resurrection

lent?

Yesterday I ate king cake someone made and brought to our staff meeting and saw guys and gals sporting mardi gras beads when I went out to karaoke at an Irish-themed pub. And now today I've seen folks wearing ash on their foreheads, the start of the Lenten season.

"Man, I hope people don't give up stuff for Lent!" one of my RAs mentioned in our staff meeting a couple of weeks ago when we were discussing upcoming programs and what food to serve. In the previous meeting, I had talked with them about offering more food choices to be inclusive of all residents and their diets, whether for religious or health reasons, so I just gently reminded the RA that this is another reason to offer different food options at our programs.

Her response stuck with me, because I think that's how many people view Lent. Some sort of hassle for Catholics or all Christians to give up something that they usually enjoy. Just another example of Christians doing something that doesn't sound fun, going against our society's emphasis on instant gratification. I'm not Catholic, but I started adopting Lenten practices of fasting from something for a season in high school when I gave up drinking sodas during Lent. I thought Lent was about giving something up until I talked with a Catholic friend in college about it.

"What are you giving up for Lent?" I asked him. "Lent isn't about giving up things," he explained, "It's a season for spiritual renewal. That can take the form of a fast, but it should also be a time when people do things and make changes, like being more generous or forgiving." Since then, when this season rolls around, instead of praying, "What should I give up this year for Lent?" I think about what I should do for Lent and what it should mean for me this season.

Recently, I asked my boyfriend if he was going to do anything for Lent, and he said no and shared some of this thoughts about why he believes Lent isn't something he should practice. I'm not going to recap what he said because it probably wouldn't do his opinions justice, but I do want to share the thoughts that it prompted. The first is the idea of "seasonal holiness," of doing things to make oneself holy for a season or doing something that would please God for just a few weeks, but then not doing it the rest of the year. There is something hypocritical sounding about it. But for me, Lent isn't about making myself holy or more pleasing to God during this season. It's about practicing something new and different for a season, and maybe I'll continue that practice after Lent, and maybe I won't. I don't think that God necessarily expects the same things from his followers all the same. I might do something that for a season is beneficial to my spiritual health and is what God wants for me at that time, but at another time, as I grow and mature (hopefully) and face different circumstances and challenges, then God may want me to do something different. I don't think there's some point of spiritual practice that I'm supposed to "arrive" at. I don't think I should keep striving until I read my Bible, pray, fast, etc every day. I don't think my prayer life should always look the same. I think there will be ebbs and flows and differences across time, and I see Lent as one of those ebbs.

The second thing I took away from our conversation is the idea of trying to make changes based on my own effort. I struggle with spiritual disciplines, even when I enjoy them and see the good in them. Lent is the exception. I can make drastic lifestyle changes during Lent that I wouldn't always have the willpower to carry out the rest of the year. It's the conviction of the Lenten season and the accountability of other Christians all around the world doing something similar that helps me to stick with my Lenten convictions when I don't keep other promises. But is Lent something that's about me and my own willpower and my own dedication to do or not do something? Or is it about the Spirit working through me, changing me from the inside out, in ways that I never could? Am I humbled during Lent? Or am I filled with pride in what I'm able to do or give up?

I've decided to do the following this Lenten season:

1. Fast from lunch once a week and spend that solid hour in prayer.
2. Not use the internet after 10:30pm, unless it's legitimately for word.
3. Read John Owen's Mortification of Sins.*

I certainly don't think that all Christians should participate in Lent. I don't know that I'll continue to participate in Lent year after year, but I am participating in it again this year and I look forward to seeing how God will use this season in my life.

*Don't be afraid of the Puritans! Give them a chance. I read Jonathan Edwards' "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God" sermon in a high school English class, and my Christian friends and I decided that the Puritans were as nutty as those street evangelists in our city who said you were going to hell if you drank alcohol, didn't wear long skirts, or went to see movies. But recently I've been reintroduced to Puritan writers through reading The Valley of Vision, a beautiful and moving collection of prayers, and now John Owen.

Good News

What is the Gospel?

I struggle to define it, to describe it, mainly because I immediately think of the definitions and words and phrases that I've heard my whole life. There is probably truth in these recollections, but they feel a little stale and feel like I'd just be regurgitating something I've heard somewhere else instead of truly describing what the Gospel is to me, what I believe it to be, what it means to me. What words do I put together to describe that? Or maybe words aren't it. Maybe there's an image.


As I sat outside, pondering this question, I looked down at the grass. There was a small, orange, delicate butterfly perched on a blade of grass, gently opening and closing its wings. It wasn't a Monarch, but it was just as brightly orange, beautiful contrasted against the green grass.

And there was my image. It described to me a creation, a people, an individual utterly renewed by God's mercy and grace. It pointed to a coming Kingdom where all will be made right and all conflicts and disputes and lawsuits and wars and complaints and demands will cease. A Kingdom yet to come fully, but a Kingdom that can be present now. A Gospel that tells me that I am both a sinner and in need of grace and change but that I'm also fully accepted and fully loved, a Gospel that I can surrender to and that I can display as I love my family and strangers, as I love myself fully and receive God's love, as I advocate for myself and others, as I approach stresses and conflicts seeking God's grace and peace and compassion. There, I will find that delicate butterfly, renewed and beautiful.

whole

There's a me who's kinda crazy and fun. Who wants to be spontaneous, who wants to do things because they're exciting and out of the ordinary. The me who wants to be sexy and a little wild. The fiery redhead. The party me who wants to make my own decisions as an individual and who doesn't want to be told what to do.

Then there's a me who is grounded, and wants to make wise decisions. Who wants to surrender, who wants to be giving and sacrificial. The me who wants to submit to my community and seek God's direction through them. The planner. The me who wants to do the "right" thing.

