Mariage and Divorce: Holding on to Hope

There was some song in the 90s that had the lyrics "Joy and Pain, Sunshine and Rain" (I think they included a "pump it up, pump it up!" if you recall). That's where I am this week. Two special friends just got engaged and are glowing, couldn't be happier to spend their lives together. They asked us to stand up in their wedding with them, we could not be more honored to do that, and we're thrilled to walk alongside them, and they us, for this season of life in S. Texas and whatever future seasons we may have near them.

There's some scripture about sharing in the joys of some and the sorrows of others. Simultaneously, as one couple of friends is joining, another couple of our friends are contemplating ending their marriage, and for them my heart is wrenched. I wish I could say that this is the first time I've known people my age to get divorced, but that's far from the truth, even in my 20s. I'm a product of divorce too, so I know the damage it causes kids intimately. It devastates me that over half of today's marriages end in divorce. I'm not saying that in every circumstance it should be avoided, but how flippantly people can treat something so destructive is the dangerous part.

For Christians, marriage is a covenant relationship, not just a contract that you enter into for a time, to get out when the going gets tough; yet that's how we often treat it. We promise "for better and worse." God's covenant faithfulness to us never ends, yet our commitment to each other is all too often thrown out the window in favor of self-preservation, a natural (but not always Biblical) instinct. The problem with the promise we make in our weddings is, that when we say the words for better or worse, we never imagine that WORSE will come. All we can imagine is the BETTER. Maybe we theoretically believe that worse could come, but the form of it always takes us by surprise. Maybe we are devastated. Maybe we are betrayed. Some mix of pain and anger consumes us, and trust is lost; even worse, hope is lost. And that is deadly.

Comparison is never helpful, but I know that Los and I haven't had as easy of a marriage as some, nor as hard of a marriage as others, so I can't imagine the pain some of my friends have felt or currently feel, as they wade through the muck and mire that was once their hope and dreams. I don't know how their situation will end. All I know is that I watched their mouths utter the words for better or worse, and that makes me feel responsible to lift them up in their pain and fight for their marriage, for reconciliation. For redemption, for resurrection from death to life. We don't have to rest on our own strength, God's word promises to make us new creations, if we'll let God transform us (through God's word, yeah, but also through counseling, and good community.) I believe that if their hearts would be soft and repentant, and if they could extend the grace (that God extends to us first!!) they have received to their partner, who badly needs it; then hope is not lost. It is right to feel betrayed and wronged when you have been, absolutely, you deserve something/someone better, absolutely. But that doesn't mean that can't be with the spouse you have promised forever to. Maybe I am wrong not to validate the desire for divorce in this circumstance, but unless their pride and self-preservation proves me otherwise, I'm going to hold on to this hope, that God will do a new thing in their lives, and rebuild what has been shattered. Please join me from afar, in prayer, for my friends in Seattle.

I've been listening to a song by my favorite artist, David Crowder, a lot. The lyrics are a lot of my prayer, that God is with us from the beginning til the end and can meet us in the midst our pain/wounds and repair what has been destroyed in our hearts. May we all be made new. Enjoy.

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Marriage and God's Timing: Remembering our Stories

Two of my favorite people got engaged yesterday, Dave (a Navy pilot that Los did ROTC with) and Kiesha (my friend from college). We introduced them to each other (score another one for the Yenta-esque matchmaker in me), after I had told Kiesh about Dave for years. Their story is as sweet and powerful and redemptive as can be. The proposal story is hers to tell, but was beautiful and perfect. It was a total surprise to Kiesha, and on a day where she could be surrounded by her best friend, family and lots of loved ones. Hearing their story on the phone, and relaying it to Los, I started crying, and cried on and off the next few hours, as I was in awe of the power of God's covenant faithfulness to them in knitting them together in his perfect timing. They're 29, and for a long time, she was concerned that it wasn't God's plan for her to get married, even though it was the desire of her heart. Kiesha is so loving, giving and joyful to everyone else in her life; and was one of my friends that I wondered, "what's the hold up God? She's awesome, can't you just hurry up and make it happen for her?" I have a few other friends like that too, where I confuse my idea of timing with God's, and forget to have patience and trust in God's better judgment. Do you ever do this? I know I'm not alone in this mistake.

