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.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Homework Thoughts
So, I'm working, and I can't use my laptop, but I do have the internet...and a google document is not getting my brain juices flowing, so I'm going to try typing random homework-y thoughts here...there's the warning. :)
For a final paper in my intro to lit class, I have to choose two texts and compare and contrast them...not hard, right? The difficulty comes in that there are so many lovely things to choose from...I'm pretty much sold on Aimee Bender's "The Rememberer" and am leaning towards Dylan Thomas' "Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night" for the second text, but I'm having problems fleshing out the ideas or main points for the paper...so here are random thoughts. :)
"The Rememberer" is a woman's story of the last month of her lover's life. Instead of dying from natural causes, her lover, Ben, is dying because "reverse evolution." The short story depicts the unnamed woman's struggle to deal with Ben the lover, the ape, the sea turtle, the salamander. As she watches her lover die in pieces, she clings to memories, lessons, normal habits--anything that might "bring him back" into her life. In a poignant self-realization, after seeing Ben as a salamander in a glass baking pan full of water on her cupboard, she finally says, "This is the limit of my limits: here it is. You don't ever know for sure where it is and then you bump against it and bam, you're there. Because I cannot bear to look down into the water and not be able to find him at all, to search the tiny clear waves with a microscope lens and to locate my lover, the one-celled wonder, bloated and bordered, brainless, benign, heading clear and small like an eye-floater into nothingness."
In the same way, "Do Not Go Gentle..." also reveals the struggles of a person letting go of one he loves--this time, a son saying goodbye to his father. The son asks his father to struggle, to fight..."rage, rage against the dying of the light." He tells of the lives and deaths of wise men, good men, wild men, and grave men, insisting that his father follow their example and fight to live. In Thomas' picture of the young son pleading with his father, I see Bender's unnamed young woman, dripping tears into a glass baking dish that holds the salamander that was her lover. Grieving. Recognizing the loss and the separation.
In some ways, though their grief draws them together, their method of grieving is wholly different. The son still asks for a fight; the woman realizes that her fight to cope has reached its limit, and it is time to for her to say goodbye.
Another point of contrast between the two pictures of grief and loss is the reason for the separation and death of the loved ones. In "Do Not Go Gentle...," the father is dying because of old age, and he shares mortality with all those who have gone before them, no matter what their personality. In "The Rememberer," the de-evolution process starts to occur because of sadness and an unspoken choice to turn away from the thought that stifles feeling and is so much a part of our world's idea of success.
When one reads these two texts side by side, one realizes that they raise just as many questions about life as they raise about death. What makes a human life successful or valuable? Is it the life-long struggle against mortality? If everyone dies, is it really important to differentiate between those who are wise, or good, or wild? Is it the knowledge and thought that betters the human existence? Is it, as Ben suggests, simply a feeling, living by the heart? At what point is life no longer a life? At what point can life no longer sustain relationship? Thomas' "Do Not Go Gentle...," written in 1951, seems to focus on natural death from old age, but "The Rememberer," written in 1998, hints at the controversies and pain in society regarding alziehmers, dementia, depression, and other sickness that would seem to maybe bring loss before the actual physical death.
A reader who reflects upon both of these texts may come to the conclusion that although the themes of death and grief run through both pieces of literature, the texts are different in their portrayal of grief, reason for death, and depiction of life. They are more different than they are similar. However, an over-arching similarity can be found in the profundity of the images used in the texts to depict grief and loss. Bender is quoted as having said that "it's easier to talk about things when there's a metaphor to see them through." In the same way, both Thomas' poem and Bender's short story give readers words to help capture, see, and speak of an experience that truly goes beyond words, bumps us right up into our "limits" of coping, and leaves us with a solitude that is imprisoning. Bender and Thomas' works are an effort to reach out across that expanding, binding solitude and pain and share the experience of living with mortality.
Sigh. At least, that's what these two texts do for me. This is where my theological training comes in--these texts are clear pictures of "seeing through a glass darkly," and the brokenness and separation that we all experience in life practically every day. The brokenness is real...the pain is real...so real that we have to use metaphors and rhyme to capture a glimpse of the depth of our experiences with brokenness...
Whoever said that people are not interested in God? How can they not be interested in God? These pieces practically scream an interest...a longing...a need for God...and a recognition of sin and shame and pain...
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Standing on the doorstep...
Mailed two signed contracts off to Japan today, and suddenly realized that I will need plane tickets soon! Last night I was so excited--today I feel already the steeling of my heart and the alone-ness of journeying that feels so familiar, and so painful. The questions abound: why does God create us for relationship if our relationships will always be broken? Why does He call us to trust each other, when we are all so untrustworthy? Why can I not simply live in a cave and not relate to the world? Can I ever get away from fear and pain in relationships? How can I let His love fill me and get my own fears and desires out of the way?
And finally, simply, selfishly, and childishly...how much will this new journey and uprooting and moving hurt?
Prayers, friends, please...I should have expected this--did expect it, I guess. But I still don't know the answer to the questions...only know to walk and pray that God carries me when my own fear and hurt paralyzes me and I'm unable to move forward...and I know that He does.
There is joy and peace and new lessons and love along the way...I know that. It is truth, not logic or feeling...simply truth.
I hate the murkiness of the glass, the separation, the darkness!!!! When can we see face to face, be fully known?...how much I long for that!!
And finally, simply, selfishly, and childishly...how much will this new journey and uprooting and moving hurt?
Prayers, friends, please...I should have expected this--did expect it, I guess. But I still don't know the answer to the questions...only know to walk and pray that God carries me when my own fear and hurt paralyzes me and I'm unable to move forward...and I know that He does.
There is joy and peace and new lessons and love along the way...I know that. It is truth, not logic or feeling...simply truth.
I hate the murkiness of the glass, the separation, the darkness!!!! When can we see face to face, be fully known?...how much I long for that!!
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Moments
Living with three girls who identify themselves with disney princesses this year up at school has taught me a lot about different disney stories and songs. I find myself singing Aladdin at random intervals throughout the day on a regular basis, and when all of us girls get together we randomly talk about dresses, shoes, princes, and the like. :) The funny thing about Disney movies is that there is always a moment in them--the moment that the prince rescues the princess and all is certainly well...the moment when torn and dirty rags are turned into beautiful evening gowns, and magic is in the air...the moment when somehow, by reaching deep down, the heroine or hero finds the power to succeed. The viewer of the movie can usually tell when a moment is coming because of the music, which builds to a climactic point...
Anyway, enough about disney. :)
I walked into class today and my professor started talking about how God gives us moments and wants us to enjoy them. They are not the disney-style moments accompanied by stringed instruments necessarily...but they are moments of peace, joy, love...blessing. My professor went on to read from Tolkien's Return of the King...the moment when Sam and Frodo are in the darkness of Mordor, and Sam looks up and finds one bright star shimmering above the heavy clouds and oppression. The bright star was a moment--a time of peace, of hope...in the midst of darkness, light and joy.
I was struck by that, because I've been thinking of "normal" moments of blessing all weekend...so here are a few in an attempt to document and give praise for them...snapshots of joy and love:
- Three friends gathered around a bowl of popcorn drizzled with honey and butter...
- Ben's face as he watches the people around him sing...
- Being woken up by the whining of Shep and seeing the sunrise in my pajamas and a blanket...
- Honest conversations that communicate trust and grace better than any disney song... :)
- Seeing countless stars that proclaim God's faithfulness...
- The daily conversation of a family...
- Hanging laundry together and cutting garlic...