Then there's God who loves me. Who accepts me. Completely. Who created me and loves every part of me. And yes, He also wants to change me, but not in a way that I'm not me anymore.

And I recently recognized that unconsciously, I've believed that God didn't love that "party" side of me. That He didn't value my spontaneity as much as my sacrifice. And I've felt guilt over that part of me, that it was wrong or sinful and needed to be changed or needed to go away. And I'm coming to see the error of that way of thinking. There is much that is good about my "party" self and much that would be good about receiving God's love for all of me and for loving myself completely. I think that it will bring great freedom for me and freedom for me to love others more fully.

At times, I've found myself divided. Different people, different cultures, different circumstances bring out different sides of me. I feel like a chameleon at times, not that I've been acting fake or untrue to myself, but that I only show certain parts of myself at certain times and with certain people.

So I want my selves to be integrated. I want to love myself for all that I am and all that I'm not, I want to love myself in the way that God loves me, I want to remember and really recognize that He loves every part of me that He created, not just the parts that fit more closely with the religious culture around me.

the relationship between bananas and Jesus

"Peel, bananas, peel peel, bananas!"

He towered over the toddlers, arms stretched overhead, as he began singing and dancing in the motions of a banana peeling. They didn't dance or sing along or even giggle or smile. They just stared at him, mesmerized by this tall dancing man.

"Peel, bananas, peel peel, bananas!"

Somehow remembering this from some days at camp long ago, I began singing along and laughing as we sang as his wife laughed along with us.

"Go bananas! Go, go, bananas!"

I was there in the walkers and crawlers (a technical term referring to children under the age of two who can crawl or walk) class a couple of weeks ago because our church small groups alternate taking care of the kids during church services and I had missed a week I was supposed to serve because I had been vacationing in New Orleans. After being barraged with mass emails stating, "You missed a Sunday serving, we need YOUR help this Sunday to fill in," I finally gave in and volunteered for this Sunday after seeing that other friends of mine had volunteered too.

"Peel, bananas, peel peel, bananas!"

Round two of the song, and the kids still weren't showing any sign of wanting to sing or dance along, but continued to stare up at my tall friend. I grabbed the hands of the curly-haired blonde girl on my lap and moved her into the motions. She just stared at me with her huge blue eyes, with the same serious expression that she'd held throughout the evening. I never saw her smile and the most emotional expression I saw from this stoic child was when I sat her down on the floor prematurely and she looked up at me seriously, grunted a little, and began flapping her hands, which I took as her communication for, "Please, I urgently need you to pick me up again!" Of course, I was happy to comply with her nonverbal requests and she spent most of the evening on my hip or in my lap.

"Peel, bananas, peel peel, bananas!"

Myself and my two friends in that class helping would readily admit that we're not kid people. As I've written before and before, I feel kinda awkward around kids. I like kids, some more than others, but I often have trouble relating to little people who don't talk like adults. I think I'm getting better at this and find that I can connect with my nephew or kids from my church and it's actually pretty fun. And strangely, I've been feeling more maternal urges lately, when I've never felt like a very maternal person. Strangers' kids on the street catch my eye more often, they seem cuter than they used to, and the idea of me having my own kids sometime in a few years sounds pretty nice to me these days.

"Go bananas! Go, go, bananas!"

So, my friends and I were serving these kids. We carried them, we fed them, we held them when they cried (which thankfully all but one didn't cry too long), talked to them as if they were adults (because we didn't know how else to talk to them), sang to them, played music for them, and I even assisted as my friend changed a diaper, too much of a wimp too change it myself. Though none of us would claim to be great with kids or eagerly volunteer for babysitting, we did pretty good with them that evening. As best we could, we were Jesus to those kids.

"Then little children were brought to Jesus for him to place his hands on them and pray for them. But the disciples rebuked those who brought them. Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these." When he had placed his hands on them, he went on from there."

Jesus valued kids and stated that the kingdom was for them, much as he valued other marginalized people groups and showed special care and concern for them. And so I'm called to show love to children, to old people, to the mentally ill, to drug addicts, to rape victims, to cultural minorities, to the homeless, to people who have been victimized or marginalized by society or somehow told that they weren't worth it. These are the people to love for the kingdom of heaven belongs to them. And it challenges me. It doesn't feel natural to hang around a kid. I have friends who make it look so natural, who love being with children, who know exactly what to say or do or not say. But natural or not, I'm still called to love them.

"This is bananas, B-A-N-A-N-A-S!"

We decided to switch it up, and brought in a G-rated version of Hollaback Girl to sing and dance too. And as much as we were Jesus to those kids, they were Jesus to us.

"The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'

They were Jesus to me, accepting me, being patient with me, challenging me. And I'm so thankful that I had the chance to go bananas with them.

*Inspired by and dedicated to Katie

countdown

10 more days!

1 more year . . . 2-2&1/2 more years . . . 3-4 more years . . .

Countdowns aren't as exciting when I realize all the other things I could be counting down toward.

Translation - Time . . . until I'm done with this semester . . . until I'm done with classes . . . until I earn my doctorate . . . until I become licensed . . . unless I move out of the country or get knocked up before any of those things happen, which under the right circumstances, neither would be bad at all.

Perhaps it's crude, and I wouldn't use the term to refer to my friends' pregnancies, but if I ever get pregnant, I will refer to myself as knocked up. I love the phrase because it usually refers to an unplanned pregnancy, and to a certain extent, I believe that all pregnancies and most of life's other events are unplanned. Even when planning a pregnancy, there's no guarantee that a couple will conceive exactly when they want to. Without getting into too much of a soapbox, I think birth control methods give us the illusion that we can control our life events completely around our plans.

Screw my plans. I put too much stock and security in them. I'll make my plans and carry some of them out, but I still want to remain completely open to getting knocked up. I want to be open to whatever God brings into my life without my planning, be it a new opportunity, job, career, ministry, relationship, whatever those things are that could tear into my life, assaulting my carefully made plans in such a way that my life course is so radically different than what I anticipated, but better, stronger, more rewarding than anything my boring head could have dreamed up.