Hearing the result of their patience and trust in God was a good reminder for me to revisit areas where I feel anxious or aggravated instead of God's peace that surpasses understanding. Listening to their story also reminded me to remember my own story. Too often, lots of married people get bogged down with the massive to-do lists and bills and hurts and bitterness and unknowns and chores (maybe you don't, but I do) and we forget the magic and romance of what God did when we courted and married our spouse. I know that love isn't only a feeling, it's a verb, a decision, etc. But it's also a feeling! And I never want to lose the memory of or appreciation for the romance side of love. The day Carlos proposed to me in France, as I've said, is the best day of my life. Hearing Dave and Kiesha's proposal story prompts me to recall our own story more, so I can treat Los the say he deserves to be treated (the BEST!), rather than like just the guy who I wish would take out the trash or clean the dishes:) I'm not saying I'm a bad wife, but who among us does not have room for improvement? So there's my invitation to you who read this, and could stand to put your spouse (or a friend/family member) before yourself this week.

Our So-Called Life: Whirlwind Edition

So the winds of change are a-blowin' with hurricane force! Here are updates:

#1- OUR HOUSE SOLD! Praise God from whom all blessings flow!!! In this horrible buyers market, we were really nervous (read: I was really nervous) that I'd be stuck here until winter, with Los having to go ahead of me to TX. The market here has 10 months SOLID of inventory, our agent said she's only selling 3 houses a month!!! Compare this to 2005, when we bought: she closed on a house every other day! She said she took no days off, didn't vacation that year at all, and buyers were running around like mad. The day Los found our house, he was the first of 3 or 4 offers on the FIRST DAY it was on the market! Crazy... NOW the average house is taking 6 months to sell, and those are good houses, not crappy ones...

So the fact that our beautiful home took LESS than a month to get TWO offers, and for us to settle on a buyer and contract is nothing short of a providential miracle! I am oh so grateful, as it makes our move to TX right on time (as we thought out months ago), which NEVER happens! Our next door neighbors have been Geo-bacheloring from VA for 4 months so far with no end in sight, b/c getting out of their house is tricky, our other next door neighbors have put their house on the market TWICE in 3 years, with no luck, and are relocating to CA. Los' brother's house has been on the market in Seattle for 5 months while he's been in NY, and dropped $80,000 and still no offers, another friend's home just took 11 months to sell, so... WOW. I feel really blessed that this worked out so perfectly for us! We didn't make money, as we'd hoped to, but our peace of mind is priceless, as we don't know if we'll ever return to the northwest, and selling just made sense. Is my relief palpable to you?!

#2- WE GOT THE GOLF COURSE HOUSE IN TX! The link I posted this past month was to a slideshow of our fave house in TX (gorgeous custom home on the course: 3 bed/2 bath and amazing features everywhere- like the built-in 48 bottle wine cooler and gargantuan master closet, all of our clothes could fit in 1/6 of it!) We are so excited the owners picked us, when the realtor showed us around, it was by far our fave! We'll have wonderful neighbors (they gather once a month for wine/hors d'ouerves) and it's super safe/peaceful/gated community). After living near I-5 (I am such a light sleeper) I can't WAIT for our home to be somewhere SO QUIET!

So all this means...
#3- WE MOVE TO TX IN 3 WEEKS FROM TODAY! I can hardly believe it, even as I type this! It went from such ambiguity (will our house ever sell?) to GAME ON! So we're having a GOING AWAY PARTY THIS WEEKEND if you want to come? We'll be in Seattle trying to connect with people, and for Los' next race; and at home next weekend, when I may sky-dive with friends. The following weekend we have Kendall's wedding and then I'm going up to Canada to see JJ/Lisa and volunteer at Passion's World Tour stop in Vancouver. That will be fun, even though it means I won't sleep at our own home the last 2 nights we're in it. I'll drive back from Canada Tuesday morn and then we'll be off!