- Experiencing failure together...loving, gentle competition...off-key music and laughter...
I wish I was a poet, so I could communicate not only these scenes or snapshots but the smile that stretches all the way across my soul in these moments of life...truly, salvation and grace and love are not things that are separate from the human existence...not just things that come to us through moments of romance, finery, or perfection...but things that are captured in countless moments of living that are scattered through each of our physical steps...and I am so thankful for the blessings of each moment.
Anyway, enough about disney. :)
I walked into class today and my professor started talking about how God gives us moments and wants us to enjoy them. They are not the disney-style moments accompanied by stringed instruments necessarily...but they are moments of peace, joy, love...blessing. My professor went on to read from Tolkien's Return of the King...the moment when Sam and Frodo are in the darkness of Mordor, and Sam looks up and finds one bright star shimmering above the heavy clouds and oppression. The bright star was a moment--a time of peace, of hope...in the midst of darkness, light and joy.
I was struck by that, because I've been thinking of "normal" moments of blessing all weekend...so here are a few in an attempt to document and give praise for them...snapshots of joy and love:
- Three friends gathered around a bowl of popcorn drizzled with honey and butter...
- Ben's face as he watches the people around him sing...
- Being woken up by the whining of Shep and seeing the sunrise in my pajamas and a blanket...
- Honest conversations that communicate trust and grace better than any disney song... :)
- Seeing countless stars that proclaim God's faithfulness...
- The daily conversation of a family...
- Hanging laundry together and cutting garlic...
- Experiencing failure together...loving, gentle competition...off-key music and laughter...
I wish I was a poet, so I could communicate not only these scenes or snapshots but the smile that stretches all the way across my soul in these moments of life...truly, salvation and grace and love are not things that are separate from the human existence...not just things that come to us through moments of romance, finery, or perfection...but things that are captured in countless moments of living that are scattered through each of our physical steps...and I am so thankful for the blessings of each moment.
Friday, March 19, 2010
Waiting
Strength will rise as we wait upon the Lord
We will wait upon the Lord
We will wait upon the Lord
Our God, You reign forever
Our hope, our Strong Deliverer
You are the everlasting God
The everlasting God
You do not faint
You won't grow weary
You're the defender of the weak
You comfort those in need
You lift us up on wings like eagles
Because of daylight savings time, when I rolled out of bed at 6:15am on Wednesday morning this week to run it was pitch-black outside. I stumbled down to the exercise room with my ipod, squinting against the fake light in the stairwell, and settled down to run with some Chris Tomlin music. The exericse room is set up so those running or using the machines can mostly face several big windows looking outside, and it is just possible to see the sky above some of the surrounding buildings. I ran for a few minutes before the song "Everlasting God" came on (the song above), and in those few minutes I was struck by the change from darkness to light as the sunrise started to peak above the surrounding buildings.
Strength will rise as we wait upon the Lord.
And maybe because it is Lent, I thought of the darkness and horrible grimness of death and a cold tomb...I thought of being sealed in despair...and then I thought of the rising light as light pouring into the tomb through the cracks as the stone is rolled away, death is defeated, and life and light become the reality again... The darkness of the tomb...the light and new life--such different pictures! Yet God is present in both, and His character doesn't change in the dark...in fact, the darkness of the tomb is what brought life to us...
Last post I talked about the haziness of the future...maybe the joy I felt in watching the sunrise came from the knowledge that no matter how unclear my future is right now, God brings light, strength, direction, joy...
I feel like this transition period of my life is one of waiting with baited breath and awe to see Him direct the sunrise over this next season...
We will wait upon the Lord
We will wait upon the Lord
Our God, You reign forever
Our hope, our Strong Deliverer
You are the everlasting God
The everlasting God
You do not faint
You won't grow weary
You're the defender of the weak
You comfort those in need
You lift us up on wings like eagles
Because of daylight savings time, when I rolled out of bed at 6:15am on Wednesday morning this week to run it was pitch-black outside. I stumbled down to the exercise room with my ipod, squinting against the fake light in the stairwell, and settled down to run with some Chris Tomlin music. The exericse room is set up so those running or using the machines can mostly face several big windows looking outside, and it is just possible to see the sky above some of the surrounding buildings. I ran for a few minutes before the song "Everlasting God" came on (the song above), and in those few minutes I was struck by the change from darkness to light as the sunrise started to peak above the surrounding buildings.
Strength will rise as we wait upon the Lord.
And maybe because it is Lent, I thought of the darkness and horrible grimness of death and a cold tomb...I thought of being sealed in despair...and then I thought of the rising light as light pouring into the tomb through the cracks as the stone is rolled away, death is defeated, and life and light become the reality again... The darkness of the tomb...the light and new life--such different pictures! Yet God is present in both, and His character doesn't change in the dark...in fact, the darkness of the tomb is what brought life to us...
Last post I talked about the haziness of the future...maybe the joy I felt in watching the sunrise came from the knowledge that no matter how unclear my future is right now, God brings light, strength, direction, joy...
I feel like this transition period of my life is one of waiting with baited breath and awe to see Him direct the sunrise over this next season...
Sunday, March 14, 2010
For Thee the hammer holds...
"So dream a little dream for me, in hopes that I'll remain,
And cry a little, cry for me, so I can bear the flame,
And hurt a little, hurt for me, my future is untold,
My dreams are not the issue here, for thee the hammer holds."
About a month ago I was introduced to Bebo Norman's "The Hammer Holds." For those of you who haven't heard the song, check it out here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eKS4UQ7xev4&feature=fvst. It is a song that has been echoing through my head ever since I heard it, because it is so clearly a song of calling, of growing, of crying and stretching and pain and beauty...I was especially convicted by the last line in the chorus: "My dreams are not the issue here, for thee the hammer holds." God has given me so many dreams and blessings. My time at Nozomi was totally a time of living miracles and seeing dreams turn into reality, and I've been walking down a path of real-life dreams the last couple of months.
Everything is coming together for the Fukushima English school, working with Nomura-sensei and Cindy again, seeing people that I love dearly...we have an apartment, a class schedule, the beginnings of a website, and probably crazy-scattered ideas about harmony, truth, love, and joy and how all of those themes can combine into a good English curriculum. :) Through all of it though, the sentence that has started to roll through my head again and again is simply "my dreams are not the issue, for thee the hammer holds." What will it look like--this English school partnership? This decision to come back to Japan has not been made easily. I know that it will be different from Nozomi. I realize that again I am entering a world of living as a kindergartner, with limited vocab and the high stress of not knowing anything and feeling like a failure at everything. Relationships with church members, with students...times of music and prayer...new commutes and new materials...it is all something hazy that I know is up ahead and that has been breaking into my American reality ever since last June, really. :)
One would think that something that's been hazy for almost 10 months would be starting to have a clearer picture. :) No, no...only more confusion. There is so much haze that the only thing certain now is the need to pray. Besides the haze of the future, there is also the haze of the present. Eric's name has come up every so often on this blog...this last week we had discussions like, "What would you think about teaching in Fukushima at a conversation school? Some different company? Can we actually be near each other in the future...?" The more we talk about these things, and the more that I spend time with him, I more sure I am about what kinds of dreams I have in that regard...but again, my dreams aren't the issue here, because God holds the hammer.
In some ways, it is so reassuring. There is so much I might want to manipulate--good jobs and incomes and schedules in Fukushima for Cindy and Eric and I. But we don't even know if we'll have students, let alone finances and good schedules. :) It has to be God opening doors and showing us opportunities...