So go ahead, knock me up! I'll probably start kicking and screaming and try to run in the other direction when you do, but maybe I'll remember writing this post and it will help me to surrender.

Sigh. 10 more days!

tears held gently

I should be in bed.

I've been telling myself that the past 6 evenings. Meaning that I've spent almost a week staying up past my bedtime, past the point when I'm tired and my body and eyes and mind tell me that I should sleep. I hate this, it's silly, I feel like going to bed, and going to sleep will be good for me, but I fight what's good for me - why? I'm not sure. Anxiety? Distraction? Sleep doesn't seem distracting enough right now.

So, I will finish this brief (I hope post), read the Psalm I'm praying through this week (a neat idea that someone shared Sunday), and enjoy the sweet embrace of sleep and tell myself once again that I will not do this tomorrow night and maybe I'll mean it this time.

Tonight, I sat with a dear friend, tears held gently in both our eyes, and she looked into my eyes, with such a look of love and empathy that I knew that she was truly seeing me, and then this friend told me how God is doing something really special in my life and it's been a blessing for her to be a part of it and watch me go through all these things in the past two years. She told me how I've shown her how to balance giving to others and asking from others.

And I write it down because I want to remember those moments forever. I want to always be able to close my eyes and remember vividly the expression on her face and the precious words she spoke, but mostly I hope to remember her face tonight.

"For to see your face is like seeing the face of God . . ."

solitude

Here I sit, on the patio of a beautiful coffee/wine bar, sipping on mint hot chocolate, listening to the bubbling fountain under the auspices of working on statistics homework. It's about 5 degrees too cold and 3 mph too windy to truly be comfortable, but the slight chilly breeze is keeping me alert and aware. I've been here many times before, in various circumstances, with new friends, dates, family, enjoying music, and by myself. Today this recalls a time when I came here one evening last summer, by myself, enjoying the warmth of the sun still in the sky on those long days, reading a book that spoke to me, no, sang to me, about the love of God. On that evening, like this one, I felt lonely, but felt the need to embrace my solitude.

So there and here I sat and sit, part of me longing to reach out to a friend, part of me wanting to just be. left alone. but the inner part of me knowing that God is here in these moments of aloneness and pain, just as He's present with me, in me, around me in the moments of friendship, laughter, music, and dancing. So I breath deeply the cool air, straining my neck toward the dark sky above the trees, knowing that He is here. Guidance, answers, healing, laughter, music will all come later, but for now, all I need is to know that I am here and He is here.

tucking in my cloak

This morning, I read in 1 Kings 18 when God answers Elijah's prayers and ends the 3 1/2 year long drought. It's just after God has answered Elijah's prayers and sent down fire to consume the altar on Mount Carmel, demonstrating that the God is Israel is the true living God and Baal is no god at all. After this great display of power, after Elijah prays with his head and his knees to the ground, after Elijah's servant had looked toward the sea six times, on the seventh viewing, he reports a small cloud rising from the sea, Elijah urges the king to ride his chariot down off the mountain before the rain prevents him from leaving. The sky grows dark, the winds howl, and the heavy rain comes down. Elijah is seized by the power of God, he tucks his cloak into his belt, and he runs ahead of the king's chariot 16 miles back to the city! Maybe horses pulling chariots run slower than a man, maybe the terrain was rocky and easier for a man on foot to navigate than horses and chariots, but I believe that this "power of the Lord" was supernatural energy and strength and speed that allowed Elijah to run over a half marathon ahead of the king's chariot, with the heavy rain and storm chasing them from behind.

Leaving campus this afternoon, we saw dark clouds and heard distant rumblings of thunder. I quickly bid my companions goodbye and scurried to unlock my bike. I began pedaling quickly, anxious to make it home before the rain started. I heard a louder clap of thunder behind me, and started pedaling faster. As I found myself furiously biking through campus, I felt a little like Elijah, cloak tucked in, running ahead of the chariot, with the storm coming behind him. Most of me desperately wanted to make it home dry, but a small part of me hoped that the rain would beat me, and that I would be caught in the storm. As I began to imagine this, that desire in me grew. What could be more invigorating right now than this exhilarating ride to escape the rain than to actually be caught in the rain? To be pelted with water, powerless to stop it, unable to be dry until I reached the safety of my home, completely drenched? I did not lower my speed, but as I pressed on, I began to hope that the rain would win this race.

I was victorious. As I sit half an hour later at my dining room table writing this, the rain still has not come. I could feel silly, that I got so worked up about beating the rain that still hasn't arrived, but instead I feel grateful for a few minutes of excitement, for the reminder of God's power through nature's unpredictability, and the ability to feel alive and present.

constant companion

As a musician, her guitar has become her companion. She tells me how when she's been lonely, she could play her guitar for hours. Song after song, her dear friend entertains and comforts her.

I am not a musician; I have never experienced the companionship of an instrument. Have any of you ever had an object, maybe not an instrument, perhaps a favorite book, or a hobby, or a favorite television show or film, that brings you companionship? Can you turn to that thing, when there is no one else present, and find comfort and fun and a fulfilling way to pass the time?