Our probable itinerary is as follows:
Tuesday 10/7- Lake Oswego, OR: playing with the Bishop's and buying stuff where there's no sales tax (can I say Apple store, with my 10% student/military discount?! Boo yah...)
Wednesday 10/8- Redwoods National Forest, CA
Thursday 10/9- Napa, CA and playing with the Flory's
Friday 10/10- Berkeley (maybe?) or Central Coast (SLO/ my parents' house in Los Osos)
Saturday 10/11- Fresno for my mom's 60th bday, woo hoo! Also FSU football tailgating and game with fam, fun!
Sunday 10/12-Flagstaff, AZ (or maybe Vegas, but probs not)
Monday 10/13- GRAND CANYON: we've never been, can't wait to hike around!
Tuesday 10/14- Santa Fe, NM (one of US' coolest, most unique cities, love it!)
Wednesay 10/15- Dallas and Austin, TX (we heart Austin, it's so awesome)
Thursday 10/16- shop and look at furniture (since we're selling ours on Craigslist for the most part)
Friday 10/17- arrive at the beach and new home. We're staying with some friends on the Island for 2 weeks until we can move into our new fab house on 11/2!

Many pics to come in the month to follow! Stay tuned to the life and times of the Evans adventures:)

Big Prayers

I like to assign certain people that I know will pray to certain things in our lives, but this next month has so much stuff I'm enlisting all of blogdom, if you want, to pray. Some times when I pray, I want to leave God an out, in case God has other things in mind... such as, "God, allow us to sell our house quickly... if you want to." I don't know if I do this because I humbly don't know the sovereign mind of God, or because I am operating out of doubt. So in any case, ya'll can claim God's truth as you intercede for us.

#1- That we would sell our house in WA soon.
#2- That we would find the perfect place in TX when we househunt down there.
#3- That I would get a job where I can use my gifting/talents/education .
#4- That I will pass all of my Ordination Exams in 3 weeks (I need to study a lot between now and then.)
#5- That my last seminary class ever (the next 2 weeks in Pasadena) will go smoothly and I'll write 27 pages by September.
#6- That Carlos will bless others and be blessed at Camp Side by Side (a camp coming alongside families with children that deal with cancer and serious illnesses) next week.
#7- That our heart remain close while we are separated for a few weeks (we should be pros at this by now, but it's always tough.)

With God in the Weeds

So my final research paper on Proverbs 31 got written after a delightful all-nighter... then we packed, had a great dinner with Jodi and flew down to CA. The next few days were amazing and pics/stories will ensue, but have been delayed because of... weeds. Many, many weeds inhabiting our property- more than seemingly possible. It is a sad thing when two people spend six hours in a garden and only get about 1/6 of the weeds up. However, some comical moments and spiritual nuggets always accompany our times in the garden. Here are a few of today's:

1) I always want to do the front yard first, because that's what neighbors and passers-by see. But the back yard is the beast that needs to be conquered. Likewise, in our lives, we try to take care of what's up front, and act like we've got everything together some times, to the neglect of real issues in our lives. Let me tell you people, the backyard weeds don't just disappear on their own! And neither do issues in our lives, I'm sad to say; I wish they did. But they need our attention. We can pretend to be happy and like everything is fine, but if the weeds in the back aren't rooted out, they'll keep on growin until they're almost unbearable. I hope your lives and mine don't get to a place like that. Take care of the back yard first.

2) Some times it's really hard to tell between a weed and a plant. Some weeds aren't spiky and ugly, they're deceivingly attractive. But I'm the gardener, and I know what belongs and what doesn't. I was reminded of Jesus' parable of The Weeds and the Wheat. a) I want to be a plant, not a weed and b) pray for others to be as well and c) while I'm fine being the judge in our yard, I'm glad I'm not the eternal judge between the two.