What if He doesn't bring enough students for Cindy and I? What if He doesn't open up a job for Eric? What if time and distance separate me even more from my family and friends and make me unfit for any reality? What if I simply break down, become crazy, and end up in a psych ward?..."My dreams are not the issue here, for thee the hammer holds"...
It's good...and so much in need of prayer and listening...one last song to sum up the plea of this time:
Take oh, take me as I am
Summon out what I shall be
Set your Spirit in my heart
And live in me...
And cry a little, cry for me, so I can bear the flame,
And hurt a little, hurt for me, my future is untold,
My dreams are not the issue here, for thee the hammer holds."
About a month ago I was introduced to Bebo Norman's "The Hammer Holds." For those of you who haven't heard the song, check it out here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eKS4UQ7xev4&feature=fvst. It is a song that has been echoing through my head ever since I heard it, because it is so clearly a song of calling, of growing, of crying and stretching and pain and beauty...I was especially convicted by the last line in the chorus: "My dreams are not the issue here, for thee the hammer holds." God has given me so many dreams and blessings. My time at Nozomi was totally a time of living miracles and seeing dreams turn into reality, and I've been walking down a path of real-life dreams the last couple of months.
Everything is coming together for the Fukushima English school, working with Nomura-sensei and Cindy again, seeing people that I love dearly...we have an apartment, a class schedule, the beginnings of a website, and probably crazy-scattered ideas about harmony, truth, love, and joy and how all of those themes can combine into a good English curriculum. :) Through all of it though, the sentence that has started to roll through my head again and again is simply "my dreams are not the issue, for thee the hammer holds." What will it look like--this English school partnership? This decision to come back to Japan has not been made easily. I know that it will be different from Nozomi. I realize that again I am entering a world of living as a kindergartner, with limited vocab and the high stress of not knowing anything and feeling like a failure at everything. Relationships with church members, with students...times of music and prayer...new commutes and new materials...it is all something hazy that I know is up ahead and that has been breaking into my American reality ever since last June, really. :)
One would think that something that's been hazy for almost 10 months would be starting to have a clearer picture. :) No, no...only more confusion. There is so much haze that the only thing certain now is the need to pray. Besides the haze of the future, there is also the haze of the present. Eric's name has come up every so often on this blog...this last week we had discussions like, "What would you think about teaching in Fukushima at a conversation school? Some different company? Can we actually be near each other in the future...?" The more we talk about these things, and the more that I spend time with him, I more sure I am about what kinds of dreams I have in that regard...but again, my dreams aren't the issue here, because God holds the hammer.
In some ways, it is so reassuring. There is so much I might want to manipulate--good jobs and incomes and schedules in Fukushima for Cindy and Eric and I. But we don't even know if we'll have students, let alone finances and good schedules. :) It has to be God opening doors and showing us opportunities...
What if He doesn't bring enough students for Cindy and I? What if He doesn't open up a job for Eric? What if time and distance separate me even more from my family and friends and make me unfit for any reality? What if I simply break down, become crazy, and end up in a psych ward?..."My dreams are not the issue here, for thee the hammer holds"...
It's good...and so much in need of prayer and listening...one last song to sum up the plea of this time:
Take oh, take me as I am
Summon out what I shall be
Set your Spirit in my heart
And live in me...
Thursday, January 14, 2010
And it begins...
I was just checking my email before sliding into bed (since it is well into the am here) when it dawned on me, "I haven't checked that one syllabus for my Thursday night class yet."
Since class starts next Wednesday, I didn't think that it was so dire for me to check my syllabi yet, but lo and behold upon opening the syllabus I learned that I have one book, another 200 or so pages in another book, and written answers to several questions all due next Thursday night for our first Thursday night class period. Ugh. Double ugh.
So my (hopefully) last semester as an undergrad student begins. Or will begin. Or apparently began, and I'm already behind. :( Blah...
While talking with Eric and Brian tonight, we discussed several different versions of reality...one topic we discussed was time, and how as humans we chaff against the constraints that time places on us. With sentences like, "Time sure flies," or "There simply isn't enough time in a day!" we express pain over the fact that we are stuck in this temporal, limited existence--people made by God to experience eternity! Which brings me back to that "seeing through a glass darkly" and the looking forward to seeing face to face and the knowing outside of time that will happen in heaven...
In the meantime, I'll just be scurrying around, trying to cram as many words and concepts and relationships and jobs and life into my head as I possibly can...I know, it's a personal choice, and God will bring times of rest...sigh. I'm going to bed; this will all look more doable in the morning. :)
Since class starts next Wednesday, I didn't think that it was so dire for me to check my syllabi yet, but lo and behold upon opening the syllabus I learned that I have one book, another 200 or so pages in another book, and written answers to several questions all due next Thursday night for our first Thursday night class period. Ugh. Double ugh.
So my (hopefully) last semester as an undergrad student begins. Or will begin. Or apparently began, and I'm already behind. :( Blah...
While talking with Eric and Brian tonight, we discussed several different versions of reality...one topic we discussed was time, and how as humans we chaff against the constraints that time places on us. With sentences like, "Time sure flies," or "There simply isn't enough time in a day!" we express pain over the fact that we are stuck in this temporal, limited existence--people made by God to experience eternity! Which brings me back to that "seeing through a glass darkly" and the looking forward to seeing face to face and the knowing outside of time that will happen in heaven...
In the meantime, I'll just be scurrying around, trying to cram as many words and concepts and relationships and jobs and life into my head as I possibly can...I know, it's a personal choice, and God will bring times of rest...sigh. I'm going to bed; this will all look more doable in the morning. :)
Thursday, January 7, 2010
"Cry out to Jesus"
Since we haven't had any homework/work nagging at us over these last few weeks, it has been awhile since Brian and I have sat down and chatted, so tonight we took the opportunity to sit down for awhile and catch up on life. We have a relationship that was built maybe on desperation and necessity (Brian needed internet, and I needed a friend that I didn't have to talk to :)), so there is a certain level of candidness that we can reach, and processing through some of our earlier discussion during these "wee hours of the morning" has led to a couple aha moments. Of course, they may not truly be so "aha!"-ish, but go easy on a tired brain here... :)
The brilliant realization is (drum roll!) that human beings are flawed right now. This is why I always feel this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach when people want to get "too close"...there is absolutely no way that I can hide my flaws from them or hide their flaws from myself. Again and again I have heard things like, "I really appreciate your faith" or "I really appreciate your values" or "Your Christian walk inspires me." But the truth that these guys aren't seeing is that my faith is always going up, down, and all around--rarely is it stable and a "sure thing" that will keep me involved in the religious traditions around me. My values may seem ok, like compassion and honesty and things like that...but in the end, it comes down to valuing myself. Selfishness will trump every time, because that is just the way that my nature operates right now...maybe I am not training it enough? Grrr for this stupid mirror and the fact that the darkness that clouds it comes from not only outside, but inside my very desires and motivations!! Is trusting others even an option? I can't even trust myself and my own heart!!
As I've been reflecting and writing on all of this, the Third Day song entitled "Cry out to Jesus" came up, and since hearing it I've been listening to it again and again...especially the chorus:
There is hope for the helpless, rest for the weary, and love for the broken heart. There is grace and forgiveness, mercy and healing, to meet you wherever you are…cry out to Jesus.
And again I am reminded that God's greatest pictures of healing and restoration involved a bloody cross, a woman crying at a grave...and more frequently seen "pictures"--you and I, caught up in torn and wounding relationships that somehow can be healed and blessed by God and bring blessing and joy. I'm still scared...