She's not an object, but I remember when I adopted my cat Gracie 15 months ago, and our first drive back to College Station together. She cried the entire way. I remember telling her, "It's you and me, Gracie, you and me." I remember thinking about how for many years to come, she will be my companion, traveling back and forth with me, moving to new homes and cities. I had no idea who I would live with the following year or where I would live in few years when I had finished my coursework or who else would ever make this drive back and forth between BCS and DFW with me, but I knew that she would be with me. I felt empowered, a 22 year old graduate student woman and her cat, ready to take on the world, ready to go wherever life takes us. Since that time, I've made many more friends in the BCS, young men have come in and out of my life, I considered a living situation that would not have allowed me to keep Gracie, but I've moved into a new home, and Gracie and I have clocked who knows how many thousands of miles back and forth together. She still cries the whole way, though not as loudly or as frequently, and sometimes I cry with her, but mostly I sing. I know she's just a pet, but it's comforting having a companion who will probably be with me for many more years, as I graduate, and move, and start my career, and perhaps marry and start a family. Maybe my oldest children will pet her when she's old and feeble, as I used to pet my parents' old cats when I was a child. Or maybe circumstances will prevent me from keeping her, but for now, she is a constant.

My True Constant is my God and Savior, and I find such peace is knowing that whatever changes happen, He is. I have to be honest though, that I rarely think of God as my companion. I've heard people speak of Christ as being their best friend, their husband, their lover, etc, but these images and metaphors have never really described my relationship with Him, and there was a time that I thought I was less of a Christian for not having Jesus as my boyfriend. He is my God, my Lord, my Savior, my Rescuer, my Comforter, my Confidant, my Shepherd, my Guide, my Wisdom, my Father, my Mother, my Love, my Strength, my Confidence, my Guardian, my Protector. He holds me in His hands, He guards me with His wings, He leads me with His light, and I feel confident in knowing that whatever happens, I want His will more than anything else I desire. But it's hard for me to call Him my friend. I want Him to be that too already, but I feel fortunate to have a lifetime and beyond to explore who He is and who He is not.

applying and interview yet again . . . does this ever end?

There are few tasks that I dislike more that writing "personal statements" or "statements of interest."

"What is your interest in doing a practicum at our site? Include sufficient detail so we may come to know you better and your understanding of how a practicum at our site fits into your future goals. Please limit your response to two pages."

Buh . . . I want to be a better counselor. I need the direct client contact hours to complete this program. Your site is really close, and I'd save money on gas. Most of the other sites aren't taking practicum students until the fall, so you made the short list. Derr . . . crap, that's not two pages yet! Can't I just send you my vita, and we can talk about it at the interview? Better yet, skip the interview, let's just go have coffee and you tell me about what I'll be doing at your practicum site. I'll buy the coffee, k

Yeah, writing these kinds of things really make me want to bang my head against the keyboard and hope something intelligible comes out. Hopefully it's not too bloody. After spending a year at our program's community based counseling center, I'm being set loose to spread my wings and go find my own field practicum site for the spring. Unfortunately, many of the sites that I'd like to apply at are not taking on new students until the fall. So, I'm applying at two sites, and hoping and praying that one of them will take me on as a practicum student. There's the one that I'm completing this application for, and they'll be interviewing people next weekend. Honestly, it's my second choice right now, but given the limited options, I'd gladly take it!

I do have an interview with my first choice practicum site tomorrow afternoon. It was a fairly easy process, I just called the director, she invited me to email my vita and scheduled an interview. I'm pretty excited about the opportunity to interview, but I'm one of three students interviewing for one spot that will be open in the spring. This makes me nervous.

So, brothers and sisters, I'd greatly appreciate your prayers for me during this interview tomorrow, and especially over this whole process. I know that there's a site for me in the spring, and I hope that it's my first choice, but I also trust that God has a plan for me and I've often witnessed that the things that actually play out in my life are often better opportunities that I even imagined.

Our church is currently teaching a series called "Hope and Mission," which is a sufficiently vague enough title for me to avoid attempting to summarize the teaching. It's hard to summarize, because it's touching on so many valuable things, the nature of the gospel, salvation, what we're hoping for, and what our mission in the world should be in light of that. Something that I'm getting from this teaching is remembering that Christ has conquered death, and with that, the only that thing poses any real threat to me (death) has been eliminated, and I am free. There is nothing left to fear, for even death has no lasting sting. Last night, as I heard this message again and sang songs praising God for his salvation and power, I felt a confidence that I should have no fear in this application situation, or in any of the situations that currently frighten me. I can face these things because of who is beside me. I felt a sense of peace, and realized that the worst thing that could happen to me (short of losing a loved one or bodily harm) could happen and I would be ok. This "worst thing" is me somehow losing this program, failing out, being kicked out, etc. That could happen, I could lose this opportunity completely, and I feel peace that even that would be ok because God is here and He loves me.

So, I turn in this application today, I interview tomorrow, and hopefully will have another interview soon. I could flop at these interviews, and not get these placements that I desire, and that would be ok. This spring will hold many new opportunities for me and I embrace them, whatever they may be.

BTW, I say things like "practicum site" and expect everyone to know what I mean. If you're not in the field or not very familiar with my program, practicums are where we get practical, clinical experience assessing and treating clients. Practicums can be completed at a variety of sites, at university counseling centers, in hospitals, in private clinics, wherever you find someone to supervise you and work to do.

Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?

It seems somewhat lame to just recount the events of my weekend, but I had an unexpectedly great weekend. Seriously, I was expecting it to be lame, and kinda boring, but this was one of my most enjoyable weekends spent in BCS in recent memory.

Friday, I worked, then went to this web conference with the project directors behind the revision of the WAIS-IV. This was probably the nerdiest thing I've done yet in graduate school, but I really enjoyed hearing how this test was developed! I saw some clients at a nursing home, then went to a church where some evacuees from a nursing home are living right now. Friday evening, I ate some chili, met some folks from Taiwan, and sang Bohemian Rhapsody karaoke at an event for international students at my friend's church, then watched the presidential debate with said friend, my roommates, and their boyfriends. I must be the man in that relationship, because only me and the guys actually stayed awake through the entire debate.