Can I Get an Amen?!

Celebrating 100 years of God’s faithfulness
It is hard to put into words what our experience last night was like. University Presbyterian Church of Seattle had it’s Centennial Celebration, it’s 100th birthday party, and it was grand. 400 volunteers and 2,000 people had an all-church picnic on Saturday. Then yesterday, the whole church was decorated with a timeline of photos and events in Seattle and the church, chronicling the past century. Larson Hall (gym) had a huge feast and lots of fun things for kids and adults.

It was an amazing party, and though we will leave this year and perhaps never come back, the past decade here has been so rich, and I feel so grateful to have been here for such a time as this. Remembering God’s faithfulness to people in the past (a la Hebrews 11 and in our own church family) helps propel us forward trusting God with the future.

The music team put together a medley using the song Amazing Grace, but singing different tunes from an array of genres in the past century (big band jazz, blues, Elvis-esque rock and roll, the Police, etc.) It was so fun. And while we sang songs like: In Christ Alone, How Great is Our God and Great is Thy Faithfulness, I felt like a blanket of prayers of the saints of old was laying on top of us. I am not a very charismatic person, but this felt like palpable blessing.

It made me grateful for everyone who has prayed for me and contributed toward my growth, and it made me excited to do the same for others. Earl preached on the beginning of Hebrews 12 (what I like to call a home run passage- how can you not do well with that?!) and talked about how just as people were faithful to their callings in the past, we are to be in our generation as well. Some things we have control over in our lives, and some things we don’t; and we can use both (what we perceive as) advantages and disadvantages to better ourselves and the kingdom of God.

A story he told weeks ago, that has stuck with me, comes from Einstein’s new biography. He shared that when Einstein graduated from college, full of brilliance and ideas, he couldn’t get a job in research with any scientists. A friend of his offered him a post as a 3rd-grade junior assistant in a mailroom in Bern, Switzerland. It was there, in the midst of his disadvantageous situation, that he had the time, and wrote his theorems, for which he is now famous. Likewise, in our lives, things we may perceive as setbacks, disappointments, or irrelevant to our goals, may in fact be the best thing that could ever happen to us.

100 years ago, on the edge of a then small university campus, some people from another church believed God could make something from nothing, and paid it forward in faith. 5000 members today (and countless others that have been sent out around the nation and world) are the harvest of what those few planted. I pray that we in turn, will steward our lives in such a way that will bless the generations yet to come. Can I get an amen?!

Moving and Option C) none of the above

Well, we still don't know where we're moving, but we're getting closer to narrowing it down! We feel good about California and Texas (for VERY different reasons). Of course, I am hesitant to commit my heart to either of those places, b/c God (and the Navy) always seems to surprize you with option C when you were least expecting it. Choosing our next set of orders is a lot bigger than just 'where do we want to live the next 3 years?' If that was the only question, CLEARLY we would choose CA. My wonderful family, the wonderful weather, our fun friends, and all the opportunity there, plus the like-minded culture make it the shoe-in vote. Plus, I want our (future, currently non-existent) baby to be born in the best state in the union!

However, it's not quite that simple. What we're wrestling with is more of the long-term question, what does he want to do the rest of his life. I am pretty clear on my vocation, but he's still a little fuzzy. The TX job would give Carlos a lot more flight hours and he'd get to spend his time instructing students, a job he loves and is gifted in. He is a born leader, and wouldn't have those chances in CA. And the TX job opens up a couple of avenues for future vocation, both in and out of the Navy. He is brilliant and could do anything, but equivocates between wanting to stay in the military, or be an airline pilot, a lawyer, and a highschool teacher and basketball/track coach:) Maybe he'll figure out a way to do all of them? And then there's always option c, that we can't even predict or imagine just yet... All that to say, we'll keep you posted:)

Grey's Anatomy and God gripe...