The brilliant realization is (drum roll!) that human beings are flawed right now. This is why I always feel this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach when people want to get "too close"...there is absolutely no way that I can hide my flaws from them or hide their flaws from myself. Again and again I have heard things like, "I really appreciate your faith" or "I really appreciate your values" or "Your Christian walk inspires me." But the truth that these guys aren't seeing is that my faith is always going up, down, and all around--rarely is it stable and a "sure thing" that will keep me involved in the religious traditions around me. My values may seem ok, like compassion and honesty and things like that...but in the end, it comes down to valuing myself. Selfishness will trump every time, because that is just the way that my nature operates right now...maybe I am not training it enough? Grrr for this stupid mirror and the fact that the darkness that clouds it comes from not only outside, but inside my very desires and motivations!! Is trusting others even an option? I can't even trust myself and my own heart!!
As I've been reflecting and writing on all of this, the Third Day song entitled "Cry out to Jesus" came up, and since hearing it I've been listening to it again and again...especially the chorus:
There is hope for the helpless, rest for the weary, and love for the broken heart. There is grace and forgiveness, mercy and healing, to meet you wherever you are…cry out to Jesus.
And again I am reminded that God's greatest pictures of healing and restoration involved a bloody cross, a woman crying at a grave...and more frequently seen "pictures"--you and I, caught up in torn and wounding relationships that somehow can be healed and blessed by God and bring blessing and joy. I'm still scared...
Monday, January 4, 2010
Cleaning...
Today a few of us spent most of our day helping clean, sort, and throw-away different things belonging to a woman who died recently. It was crazy...I have moved before and have dealt with the emotions involved in sorting and throwing things out, but I have never before witnessed what happens when one person "moves away" before the his or her other half has moved on... The husband of the woman who died struggled as he showed us things that had belonged to his wife. We heard stories, folded clothes, cleaned dirt...and I watched and prayed and sang under my breath songs about peace and light as I was faced with his pain.
There are looks that communicate, without words, a torture of the soul. Separation of loves, of family...I feel almost as though I stepped into a home with a happy relationship and tore out half of that relationship, leaving bleeding veins and broken bones behind...
What do people do who don't have hope past this life? How can they get past the boxes and clothing bags and garbages? How do they get past the tombstone and well-wishers and empty chairs, beds, and rooms at home? I don't think that it is just because I am naive that I find comfort in my faith at this time...
For some reason, the pain today did not make me run from God or from people. I left the house reflecting on how right it seemed to have had a family inside that house and to have a family still, in some respects, through the memories and pictures and traditions. Lives were intertwined there, and that seemed...somehow right. And God blessed them with that time, with that place, with those memories and moments where joy was so obvious that they had to laugh and smile and document it with a picture or something else.
Interesting day...sigh...over and over again, the prayer from 天国にあるもの went through my head, as well as this plea from Holden Evening Prayer:
"God of daybreak, God of shadows, come and light our hearts anew...Mighty God of all creation, gentle Christ, who lights our way, loving Spirit of salvation lead us on to endless day."
There are looks that communicate, without words, a torture of the soul. Separation of loves, of family...I feel almost as though I stepped into a home with a happy relationship and tore out half of that relationship, leaving bleeding veins and broken bones behind...
What do people do who don't have hope past this life? How can they get past the boxes and clothing bags and garbages? How do they get past the tombstone and well-wishers and empty chairs, beds, and rooms at home? I don't think that it is just because I am naive that I find comfort in my faith at this time...
For some reason, the pain today did not make me run from God or from people. I left the house reflecting on how right it seemed to have had a family inside that house and to have a family still, in some respects, through the memories and pictures and traditions. Lives were intertwined there, and that seemed...somehow right. And God blessed them with that time, with that place, with those memories and moments where joy was so obvious that they had to laugh and smile and document it with a picture or something else.
Interesting day...sigh...over and over again, the prayer from 天国にあるもの went through my head, as well as this plea from Holden Evening Prayer:
"God of daybreak, God of shadows, come and light our hearts anew...Mighty God of all creation, gentle Christ, who lights our way, loving Spirit of salvation lead us on to endless day."
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Vulnerability vs. Safety
"To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket --safe, dark, motionless, airless-- it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable." - Clive Staples Lewis.
A few of my friends have been passing this quote back and forth in some of our emails, and it has caught my eye more than once over the last couple of weeks. I was simply thinking of it tonight without even reading it...thinking of how often I put up walls and put my relationships in boxes so I do not have to truly be vulnerable OR truly love people. Tonight for the first time I saw the house of a friend I've known for 7 years...I just met some of his friends...spent time hanging out on his turf, watching him do things that are a normal part of his life rather than keeping him following my plans on my turf. Sigh. I'm such a jerk. Why has it taken me 7 years to do that? When is protection good, and when should a person be vulnerable? Can a person be both safe and vulnerable at the same time? Wouldn't that be an oxymoron?
Along with these thoughts there are the few minutes--not many, of course--that remind me that I could somehow have a "normal" life if...I don't know how. But there are moments when I'm sure it is possible, and then I wonder how all of these strands will come together. Sigh again.
I don't even know what selfishness or vulnerability means right now...again, another reminder of why grace is important. But I do know that God has called us to love. And I can trust God's protection. And even if all of that is confusing and messed up and wrong, I can trust in God's redemption. :)
A few of my friends have been passing this quote back and forth in some of our emails, and it has caught my eye more than once over the last couple of weeks. I was simply thinking of it tonight without even reading it...thinking of how often I put up walls and put my relationships in boxes so I do not have to truly be vulnerable OR truly love people. Tonight for the first time I saw the house of a friend I've known for 7 years...I just met some of his friends...spent time hanging out on his turf, watching him do things that are a normal part of his life rather than keeping him following my plans on my turf. Sigh. I'm such a jerk. Why has it taken me 7 years to do that? When is protection good, and when should a person be vulnerable? Can a person be both safe and vulnerable at the same time? Wouldn't that be an oxymoron?
Along with these thoughts there are the few minutes--not many, of course--that remind me that I could somehow have a "normal" life if...I don't know how. But there are moments when I'm sure it is possible, and then I wonder how all of these strands will come together. Sigh again.
I don't even know what selfishness or vulnerability means right now...again, another reminder of why grace is important. But I do know that God has called us to love. And I can trust God's protection. And even if all of that is confusing and messed up and wrong, I can trust in God's redemption. :)
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Advent thoughts
O come, O come, Emmanuel
And ransom captive Israel
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.
So, in the last two days...or the last day (I'm in the middle of this strange night-day confusion that comes from working overnights several days in a row) I've had two conversations of absolute beauty...conversations of relationship and separation and hope and longing...conversations brimming over with love, with hearts' cries to know and be known...conversations of rescue and restoration...
One conversation was with an agnostic who couldn't quite accept how science and faith always came across as being opposite from each other. When I asked him about faith, he said that more important than defining and putting faith in terms and boxes he would rather grow, question, experience with love and authenticity. Moments when he experiences right relationship are moments that are spiritual to him, but the Christians around him won't buy it and say he is not blessed. "What would slapping on the label of 'Christian' really mean?" he asked...
The other conversation was with Eric, who was talking about singing "O Come, O Come Emmanuel" today and how excited he was for it. Somehow, as he passionately spoke about the exile, mourning, pain, and longing, and the call for God to come and be near, my mind was filled with flashing images and poetry, and the words from my previous conversation echoed in my mind.