Saturday, I slept in a little, saw some more clients at the nursing home, and administered two of the three WAIS-IVs that I gave over the course of the weekend. These were administered to teenagers, so in between testing, we talked about Metallica, Pillar, and colleges. I haven't been around many teenagers lately, so I guess it was fun to learn that teenagers talk about . . . music. And school. Hmm, how far have I really come in 6 years? After I got done with that, I headed to the hippest bar/venue in BCS called Revolution with Neeta and her boyfriend. We drank sangria and watched a folky kinda chic with a guitar, cowboy boots, and a sleeve of tattoos on one arm sing Neutral Milk Hotel songs and songs I think she wrote about leaving Georgia to go find her baby in Texas with the sun setting in her rear view mirror. Unless that's another Neutral Milk Hotel song.

Sunday I administered my final WAIS-IV, ate some corndogs, went to church, and did some laundry. The weekend was productive, but also randomly fun. Even when I was "working" (administering tests, seeing clients), I still had a fun time. I feel especially blessed to receive things that I wasn't expecting. I often get down about things that I don't have, and wishing that God would bless me with other things and often feeling like he's holding back on giving me what I need. But the truth is, he's blessing me with what he's blessing me with, and he's not giving me what he's not. I want to live fully in the present and enjoy the life that I have, instead of wishing that my life looked different or that I was living in the future. I want to be fully engaged on not miss out on what is now and what opportunities are already present for me.

here's my heart

Let thy goodness, like a fetter,
bind my wandering heart to thee.

Come Thou Fount is one of my favorite hymns, and we've been singing it pretty often in church lately. Last night, when singing the verse that I can relate to the most, the word goodness just leapt off the screen and into my conscious. Goodness. I need so desperately to believe that God is good, that He is goodness, that goodness is Him. Instead, I believe that I am good, and I kick and scream and cry against what God appears to be doing, when I need to discern what is from God and what is good and I need to rest in that goodness and be accepting of it.

What reminds you that God is good? How has that goodness been a fetter to keep your heart close to His?

Goodness knows, I need these reminders beyond feelings, beyond reason.

Somewhere
Between the lost and the found
We're all hanging empty
Empty and upside down
But I'm hanging on
Though the fall may tempt me
And I believe in the dawn
Though I tremble in the night
Somewhere
Amidst these ins and these outs
There's a fine line of purpose
I follow even now
Through the haze of despair
That confuses and hurts us
I look to see that You're there
And I run toward Your light
Somewhere
Beyond these reasons and feelings
Somewhere
Beyond the passion and fatigue
I know You're there
And that Your Spirit is leading me
Somewhere

surprised by grace . . . in human form

Recently, I've gotten to know the fiance of one of my ex-boyfriends. The story of the ex is not one that I'm proud to tell, and I dread thinking of what he most have told her about though. Though he handled the break-up harshly, he emerged months later with a surprisingly sincere apology. That apology, along with the encouragement of others, has helped me to forgive him and respond gracefully. Another surprise arrived when his fiance proved herself to be very kind and friendly toward me, and genuinely interested in knowing a little about me and my current life. Given my history with this ex, I was a little cynical about her actions. She was acting too casual and comfortable with me, surely she does not know about my history with her fiance! It didn't seem humanly possible for her to not display any awkwardness or bitterness, so I quickly assumed her ignorance. This concerned me, because this meant that he wasn't being upfront with her, the women he's going to marry! I wrote him an email telling him that I liked her and asked if she knew about us. He responded and told me that yes, he had told her about our history.

This meant that I had to rethink my impression of this woman. She wasn't just kind and friendly toward me because she thought I was any other girl, she acted in kindness toward me knowing my history with her soon to be husband, knowing the details of that relationship. In spite of this knowledge, that in me would have easily bred jealousy or worse emotions, she overcame this and extended grace, and in my kindness to her, I have extended her and him grace. I find these sorts of experiences somewhat remarkable, something that doesn't seem humanly natural, something that must be the work of the Spirit. I also see that this is one of those experiences that displays my natural tendency to often believe the worst about people, to have trouble believing their goodness for goodness sake. It's a humbling experience, but I feel blessed by it. I have a hard time grasping the idea of God's grace and what it really means, so these little human experiences of it can give me a glimpse of what the supernatural grace might be like. And these examples encourage me to continue to forgive and extend grace towards those who have wronged me, following a path that is both freeing for me and the one forgiven.

a retreat or something

August is going by in a whirlwind, but it's been a really good month. I just got back from Boston a few days ago, which was an amazing experience and I hope to write about it, and now I'm off again for the weekend for a church retreat! It's at this beautiful camp center, but it may rain :(

This is short, but I wanted to write and ask for prayers. I love this church, but over this past year, I've experienced intense loneliness and a longing for close friends in my new home, a longing that I still don't believe has been fulfilled. I'm excited about this weekend together at my church, but also nervous, because I'm afraid that it will highlight the emptiness I sometimes feel and the lack of connection that I have, instead of being an incredible opportunity for me to connect with God and His body. So, please pray for me, that I will be free from fears, insecurity, jealousy, and loneliness, and that instead I will be led by the Spirit and go into this weekend ready to give and to receive, that I'll just be open to whatever is supposed to happen, and free from too many expectations, good or bad. I think that good things will happen this weekend, I just have my doubts, and I need prayers to help me with all my conflicted feelings. Pray that God will meet my needs, and that He will connect me more with others this weekend, and begin and develop friendships with good, godly people.

unique cargo, ugly baggage

I have about three potential blog entries already written in my head, but I've decided to first write the most salient one.

Yesterday, driving along Highway 6, a train passed me. This is pretty common as I see plenty of trains, but the cargo of this train was unique, and like nothing I'd never seen outside of movies. This train was carrying at least 40 military tanks, all desert tan.

