summit, stopping often to take pictures of the flowering trees...I can still see, in the memory, his thoughtful, passionate, processing look as he asks me, "If you had to pick one Bible verse to focus your life, what would it be...?" Oh, Kevin. From you I learned about core values...the Bible, praying...
Click.
Inside the room that Gwen and I shared in Hyatt. Christmas with Matt, Emily, Paul, Gwen my sophomore year...the big stuffed chair that Greg or Matt would sleep in when they did not want to drive home at night, since they lived off campus. Then I heard Gwen's voice in my mind, saw us walking amidst the lilacs one spring, talking about restoration and big-picture vision versus small-picture administration. Oh, Gwen...stories about dentists, losing keys, and most of all grace...grace...
Click.
One dance with Luke the fall of my freshman year. I did not know that such an intense guy would have devoted time to learning how to dance, but I felt free and safe letting him spin me around and lead me...
Click.
Luke standing ahead of me at FISH one night, arms outstretched in praise. The guy has a wingspan that takes up six chairs...or at least it seemed like it. Tall, exuding strength...standing open and vulnerable before a God who he seemed to know and see...
Click.
Katy leading Bible study, singing in stair wells, wandering around talking about boys and life and God's leading. Her face scrunched up as she leans her head on my shoulder, wiggling her nose back and forth and making me laugh and feel loved all at the same time. Her honesty...Aileen...Bob...Josi...Aj...
Click.
Eric. Bringing me a glass of water when I had a fever during our home concert my sophomore year. Sitting next to me after Holden, just staying with me while I cried...basketball with Kevin and I...
I have tied the blanket around my shoulders, and it blows out behind me like a crazy super-hero's cape as I sit and just...remember. And as I sit, I think to myself, "God...I don't know how to say goodbye."
I stare up into the sky and think that instead of Japan, I should be moving to some country where they kill Christians...some place where I don't have to keep leaving, keep remembering, keep experiencing the brokenness of relationships...
And as I sit, and think, a girl stumbles up behind me and sits immediately down on the swing next to mine. Her sway and giggle raises red flags for me, and I start to pray for her and pray for words. After a few minutes of swinging in silence, we start to talk and chat.
And there I sat. Feet in the sand, super-hero cape around my shoulders. Super-hero I am not. But I chatted with the girl and tried to make sure that she was ok. And it hit me again that there is a reason for my every breath. Not just experiencing death, sorrow, brokenness, and goodbyes...but experiencing life, relationships, love, care...offering and receiving grace...
After all, that is what those memories are. Expressions of grace.
I don't know how to say goodbye. It physically halts me in my tracks, mentally blocks everything that I do. I spent two hours today curled up on the floor of my room, unable to leave, to think, to...deal with life and transitions and goodbyes. I don't know how to do this.
One foot in front of the other. Recognizing the memories that I'll hold and the blessings that were and are...that's going to have to be good enough for now.
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