Love. The authenticity that is seen when someone is mourning, groaning, crying, in exile away from their beloved. Then suddenly, brilliant flashes of light, songs of joy, a flood of peace, and the warmth of knowing that God is love...and not only loving, not only saving, but is near, is present, and will never leave us alone.
And ransom captive Israel
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.
So, in the last two days...or the last day (I'm in the middle of this strange night-day confusion that comes from working overnights several days in a row) I've had two conversations of absolute beauty...conversations of relationship and separation and hope and longing...conversations brimming over with love, with hearts' cries to know and be known...conversations of rescue and restoration...
One conversation was with an agnostic who couldn't quite accept how science and faith always came across as being opposite from each other. When I asked him about faith, he said that more important than defining and putting faith in terms and boxes he would rather grow, question, experience with love and authenticity. Moments when he experiences right relationship are moments that are spiritual to him, but the Christians around him won't buy it and say he is not blessed. "What would slapping on the label of 'Christian' really mean?" he asked...
The other conversation was with Eric, who was talking about singing "O Come, O Come Emmanuel" today and how excited he was for it. Somehow, as he passionately spoke about the exile, mourning, pain, and longing, and the call for God to come and be near, my mind was filled with flashing images and poetry, and the words from my previous conversation echoed in my mind.
Love. The authenticity that is seen when someone is mourning, groaning, crying, in exile away from their beloved. Then suddenly, brilliant flashes of light, songs of joy, a flood of peace, and the warmth of knowing that God is love...and not only loving, not only saving, but is near, is present, and will never leave us alone.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
A new goal and end-of-semester thoughts...
Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. - 1 Cor. 13:12
It's the weekend before finals, and almost all of my journals and papers have been turned in to professors. Now the only things left are tests and presentations, but I feel such a lack of motivation that I'm typing this rather than studying the stack of textbooks next to me. :)
The semester has been...painful. There were weeks of hating myself for not being able to love other people the way that I wanted to, or make decisions the way I wanted to, or think or communicate the way that I wanted to... But there were also moments--so many more moments that were a part of every day--of joy. Laughter with Brian and Carissa. Class with Dr. B and our cohort of outreach people that I love dearly. Homework and work up at OHSCO, where there has started to be so many of us hanging out that it feels like we are all family and work with sensei back in Japan, for some reason. There were so many, many classes where I first felt like a failure and then slowly started feeling like a fighter, and then even began to feel like the teacher a little bit...I love to learn (except for science...oy :)).
Thinking about the biggest message of the semester though has brought me to thinking of the verse above from 1 Corinthians. It is by far the verse that has ministered to me the most this semester, and it is one that Dr. Dave uses frequently in choir. There is the tension of the darkness, the murkiness of the glass in the mirror and the longing brought about by the separation of two people who only see reflections rather than the real things for which they are searching. There is the secrecy, the inner hiddenness of everything behind the reflection that is crying to be let out. But even in the tension, the murkiness, the loneliness, the secrecy, there is hope in knowing that one day all of that ambiguity and uncertainty that was so difficult to be read with confidence will actually be gone, and there will be a "knowing"--a reality so deep and full and rich with relationship! The verse affirms the pain and the hope, the tension and the peace, the longing and the fulfillment...
In choir this semester we sang a song called "Crossing the Bar," with the lyrics by Alfred Lord Tennyson, and the opening words are as follows:
Sunset and evening star,And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,
But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.
Twilight and evening bell
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;
For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crossed the bar.
I'm pretty sure that I cried through 75% of the times I was trying to sing this song, because it was so much mourning and hope twisting together in aches of pain and brilliant flashes of joy...And that is so much what my life is like right now.
But it's ok. :) Even more than that, I think it's good. Dr. Dave teaches all of us so much with his emphasis on "seeing in a glass mirror and one day seeing face-to-face"...It is those people that have the realness of life with pain and hope and relationship with God that I truly respect and want to emulate.
So I have no idea where my life is going, who I'm going to be with, or what I'm going to be doing. Well, I think it probably involves Japan and grad school. :) But...mostly, I want to be the type of person who "sees a poor reflection as in a mirror," but who also knows that one day I'll be "face-to-face" with God my Father...I want to show people that reality.
It's the weekend before finals, and almost all of my journals and papers have been turned in to professors. Now the only things left are tests and presentations, but I feel such a lack of motivation that I'm typing this rather than studying the stack of textbooks next to me. :)
The semester has been...painful. There were weeks of hating myself for not being able to love other people the way that I wanted to, or make decisions the way I wanted to, or think or communicate the way that I wanted to... But there were also moments--so many more moments that were a part of every day--of joy. Laughter with Brian and Carissa. Class with Dr. B and our cohort of outreach people that I love dearly. Homework and work up at OHSCO, where there has started to be so many of us hanging out that it feels like we are all family and work with sensei back in Japan, for some reason. There were so many, many classes where I first felt like a failure and then slowly started feeling like a fighter, and then even began to feel like the teacher a little bit...I love to learn (except for science...oy :)).
Thinking about the biggest message of the semester though has brought me to thinking of the verse above from 1 Corinthians. It is by far the verse that has ministered to me the most this semester, and it is one that Dr. Dave uses frequently in choir. There is the tension of the darkness, the murkiness of the glass in the mirror and the longing brought about by the separation of two people who only see reflections rather than the real things for which they are searching. There is the secrecy, the inner hiddenness of everything behind the reflection that is crying to be let out. But even in the tension, the murkiness, the loneliness, the secrecy, there is hope in knowing that one day all of that ambiguity and uncertainty that was so difficult to be read with confidence will actually be gone, and there will be a "knowing"--a reality so deep and full and rich with relationship! The verse affirms the pain and the hope, the tension and the peace, the longing and the fulfillment...
In choir this semester we sang a song called "Crossing the Bar," with the lyrics by Alfred Lord Tennyson, and the opening words are as follows:
Sunset and evening star,And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,
But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.
Twilight and evening bell
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;
For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crossed the bar.
I'm pretty sure that I cried through 75% of the times I was trying to sing this song, because it was so much mourning and hope twisting together in aches of pain and brilliant flashes of joy...And that is so much what my life is like right now.
But it's ok. :) Even more than that, I think it's good. Dr. Dave teaches all of us so much with his emphasis on "seeing in a glass mirror and one day seeing face-to-face"...It is those people that have the realness of life with pain and hope and relationship with God that I truly respect and want to emulate.
So I have no idea where my life is going, who I'm going to be with, or what I'm going to be doing. Well, I think it probably involves Japan and grad school. :) But...mostly, I want to be the type of person who "sees a poor reflection as in a mirror," but who also knows that one day I'll be "face-to-face" with God my Father...I want to show people that reality.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Days when I feel not-so-23-years-old...
I can't believe this is still only the first week of class...it feels like this has been going on forever, in some respects. Today was another day that somehow ends up going from 8am to 10pm with seemingly very few breaks...but again, the schedule is actually not the problem. :)
Today it was finally my Cross-cultural outreach class and syllabus that broke me--I at least managed to wait until almost everyone was out of the room before crying for a good 45 minutes. For a 400 level course there was nothing out of the ordinary expected of us...but I just can't do all of the writing and service learning and all of the things that are only supposed to take me 30 minutes a day and instead take me hours... I'm used to turning in a paper and knowing that it's good, or taking a test and knowing that I passed. I'm not used to simply shrugging and saying, "It was the best I could do...and I don't know if it's good enough."...Sigh.