Okay, so I have had an issue stirring around in me since the last new Grey’s episode. First of all, what the writer strike?! We have missed how many new episodes? This is why I should have just stuck to watching dvd’s. Figure it out people, distribute the money justly, let’s all get along…

But that’s neither here nor there. My issue is with something Callie said, while talking to George’s mom. Now, in general, I am a big Callie fan. I would even think of naming a daughter her name (though I think that could be cheesy, considering the state I grew up in). I think she’s fun, smart, has little (compared to Meredith, gah!) baggage, and George was an idiot to cheat on her, and not try to work things out. However, this is not a blog about my disdain for infidelity…

What she said, in a really sad voice, was, “I used to believe in God and marriage and heaven and hell.” Then George’s mom asked, “now what do you believe in?” And she said, “I believe in love, and second chances.” What makes me sad is that there was no equation of the two, they were antitheses if you will. I USED to believe this, NOW I believe this.

If I know anything about God to be true, it is that God is the inventor, the very embodiment, of love and second chances. The whole Old Testament reiterates this theme again and again, Israel as an unfaithful bride, God as the ever-merciful husband; or Israel as the wayward child, God as the longing parent. The New Testament repeats this theme in parables like the Prodigal Son. Even on the cross, the thief says to Jesus, “remember me” and Jesus says, “you bet.” (my paraphrase) There is NEVER a time where God’s heart is not for people to be reconciled to God. Reconciliation of people (to themselves, to others and to God) is a meta-narrative, if you will, throughout Scripture and history. God wants us to be whole people, and God knows how many second chances that takes! I can’t begin to count the ‘second chances’ I’ve been given.

What makes me sad is when people experience or see suffering and think that if there is suffering, there can’t be a loving God. Or when people do something they deeply regret, yet don’t allow their stories to have a new chapter written. When they resign themselves to thinking, ‘this habit, this behavior, this decision’ is just part of me. And they don’t allow for newness in their lives. We all make mistakes, no one is perfect, everyone needs second chances and love, to come out of dark places.

God gives us those things. Do we receive them? Truly? Do we give each other love and second chances? Even when we’ve been wounded? It is hard work. But worth it. And as God’s hands and feet on this earth, that is our call, to be ambassadors of love and second chances.
Maybe we’ll meet a Callie some day? Truth is, we probably already know one.

These are my random thoughts when watching a tv show…

GRATITUDE: the Anti-Anxiety

When you’re having anxiety attacks the first week of the year, that is not a good sign. This feeling of panic has become a weekly feature in my life, kind of like taking the garbage cans out on Thursdays, just another thing I’m growing accustomed to. I don’t like this about myself.

I’ll be honest, 2008 has been a little rough on me, so far. It came out of nowhere. I mean, 2007 was full of growth and memories and joy and then BAM, all of a sudden it’s 2008, and I’m having anxiety attacks every time I look at a calendar, day-planner, or think of all that is going to transpire this year (graduating, trying to get pregnant, moving who knows where). 2008 always seemed like a year far off in the distance, I knew it was coming, but apparently I wasn’t emotionally ready!

Theologically, I know that God is in control of my life and will aid me through every situation I face; he is with me, doesn’t forsake me, and equips me with everything I need. So I’ve been trying to figure out how to be relaxed and productive, honoring the many tasks at hand. My friend Jordyn was commenting on how she doesn’t understand how you surrender things to God and feel peace, because it’s those anxious times (when things have piled up and she feels the weight on her shoulders) that she is most productive.