Two weeks ago, I saw a dead man on the highway. It was late at night, and several police cars had a lane blocked off. As I approached, I noticed the wrecked cars, the ambulance, the police officers, and then there he was, contorted face down on the pavement. There were people nearby, but no one giving him medical attention, no one hauling him away on a stretcher, no officers collecting evidence, no white sheet covering him, no white chalk outline, he just lay there as car after car passed. I still don't know what happened. Was he thrown from his vehicle? Was he trying to cross the street, and hit by a car at 70 mph? This is the first time I've told anyone what I saw. I don't know that I've ever seen a dead person that wasn't in a coffin, hair and makeup nicely fixed. I'm not even positive he was dead, but why else was he face down in such an awkward position, with no one helping him?

And then there were those tanks yesterday. 40 plus killing machines being transported across Texas, that will eventually make it over to the Middle East. I described it to my mom, and she said, "That sounds like something you'd see in WWII." And it's true, while the technology as change drastically in the past 60 years, on the outside, tanks still look relatively the same. A tank is a tank is a tank, and I felt like I was transported back to a time when reminders of war were an everyday occurrence.

I've felt so insulated from this current war. Yes, it's all over the news, stories, sounds, images, reports, controversies, but it still seems to far removed from my present life. I've had ROTC and Corps friends talk about it, but that's all in the future, none of them have been sent to Iraq yet. I've only known dads of friends who have been sent to Iraq, and while it's affected them, and they've told me about it, it's not my dad, or brother, or cousin, or uncle, or friend.

But this past week I've found myself more interested in the War in Iraq, listening to new reports, reading up on its origins, reading about controversies, reading about horrible, terrible, horrific things that have happened. We all heard and saw the pictures from the Abu Ghraib prison tortures, and just googling the name to check the spelling brought up horrifying images. And what about the US soldiers who raped an Iraqi girl, and murdered her and her entire family? These might be isolated incidents of a deranged and depraved few, and I don't consider them to be representative of our soldiers. But what about the high rate of sexual assaults and sexual harassment against women in our military? I truly respect our soldiers, their families, and their sacrifice. But no amount of email forwards of US soldiers hugging Iraqi children will make me believe that war does not bring out the worst in people. I know that it sometimes brings out the best in people, and purple heart medals and heroic stories are testimony to this, but I believe that many soldiers from Iraq are making a tremendous sacrifice and returning home worse from their experiences, as many sustain traumatic brain injuries and suffer from PTSD.

Am I anti-war? I hate that label, because in our society, to label someone as anti-war also means that they're radically liberal or unpatriotic, but these words are just misguided attacks. I love my country, and I hate war. War is ugly and a result of the fall and the presence of sin in the world, and as Christians, we probably should be against war. I believe that wars are sometimes necessary and there is such a thing as a just war, but I believe that this current war against Iraq was unnecessary. I know that at the time, just about everyone in Washington, reds and blues alike, believed this war to be necessary, but they were making judgments off of false information. Now that we know more of the truth, we're so far into this war, that we can't just pull out, we have to stay and attempt to stabilize the country. I hope that good will come of this, for Iraq and the United States.

I want our nation to make wise decisions about war. I want us to stand up against injustice, with the help our international community, and use our military power for good. I doubt that the Republican party can adequately do that, and I'm not sure that the Democratic party can do it either. I really can't put my full hope in political leaders and policies, but I do put my hope in the belief that one day Christ will return, he will judge the nations, and we will beat our swords (or machine guns, or tanks) into plowshares and need weapons no longer.

Until that day, tanks will roll across the plains, reminding us of our fallen state.

green, living, and growing

It must be genetic. Like my cousin, my thumbs aren't green either. My roommate is gone for the summer, and at the very last minute she asked, "Hey, can you water my ivy? It just needs it every two weeks." This seemed like a really simple request, I mean, of course your roommate is responsible enough to water one plant every two weeks, right? Poor little ivy went an entire month without water. I noticed this about a week ago. This little guy by the sink was looking very droopy and brown, and I realized that it had been at least a month. How ironic, it sits right by the sink, all day long, watching me rinse my dishes, fill up my Brita pitcher, etc, but never receiving any of this overly abundant water to quench its own thirst. I think it's starting to recover. A few of the leaves on the ends of it look green, which might be new growth, who knows. Ivies are supposed to be hardy little plants, so I think it'll make it.

I think I'm starting to recover too, and I feel like there are parts of me that are becoming more green and coming back to life again. I finally feel like I can breath easy and receive water for my thirst. This past week has been good for me. This weekend is good too. At least for the present, I'm letting go of worrying about making friends, finding things to do, running around, trying to outrun my loneliness. You can't outrun loneliness, by the way. Or at least I can't. I'm not that fast of a runner. And the running just gets exhausting. So for the time being, I've stopped. And you know what? When you stop running from loneliness, sometimes it stops chasing you. Instead of trying to find people to spend my Friday and Saturday evenings with this weekend, only to be disappointed when someone's busy or when my ex shows up, I'm resting. I'm working on my papers due next week, hanging out at coffee shops, watching X-Files, making rice krispie treats, journaling, reading, relaxing, and praying.

I'm praying that I'll understand God's love for me more, that I'll see myself as he sees me, that I'll see him as I should, that I'll start trusting him again, that I'll let go of my fears, and really have faith that he will take care of me and give me all that I need. I don't think this will all happen in one weekend, but I'm trying to get to a place where I can rest my confidence in God, and love myself as he loves me, and not seek constantly seek approval from others, and be ok with being alone, and still need others, but not needing others. I think when I'm in this state, a lot of these worries will become insignificant, and I'll be open to receiving from God and others, and eventually able to freely give. I've been giving, or at least going through the motions, but at the heart of my giving is loneliness and feelings of being unneeded, and through giving, I've been hoping to be filled with something else, whether it's just filling up my time or giving me a sense of being needed for a few hours.