Even more than the assignments and expectations though was the vocabulary of the course itself. For some reason, we seem to equate missions with "going" and "doing" and "learning" and "serving"...never just sitting and being filled by God. Even the questions based on the Bible tonight were "doing" questions rather than resting questions, and while it could just be the time of life I'm in right now, it seemed that we needed more emphasis on what God does through us rather than what we can do for God. This is, of course, offered in the humble opinion of a 23-year-old who is still a student. :)
What the "doing" questions really make me think about, however, is not necessarily doing missions. It makes me question all of my reasons for wanting or not wanting to be a DCO in the first place, and it makes me want to throw off all of these DCO expectations that I seem to have and focus on something that I love for once...like literature, for example. Why can I never seem to take a literature class?!?! Why does God have me going down this path that does not seem to fit with my focus or passion...
Well, it does fit in my mind. And apparently it does in some others' minds as well...I had a discussion earlier in the week about the difference between "inreach" and "outreach," and the conclusion that was reached was that they are all part of the same thing. How do I go about explaining that to profs and others who just want to "do"?
But, as is always the case, God is really nice to me. After crying in the ladies' bathroom after class, feeling like I was about 6 years old, I wandered outside and ran into a guy I knew from cross-country...he is no longer a student, really, but is sometimes around campus, and is the only guy who offers safe hugs in my mind... After biking past me without me noticing him, he turned his bike around and came to ask me how class had gone, tell me goodnight, and offer me a hug.
Then, after walking around for awhile to ensure that my eyes were not really shockingly red any longer, I headed into the common area for studying and found another guy that I've been studying with who said, "It's like a sense...I thought you were coming..."
Provisions...people...a place here...a sense that even though I'm 23 and just don't have it all together, it really will be ok. :)
So we made it through another day...by the grace of God...which, I suppose, is the way to go. :)
Today it was finally my Cross-cultural outreach class and syllabus that broke me--I at least managed to wait until almost everyone was out of the room before crying for a good 45 minutes. For a 400 level course there was nothing out of the ordinary expected of us...but I just can't do all of the writing and service learning and all of the things that are only supposed to take me 30 minutes a day and instead take me hours... I'm used to turning in a paper and knowing that it's good, or taking a test and knowing that I passed. I'm not used to simply shrugging and saying, "It was the best I could do...and I don't know if it's good enough."...Sigh.
Even more than the assignments and expectations though was the vocabulary of the course itself. For some reason, we seem to equate missions with "going" and "doing" and "learning" and "serving"...never just sitting and being filled by God. Even the questions based on the Bible tonight were "doing" questions rather than resting questions, and while it could just be the time of life I'm in right now, it seemed that we needed more emphasis on what God does through us rather than what we can do for God. This is, of course, offered in the humble opinion of a 23-year-old who is still a student. :)
What the "doing" questions really make me think about, however, is not necessarily doing missions. It makes me question all of my reasons for wanting or not wanting to be a DCO in the first place, and it makes me want to throw off all of these DCO expectations that I seem to have and focus on something that I love for once...like literature, for example. Why can I never seem to take a literature class?!?! Why does God have me going down this path that does not seem to fit with my focus or passion...
Well, it does fit in my mind. And apparently it does in some others' minds as well...I had a discussion earlier in the week about the difference between "inreach" and "outreach," and the conclusion that was reached was that they are all part of the same thing. How do I go about explaining that to profs and others who just want to "do"?
But, as is always the case, God is really nice to me. After crying in the ladies' bathroom after class, feeling like I was about 6 years old, I wandered outside and ran into a guy I knew from cross-country...he is no longer a student, really, but is sometimes around campus, and is the only guy who offers safe hugs in my mind... After biking past me without me noticing him, he turned his bike around and came to ask me how class had gone, tell me goodnight, and offer me a hug.
Then, after walking around for awhile to ensure that my eyes were not really shockingly red any longer, I headed into the common area for studying and found another guy that I've been studying with who said, "It's like a sense...I thought you were coming..."
Provisions...people...a place here...a sense that even though I'm 23 and just don't have it all together, it really will be ok. :)
So we made it through another day...by the grace of God...which, I suppose, is the way to go. :)
Monday, August 31, 2009
Days of joy, nights of grieving...and all-around healing
So, I knew that it was going to be a tough day last night at 3am when I looked at my schedule and realized that I literally had 10+ hours of straight class today...but actually, it wasn't the lack of sleep that was the problem at all...
First of all, things have been so lovely that I totally blame God for my lack of sleep...yesterday I felt as though I was bouncing for joy all day. God gave me good time in the morning and afternoon with P. and my brother, then an amazing time of Bible study and prayer for one of my group assignments (I love assignments that are Bible study and prayer...hehe:)), then several hours of studying just the way I like it--sitting across from other studious people, and a random chat with Japan people. :) Just the whole thing, and particularly having the Bible study, made me want to just bounce up and down on my toes and say "yay!!" Which I did. Several times. :) And it's hard for me to sleep while bouncing and saying yay.
I woke up today still bouncing, actually, and made it almost all the way through the day perfectly fine...until I got to choir. This was my first main time of being a part of choir since Japan, and for some reason, it just was really hard for me. Part of it was because I've forgotten correct English pronunciation and singing techniques, so I felt ridiculously stupid and juvenile...but also I just felt awful because...there is a huge chunk of me that I simply can't share with people in this country. And that part is the music that there was in Japan. I can't explain or lead people into worship songs in Japanese here...I can't explain how the band's songs are filled with encouragement...I can't say a phrase and get that an understanding smile from anyone. (ok, except maybe P.)...
So, from that time on, it just started to be a grieving night. After choir, I went to my last class that was supposed to be 4 hours long, and it totally shook my entire views on English teaching in general and a teacher's role in particular... What am I aiming for when I teach English? Am I truly looking to uphold someone else's culture, or am I just spreading American ideas? How does a person teach so as to validate culture, teach English, and point to Christ at the same time? So many of the questions about teaching ESOL here are so different from teaching overseas...there are so many more questions of morals and values and ethics that I haven't thought of before...
After class I studied a little, then headed for chapel, but only made it about halfway through chapel before the "I really miss Eric!" thought was simply too much to bear (I've been thinking that at least 5 times a day!)...added to the rest of my grieving through the evening...so I decided to escape and listen to the worship music on my ipod instead.
There's a line from 10th Avenue North's song entitled "Times" that says "I'm so tired of defending what I've become...what have I become?"...
It seems to put words to half of my struggles of grieving and living...I don't know what I've become. I don't know what's good or right. So everything is done with questions, and with thoughts of the past and the future...checking and rechecking to make sure that what I'm doing is correct, but not knowing what the labels "good" and "bad" mean in this culture or society or in my own heart at the moment.
Thankfully, God doesn't leave us there...He never leaves us where we fall, ne? I love the next words:
"You say, 'My love is over, it's underneath. It's inside; it's inbetween.'"
Forty minutes under the stars listening to truth helps with the healing...and with the moving forward. In what direction, I don't know...but it's good. :)
First of all, things have been so lovely that I totally blame God for my lack of sleep...yesterday I felt as though I was bouncing for joy all day. God gave me good time in the morning and afternoon with P. and my brother, then an amazing time of Bible study and prayer for one of my group assignments (I love assignments that are Bible study and prayer...hehe:)), then several hours of studying just the way I like it--sitting across from other studious people, and a random chat with Japan people. :) Just the whole thing, and particularly having the Bible study, made me want to just bounce up and down on my toes and say "yay!!" Which I did. Several times. :) And it's hard for me to sleep while bouncing and saying yay.