She made me think, and I realized that she’s on to something, because WE are God’s agents in this world, we are his hands and feet, and we can’t just pray for God to figure out our lives and then just wait around lazily. Sure, ask for miracles, but pursue what you want too. I mean, the Christian jargon of, “I’m just waiting for a door to open,” is kind of obnoxious sometimes. I mean, I get it, but who was I listening to, Donald Miller, that said sometimes you need to kick closed doors in if that’s where you’re passionate about being…

So how can I go through this year, which will undoubtedly be busier than any other year of my 29 years of existence, as well as full of unknown pieces, and feel at rest? I’m not sure, but I think the answer is gratitude. When I left the library last Tuesday and felt that ball of anxiety in my stomach consuming my internal organs, I just looked at the sky and said,

“God, thank you that there’s a blue sky in January. Thank you that I can breathe, that I have legs to walk uphill with right now. Thanks for our new Prius, which I love, and thanks that I get to meet with fantastic college girls every week. Thanks that we have more friends than our schedule has time for. Thanks that we’re pursuing our dreams and living with passion, even if that includes scary ambiguity. Thanks that I have the best partner I could imagine for my journey through life, and that you are teaching me about my life’s calling in ministry. Thanks that you are the giver of good gifts to my life; they are abundant, even when I forget about them, and I am grateful!”

As I drove to Hebrew, reflecting on all of these things I am grateful for, the anxiety started to ebb, and I started to feel his peace. I wish I could say it lasted the rest of the week, or even all day long, but that’s not true. But it was there, and it was awesome... So I’m going to try to develop this regular practice of gratitude in this crazy season, to proclaim all the ways God has been faithful and a deliverer, hopefully increasing my trust that once again, as always, he will come through for his child. Because I know he will. I have tasted, I have seen, and I know that the Lord is good.

Australia intro to sermon:)

Have you ever come back from a “vacation” and been exhausted? Have you ever thought you needed a vacation from your “vacation?” I use quotation marks with the word vacation because my husband has banned me from using that word to describe future trips we take. This week he said that a vacation would be relaxing and being rejuvenated from the stress of normal life. You see, trips I plan are nothing like that… they are more like adventures.

For some reason I think I need to cram as much as possible into our trips. Who knows if I’ll ever go back to a place? So I want to make the most of every opportunity. We just went to Australia for a couple weeks. I wanted to see a new part of the world, to hear the orchestra play at the Sydney Opera House, to smell the Eucalyptus as we hiked through the Blue Mountains, to taste interesting new foods and wine, and most of all to swim in God’s aquatic masterpiece, the Great Barrier Reef.

Everyone we met there from other parts of the world laughed when we told them our itinerary; they were taking months to accomplish what we jammed into 10 days. And wouldn’t you know, after adding too many things to my proverbial plate, my body finally called it quits. I got sick. And let me tell you, a 13 hour plane ride with a splitting headache and ears which refuse to adjust to the pressure, is miserable.

Now, if this were the first time this had happened to me, I might hope for your sympathy. But unfortunately, this has become a pattern in my life on vacations. My family jokes that I only get sick in exotic destinations. Apparently my brain is too dense to realize that my body is sending the message, “Stop! Stop. Adding too many things to the agenda is not healthy. It is dangerous, and it can destroy you.”

Perhaps you all are wiser than me, but I wonder if you also fall into the myth that ‘more is more’ in some way? I could preach a whole sermon on how both our culture and the church is frequently saturated with this lie that more is more or better. And those who rebel and ascribe to the minimalist, less is more, philosophy aren’t automatically off the hook either, because usually there is some pride and judgment in comparison to the other camp. We can make idols either way. There is a need to throw out that whole continuum; life is not about either end, indulging or abstaining, or achieving mythical ‘balance’ to have an equal ratio of each. Life is about being faithful to God and living in rhythm with him. And if we are entangled in idolatry, making anything else bigger than it deserves to be, we can’t devote ourselves whole-heartedly to God. We need to learn how to let things in our lives be in their proper places, so that we can make the most of our lives

When In Doubt, Trust Your Horse!

One of the most fun things we have done recently is go horseback riding in the Cascade Mountains just east of our house. One of my friends in Canada this summer said it's the best hiking area in the west, little did we know...