I feel good about this. I don't feel lonely. I don't feel unloved. I don't feel rejected. I feel at peace. Not overly happy, not excited, not thrilled, just peaceful.

About a month ago, I noticed that at the bottom of my blog I had this quote from a Rich Mullins song: "I am home anywhere, if you are where I am." I want this to be true, and today, I'm starting to believe it.

He will rejoice over you with singing

"Sing, O Daughter of Zion;

shout aloud, O Israel!

Be glad and rejoice with all your heart,

O Daughter of Jerusalem!
The LORD has taken away your punishment,

he has turned back your enemy.

The LORD, the King of Israel, is with you;

never again will you fear any harm.

On that day they will say to Jerusalem,

'Do not fear, O Zion;

do not let your hands hang limp.
The LORD your God is with you,

he is mighty to save.

He will take great delight in you,

he will quiet you with his love,

he will rejoice over you with singing.' "

Zephaniah 3:14-17

Monday at a women's meeting with my church, those words were poured out over my friend Natalie. She described feeling oppressed by shame and fear, by lies that her family had told her, that were keeping her from experiencing God's love and affection from others. Praying over her, praying for freedom, praying against this oppression, was a truly beautiful experience. We prayed, we cried, we laughed, words of truth were spoken, metaphors were described, images were imagined, scripture was read, song lyrics were quoted. There's really no way to describe it. Just imagine, one small blonde girl sitting on her knees, crying, blowing her nose, and at least 20 other women, Arwens, unwilling to let our friend, our sister, be bound by darkness, as we prayed and spoke over Natalie about 20 minutes.

Through this experience of speaking healing and freedom into Natalie's life, I also found that freedom and life is being given to me as well. I suppose it's true, as one part suffers, all parts suffer, and as one part rejoices, all parts rejoice. I imagine that I wasn't the only one suffering, and the only one who left that meeting rejoicing. I woke Tuesday morning truly happy and full of life. This was the first day since the breakup that I was actually excited to wake up. I'd had pleasant dreams, dreams that were hopeful, and Andrew was in them, but I didn't miss him. He was there, but he didn't matter, and I woke up feeling like that could be possible, that exciting things are in store for me and that I will be free from missing him and feeling lonely.

Tuesday continued to be a great day. My classmate and I went down to Austin to see Feist in concert. The concert was incredible, and the whole afternoon/evening was a great escape. Even though it was a Tuesday night, it felt like a weekend, like a true vacation, and we were able to escape our school obligations for a few hours and really relax and enjoy ourselves.

My classmate also recently went through a breakup, and we dreamed about places we wanted to travel too and things that we wanted to do, and it got me really excited. I hadn't dreamed that way since I'd been dating Andrew. I had lots of dreams and excitement, but they all centered around him and how he could fit into my future. A lady at the women's meeting described how before she was married, she imagined taking all of her dreams and goals and placing them in a box and wrapping them as a gift. She knew that when she was married that she wouldn't have to throw away this box, but it would a gift that she could trust to her husband. She knew that God would provide her with someone who would take care of her dreams and goals. I really like that imagery. It's easy for me to be extreme and get caught up in the idea of being single and doing only what I want or of being married and surrendered to a husband and possibly giving up dreams, but I trust that God has someone for me who will cherish my dreams and help me fulfill them, and I don't have to fear giving them up because I'll be giving them over to someone I can trust.

In addition to the great concert and good time with friends, I came home from Austin with a bike! A couple of years ago, my mom gave me her old bike, but it was stolen. Lately, I've been thinking that I wanted a bike again, to ride for fun, and also I'm hoping to live closer to campus next year so I could possibly commute with it. My birthday's coming up, and I had even thought about asking for a bike for my birthday. My classmate and I picked up her friend Emily for the concert. Emily started talking about how she was getting a new bike, I mentioned wanting a bike, and she offered me her old one! It's a Hercules, made in England, and it's purple! It's such a girly bike - I absolutely love it! It needs some work, but I asked the men in my church small group about it, and there's a guy who really loves working on bikes, so he's excited to work on it! I'm really thrilled about it, it'll be great to start riding again. And did I mention it's purple? Remind me to post some pictures when we get it into shape.

Overall, it's been a really incredible week, but I've still had some hard times. I've been trying to figure out where to live and who to live with. I was considering buying a house, but a couple of weeks ago I decided against that. Last week, talking with a woman from my church about the breakup, I also started talking about housing, and we decided that it would be really good for me to live with some fellow church members. My roommates right now are ok, but we just don't connect, and I've never felt completely at home living where I live now. Like I've mentioned, I really want to connect with more women from my church and build female friendships, and I want to live somewhere that feels like a home. I think this would be really good for me, and I think it's what I need right now. I've talked with a couple of different sets of girls about it, but I'm still waiting for things to work out. Today, I got really frustrated, because things didn't work out with the first group of girls, and it may not work out with this second group. Both times, I got really emotional about it. I realize that I'm probably over reacting, but I'm hurt and lonely and I want so desperately for connect with others and I want something really good to look forward to! I've also realized that these feel a little like rejections. I just got a big rejection from Andrew, and then I felt rejected again when things didn't work out with the first group of girls. But they've assured me that it really just came down to the logistics and they want to continue to get to know me better and stay connected. I believe them, but I still have fear. I fear that because I'm no longer dating Andrew, that I'm going to lose these friendships I've started to build these past few months and just become distanced from these people. I know this isn't true, and people keep approaching me and telling me how they want to hang out, they want to stay connected to me, but I still have that fear. I fear being rejected again.