I woke up today still bouncing, actually, and made it almost all the way through the day perfectly fine...until I got to choir. This was my first main time of being a part of choir since Japan, and for some reason, it just was really hard for me. Part of it was because I've forgotten correct English pronunciation and singing techniques, so I felt ridiculously stupid and juvenile...but also I just felt awful because...there is a huge chunk of me that I simply can't share with people in this country. And that part is the music that there was in Japan. I can't explain or lead people into worship songs in Japanese here...I can't explain how the band's songs are filled with encouragement...I can't say a phrase and get that an understanding smile from anyone. (ok, except maybe P.)...
So, from that time on, it just started to be a grieving night. After choir, I went to my last class that was supposed to be 4 hours long, and it totally shook my entire views on English teaching in general and a teacher's role in particular... What am I aiming for when I teach English? Am I truly looking to uphold someone else's culture, or am I just spreading American ideas? How does a person teach so as to validate culture, teach English, and point to Christ at the same time? So many of the questions about teaching ESOL here are so different from teaching overseas...there are so many more questions of morals and values and ethics that I haven't thought of before...
After class I studied a little, then headed for chapel, but only made it about halfway through chapel before the "I really miss Eric!" thought was simply too much to bear (I've been thinking that at least 5 times a day!)...added to the rest of my grieving through the evening...so I decided to escape and listen to the worship music on my ipod instead.
There's a line from 10th Avenue North's song entitled "Times" that says "I'm so tired of defending what I've become...what have I become?"...
It seems to put words to half of my struggles of grieving and living...I don't know what I've become. I don't know what's good or right. So everything is done with questions, and with thoughts of the past and the future...checking and rechecking to make sure that what I'm doing is correct, but not knowing what the labels "good" and "bad" mean in this culture or society or in my own heart at the moment.
Thankfully, God doesn't leave us there...He never leaves us where we fall, ne? I love the next words:
"You say, 'My love is over, it's underneath. It's inside; it's inbetween.'"
Forty minutes under the stars listening to truth helps with the healing...and with the moving forward. In what direction, I don't know...but it's good. :)
Friday, August 28, 2009
First "full" day of another new life...
For some reason, I've been in high "ministry mode" ever since God kicked me into gear last Sunday, and so it's been a week of craziness--not with classes really, but with seeing opportunities for ministry and opportunities to be intentional. Let's just say that even though today was really my first "real" day of regular schedules and classes, I could have possibly set up around 20 hours of work for myself every week in jobs, initiated the beginnings of a campus outreach/prayer group, already have ideas of how to change campus ministry a little, sat at tables and bugged multiple freshman into talking, and have already discovered how to be involved in ministry off-campus...
Oy.
I feel a little like the energizer bunny, knowing that at some point, the crash will come. :)
But it's all good stuff...for example, between my classes and job interviews today I ended up meeting a former missionary and fellow student who just happened to be in town for a two-hour lunch and discussion of cultural stories, the church, etc. I went for a run and tried to connect with some of the athletes or people who live in that section of campus... :) Then did some homework and went to dinner at six, fully intending to be back in my room by 6:45pm to do more homework...yeah. I finally got back around 8:30 after an amazingly wonderful discussion with a guy who likes philosophy and missions (yay!!). Since all of my discussions at the band in Japan and with my other students, I have felt like I need a background in philosophy, and the discussion tonight was more informative than all of the thinking/trying to be philosophical than I have ever done by myself...and I felt...not old. :) Which I feel a lot here. :) Anyway, so I was encouraged.
Then, since I had had that entire discussion in sweaty running clothes, I came back to my room, hopped in the shower, and ran out of my room to the chapel, where there was a gathering tonight...and proceeded to have another long discussion with another guy. Whereas all my earlier discussions during the day were theoretical or had some job-related aspect to them, this discussion was completely relational...and totally shut me down.
I've been really surprised at what has shut me down and what hasn't...tonight the questions were very simple, like "what do you like to do for fun?" I just froze, unable to come up with an answer...finally getting out a half-hearted "I like running...and music." The rest of the discussion was kind of like that...me dodging and fighting myself to remain in the conversation at all, and him trying to be friendly. Finally I just said, "I'm not looking for any interpersonal relationships at this time." How strange is that? I can be completely intentional about who I talk to all day, reach out to strangers, etc. etc....but I can't have any interpersonal relationships???...outside of ministry, that is.
Sigh. Have I always been like this? Is this just Japan? Is this me running away from friendships that are good and trying to supplant them with work, or am I simply living as "nomadically" as God has apparently called me to live...?
Oy.
I feel a little like the energizer bunny, knowing that at some point, the crash will come. :)
But it's all good stuff...for example, between my classes and job interviews today I ended up meeting a former missionary and fellow student who just happened to be in town for a two-hour lunch and discussion of cultural stories, the church, etc. I went for a run and tried to connect with some of the athletes or people who live in that section of campus... :) Then did some homework and went to dinner at six, fully intending to be back in my room by 6:45pm to do more homework...yeah. I finally got back around 8:30 after an amazingly wonderful discussion with a guy who likes philosophy and missions (yay!!). Since all of my discussions at the band in Japan and with my other students, I have felt like I need a background in philosophy, and the discussion tonight was more informative than all of the thinking/trying to be philosophical than I have ever done by myself...and I felt...not old. :) Which I feel a lot here. :) Anyway, so I was encouraged.
Then, since I had had that entire discussion in sweaty running clothes, I came back to my room, hopped in the shower, and ran out of my room to the chapel, where there was a gathering tonight...and proceeded to have another long discussion with another guy. Whereas all my earlier discussions during the day were theoretical or had some job-related aspect to them, this discussion was completely relational...and totally shut me down.
I've been really surprised at what has shut me down and what hasn't...tonight the questions were very simple, like "what do you like to do for fun?" I just froze, unable to come up with an answer...finally getting out a half-hearted "I like running...and music." The rest of the discussion was kind of like that...me dodging and fighting myself to remain in the conversation at all, and him trying to be friendly. Finally I just said, "I'm not looking for any interpersonal relationships at this time." How strange is that? I can be completely intentional about who I talk to all day, reach out to strangers, etc. etc....but I can't have any interpersonal relationships???...outside of ministry, that is.
Sigh. Have I always been like this? Is this just Japan? Is this me running away from friendships that are good and trying to supplant them with work, or am I simply living as "nomadically" as God has apparently called me to live...?
Sunday, August 23, 2009
ups and downs and a kick in the pants :)
The last few days have been some of the most intense ups-and-downs since I left Japan...re-living feelings like, "I want to go hide in a cave for the rest of my life!" and then suddenly switching over to "I'm so lonely!"...my heart aching as I've been packing for college, with my mind realizing that I was going to be heading up to CSP and the rest of me not quite grasping the fact that I wasn't packing to head back to Japan. Seeing old friends and dear sisters at K. and J.'s wedding and traveling across country with Cindy somehow seriously switched my life-view to Japan rather than America...it was like suddenly I was caught in this cycle of grasping for everyone, knowing that the grasping was wrong, and pushing everyone away, and knowing that pushing everyone away was wrong...oy!