So, please pray for me about all of this. Pray that things will work out for me to live with some girls from church, pray that I'll really feel at home in my next place. Pray that I'll feel peace about this and be able to trust it to God without getting so emotional about it and without putting such high stakes on everything. Pray that I'll be free from these fears, pray that I'll continue to connect with others, and trust them. Pray that I won't be lonely, but that I will find good women to connect with during this time. And I have so much school work to do in the next three weeks, pray that I won't be distracted from that, but that I'll be diligent and get a lot done soon! My mom came to visit last weekend and that was really good, but I'm worried about this weekend. I have dinner plans on Friday and Saturday night, but most of the time I need to work on a big paper. I'm afraid that I'm going to get lonely, that I'm going to start thinking about Andrew and wondering what he's doing. Pray that I'll be free from that, that I'll just get absorbed in my paper and not worry about those things. I really am dreading this weekend, but I know that I shouldn't. It'll be a good time for me to be productive and to spend some time with the people here who I care about.

I started writing this post a couple of days ago, and there was more that I wanted to say, but I think this is enough for now.

lenten season

I've longed recognized my addiction to the internet. More than anything else, I can easily spend hours on the internet, especially late at night. I'll get online, "just to check my email," and the next thing you know, hours have passed, looking at facebook pictures of acquaintances I barely know, reading up about movies on imdb.com, looking up random facts on wikipedia, reading some of my favorite online comics. Often, these are hours when I should be sleeping or studying or anything more productive. Sometimes, the things I do on the internet aren't just wasteful, but are actually harmful to me. Things like looking at an ex-boyfriend's facebook profile when I'm feeling lonely. Other things too, things that aren't good for my mind, soul, or emotions. And the internet never satisfies. I'm always hoping for one more message, one more comment, one more discovery that will be so satisfying, that I can log off and do something else. But even if the internet gives me that, it always leaves me wanting more. I'm never satisfied by the internet like I am reading the Bible, or a good book, or spending time with a good friend, or watching a good movie.

In the past, I've tried to do somethings to address this addiction. Senior year of high school, I gave up AIM for Lent, and two years ago, I gave up Facebook for Lent. I've tried to limit myself, telling myself that I can only go to certain websites one time a day. When my computer battery was newer, I'd sometimes just unplug it, and use the internet until the battery went dead, which was usually within an hour. Lately, I've been thinking about how freeing it would be to not have the internet in my home at all. Spurred on by Ben's post and our comments, I decided to try this for a week - pretend like there's no internet at my home. I can only use the internet at work, or if I go to a coffee shop with free wi-fi. This was a great week. I slept better, read my Bible more, got more studying done, and was late less often. I felt happier and healthier.

With the success of that one week, I've decided to try this again for the season of Lent. Since Ash Wednesday until Easter, I'm giving up using my internet at home. I can check my email and do my thing every weekday at work, and on Saturdays I can go to a coffee shop to study and use the internet. Sunday is the day for breaking the fast, so if I want to use the internet at home on Sunday, then I will. Of course, if I need to use the internet to work on something school related, then I will. I hope to continue blogging at least once a week, and reading your blogs, but if my comments are late or absent, then it's nothing against you and your writing.

I'm really excited about this, more excited about this than any other Lenten fast that I've participated in. I know it'll be challenging, but I already feel more free.

For my other friends who are also participating in Lenten fasts, then I wish you the best and I will send you my prayers.

“Loved by God, kept by Christ.”

This and other scriptures have been my mantra the past few weeks. I have been having a rough time lately, feeling lonely, unloved, guilty, hurt, insecure, and yearning for the approval of others. I feel like I’m fighting these feelings, and intrusive thoughts, lies that pop into my head based on the things I listed. I’m fighting them with prayers and scripture. It’s like some sort of faith-based-self-induced-cognitive-behavioral therapy – I’m trying to restructure the maladaptive thoughts and belief system with the truth that I know is God’s word. And it helps. For example, when I start to feel guilty and ashamed, I remind myself, “There is therefore now no condemnation in Christ,” “Those who put their hope in Christ will never be put to shame,” and “As far as the east is from the west,” that’s as far as my sins are from God. The Spirit is freedom, and I don’t want to beat myself up about things that are already forgiven, I want to experience freedom and life.

And God’s grace is at work through this time. The scriptures I am reading are becoming so much more real to me. They’re not just things I think; they’re things that I experience. Somehow, for the most part, I feel at peace. I feel hopeful, and I feel that this is right where I should be. Though November has been lonely and sometimes sad, it’s better than the anxiety and confusion that was September and October. I can handle sad and I know that it will go away. Anxiety and doubts, I’m not really sure what to do with those. More tangible, external things are also happening. I have dear close friends and relatives who, while not here physically to take away my loneliness, have been only a phone call or email away, and have supported me, prayed for me, and talked me through my rough nights and mornings. While I’m new at my church and all of these people are new to me, I’ve started to become closer to them. I am starting to connect with them and feel at home. A couple of weeks ago, I shared with my small group the loneliness that I’m feeling, and they’re responding and I’m starting to experience through them this connection with others that I long for. I’m starting to really experience what it means for a church to be a community. It’s not perfect, these aren’t my new best friends just yet, but step by step, I’m experiencing the community that my heart desires.

I’m also trying to let go of my expectations of these new people in my life. I’m trying to not let my self-worth be determined by other’s approval. I do desire close friendship and connectedness, and I need more support here, but I’m trying to not be needy. When I go into situations when I’m around new friends and just release my expectations, and just try to love and enjoy them, well, it usually goes great, connections just flow naturally and I’m thankful for that.

I have been so focused on myself these past few months, but I want to love others more. I want to really, genuinely care about all of those around me. I want to step out from myself, step away from my trying to make myself better and happier and instead focus on giving to others and enriching their lives.

I have no idea how any of this sounds. However this comes across, writing this is more real to me than writing about being white. I have started writing a follow-up to my whiteness post, but today is not the day to finish it. I actually started writing this post Sunday evening, during a time that was probably a low point for the past couple of weeks. I am feeling better, and I know that in spite of the rough times I’m experiencing, I’m becoming more whole and more myself because of it.