Anyway, I moved in last night up here at school, and besides random computer issues, things are fine...God-given time, to say the least. I was planning on joining up with P today and heading to a Japanese church, but after an hour of trying to figure out google map routes and metro transit trips and books for classes that I needed to know by noon today...I finally found myself sighing in frustration and saying, "God, why won't these schedules work out?!!?" The answer I got was very unlike the way I normally hear God--but it was such a loud "BECAUSE YOU SHOULDN'T BE GOING! I've given you a whole campus with a church service here and people to connect with..." that I was left sighing and saying, "Ok, ok, I got it!" :)
So, because I wasn't going to be wandering around the cities, I got up for some time with my coffee, the blessings book, and a Bible before the 10am service...and it was good. A few days ago, when I finally gave in to the inner turmoil and posted a complaint about the transience of life on facebook, Linds responded with the rhetorical question, "For Christians, what's not eternal?"...and the first blessing that I opened up with today was a blessing for a legacy that goes on after our deaths...I've been mulling over Linds' words in my head, and the blessing also was such a good reminder that I'm not here for the moment, but am part of a bigger story that God is writing. Logically, I know that if Paul would have stayed in Athens, he would have missed seeing God's blessings in other places as he traveled...and even though there is still pain at separation and loss in some respects, I was very reminded of the fact that Japan is but a small piece of a huge "book of Acts"...
Time with God also helped open my eyes to a few other things as well. God needs to use me here. I've just had almost three years of living in intense Christian community...something that these young adults haven't necessarily experienced...there have been battles with spiritual darkness...that maybe those around me now have tried to explain away or simply ignore. Don't get me wrong--there is much in this community that can be feeding for me also...but "getting through the year" and avoiding relationships that will once again be torn and cause pain in the end because of the transient nature of life that God's called me to (apparently) is an approach that neither brings growth or praise...
So, back to the books. Back to The Book...back to prayers like, "God, please orchestrate my day and my relationships and my times of rest and times of work...just orchestrate it all..."
Sigh. I still miss...still...
But it's good.
Anyway, I moved in last night up here at school, and besides random computer issues, things are fine...God-given time, to say the least. I was planning on joining up with P today and heading to a Japanese church, but after an hour of trying to figure out google map routes and metro transit trips and books for classes that I needed to know by noon today...I finally found myself sighing in frustration and saying, "God, why won't these schedules work out?!!?" The answer I got was very unlike the way I normally hear God--but it was such a loud "BECAUSE YOU SHOULDN'T BE GOING! I've given you a whole campus with a church service here and people to connect with..." that I was left sighing and saying, "Ok, ok, I got it!" :)
So, because I wasn't going to be wandering around the cities, I got up for some time with my coffee, the blessings book, and a Bible before the 10am service...and it was good. A few days ago, when I finally gave in to the inner turmoil and posted a complaint about the transience of life on facebook, Linds responded with the rhetorical question, "For Christians, what's not eternal?"...and the first blessing that I opened up with today was a blessing for a legacy that goes on after our deaths...I've been mulling over Linds' words in my head, and the blessing also was such a good reminder that I'm not here for the moment, but am part of a bigger story that God is writing. Logically, I know that if Paul would have stayed in Athens, he would have missed seeing God's blessings in other places as he traveled...and even though there is still pain at separation and loss in some respects, I was very reminded of the fact that Japan is but a small piece of a huge "book of Acts"...
Time with God also helped open my eyes to a few other things as well. God needs to use me here. I've just had almost three years of living in intense Christian community...something that these young adults haven't necessarily experienced...there have been battles with spiritual darkness...that maybe those around me now have tried to explain away or simply ignore. Don't get me wrong--there is much in this community that can be feeding for me also...but "getting through the year" and avoiding relationships that will once again be torn and cause pain in the end because of the transient nature of life that God's called me to (apparently) is an approach that neither brings growth or praise...
So, back to the books. Back to The Book...back to prayers like, "God, please orchestrate my day and my relationships and my times of rest and times of work...just orchestrate it all..."
Sigh. I still miss...still...
But it's good.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
"All replete with very me"...
One of my favorite authors has always been Madeline L'Engle...her books delight my post-modern, dreamy, literary soul and challenge my thoughts on science, religion, and the world in general. She contains quotes as wise and old as the one above--I'm "all replete with very me"--and also simple statements of things that I find my heart questioning no matter how matter how old I am and how much I feel that I've grown. Having just returned from a few weeks of travel with the family, during which time we drove through 9 states, I've had the chance to read several of her books lately. :)
It was funny, but the books I read and the thoughts and questions and experiences we all had traveling in some ways mirrored each other. We visited Los Alamos, NM, to see my sister and her family. It is, in my impression, one of the most ghastly, intelligent, guilt-laden cities I have ever visited. The nuclear bomb was invented in the city, and other inventions still go on...to this day, parts of the city are bordered by security stations, and the general feel in the city is one of a hidden population of some of the most brilliant minds America knows. The whole thing reminds me, in some respects, of the Tower of Babel. Amazing intelligence working together creates...any guesses, Ladies and Gentlemen? No, not health. No, not world peace. No, not a superior culture or nation. No, it doesn't eliminate poverty or hunger or abuse or slavery or crime...
It creates death. The ability to, in a second, snuff life out of the person living next to you, or in the next state, or in the next country, or on the other side of the world.
And even though I KNOW that many people say sending the nuclear bomb to Japan was actually good, because it prevented more people from being killed in long, drawn-out fighting, seeing the cold clear truth that the wisdom of the world and brilliant minds teach us how to kill and take and x out others is simply ghastly.
And it leads me back to L'Engle, and the "all replete with very me" that I often feel inside myself... There is so much that is ugly and wrong and sinful inside. To often, clutching onto my idea of self, I fight to survive (and so often that survival is by killing others around me...).
On the flip side, however, there are other L'Engle quotes: "He makes me feel the most real," and "When are you the most you?"
Simple language, simple questions, but for a person who is in the business of finding meaning in life and death, words that echo deep questions hidden inside. What does it mean to feel real? How do you become "real"? And, maybe the most important for me, when I know that I am "all replete with very me," is it ok to try to be real?
Maybe they are all questions that should have been dealt with in the teenage years of life formation and searching...all I know is that since Japan, there are many things that should have touched me, moved me to tears, and they don't. Churches cause me to put up 6 layers of protective armor that enables me to hide emotion. But these books...move me to tears and fill me with such a longing that I know I am missing something, searching for something, grieving something. Maybe that is strange to say. I don't know.
Connecting with random people on the trip? Really good. Reconnecting with family and old relationships? I'm still clueless. Learning about healing and spending time with a church in Texas? Was often forced, but still a good learning experience for me to go through. Hanging out with my family as we traveled? Much fun. But mostly...there was a longing to be known, a longing to be real to someone...even as the evils and ghastliness of humanity was brought to light, there was a need to see and feel...love.
In her books L'Engle often states that to be real, a person must lose himself or herself. I don't know exactly what theology it is, or what she is thinking...but maybe it is that that I am looking for.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
July's prayer
God, let me not reject your gifts,
Hold my heart from your good way,
And when the sacrifice is your will,
Those gifts, before you, help me lay.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
In between worlds
Orange, sizzling across the sky
Fire sinks into cool blue water
Soft pink hues marking the trail
Of the sun as it slips into the sea.
Brilliance of color, breathtaking light
Dazzling radiance fills the view
Yet shift just a moment, turn but a little
A new landscape appears.
Greys shifting to blues, to shadows above,
Tiny pin-pricks of light, a cresent-shaped glow
Calm, and mystery marked by the darkness
A quiet night comes on tip-toe
I stand alone, with a foot in each land,
My face to the grey, brilliant colors to my back
An infinite moment of time and space
Two worlds colliding around me.
Some are of the darkness, some of the light
But neither of these lands are mine to dwell
Yet maybe only the traveler is blessed to see
And walk in the beauty that's inbetween.
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