Right before the six of us took off, I went to the bathroom in a remodeled part of our friends' barn. Going in, I noticed a sign that said, "when in doubt, trust your horse." Hmmm, I thought, I wonder what that's all about? I soon found out.

We had been plodding up switchbacks on a fairly narrow trail for a couple of minutes, when we came to what felt like a 45-degree incline up a mountain on a 3-foot wide trail. Without warning, the six horses took off galloping up the tiny chute! I shrieked, out of fear, then my breath was taken away. I had no time for claustrophobia, I hung on to my reins for dear life. If I had fallen off, I would've tumbled down into a ravine 75 yards below, breaking all kinds of bones, if I made it out alive, that is...

After what seemed like an eternity (when in reality, it was maybe 8 seconds of galloping) we came to a much flatter and wider space. It took a while to catch my breath and leave my adrenalized state... We resumed walking, trotting and cantering along verdant paths that went into woods and along blackberry bushes, and occasional vistas. Soon I learned that the horses habits in narrow places were to get through them as quickly as possible, even if it meant scaring their riders to death. Once I could predict their behavior, I could at least prepare my heart for the terror to come, knowing it would be short lived.

It was awesome. I found myself in awe when we were all in a pristine Tolkien-esque forrest, untouched by humanity. The horses drank from the brook beneath their feet, and I took in all the smells, sights and sounds of nature's finest offering.

After about an hour more, we returned to the house, to brush/feed the horses, and down some beverages ourselves. When we drove home, I could not get the smile off my face. That was the most exhilirating experience I had had in a long time. Sheer fear (not being sure if I would be able to hang on to the horse/stay alive) combined with sheer joy (the beauty of the powerful animals and unadulterated nature), totally exhiliarting...

Most of our rides through life are the boring walking parts, unmemorable, one day from the next. But the galloping parts are always the defining moments, when we learn something about our mortality, or maybe that we are more brave than we'd previously thought. Maybe this is why Los and I love roller-coasters too, it evokes the thrill in our hearts as well. I never wanted to have a safe life, where everything was predictable. Those narrow chutes are the part I remember the most from that day. It's comforting to know that when we don't know what's going on in our lives, or if we can hang on, we can trust that "someone" else does. When in doubt, trust your horse.

Long-Haul Truckers and Seminary...

God works in funny ways. Over the past few years that I've been in seminary, many people have asked me why I am seeking a Theology degree. For people who aren't Christians, they just look at me like I'm an alien (it's a great way to immediately end a conversation with a stranger, let me tell you...) They think it's a waste of $50G and my time... For some that are Christians, I've gotten the responses ranging from, "But you're a woman, you can't be a pastor!" to, "If you love God, and want to serve him in ministry, why do you need a degree? Why can't you just use the Bible as your manual and trust the spirit will lead you?"

Usually I just let words fumble around in my mouth as I try to articulate the importance of the education I'm receiving. To learn about the history of the church is to learn about its present state and its future. To learn about the context in which Scripture is written, and the original languages in which its written, makes a huge difference in comprehension of the text. To learn about the variety of ways people interpret it, and experience God, around the world is eye-opening and humbling. E.g. God is not white, middle-class, American Republican, who knew?! Who said that, "if God has made us in his own image, we have more than reciprocated?" Voltaire, maybe, but that is so true... So seminary has been a great experience of growth of knowledge, reverence, and many other things for which I'm grateful.

However, I've never been as affirmed in my pursuit of education, as when I read a recent New York Times article regarding deregulation of long-haul trucking and its inherent dangers. The article featured the story of a 19-year old young man, who was on his first cross-country trip. Because of cuts made during the Bush administration to his "field of expertise", he'd scarcely been trained at all. His instructor was a mere 21, with one whole year of trucking under his belt... clearly qualified, right? So they spent a week or two, "learning the ropes" and took off from the west coast, heading east.

A couple of days later, after 12 hours of driving (while his instructor slept in the back of the cab most of the time), this tired young man plowed into the back of a Jeep, which had a 62 year old woman in it. The Jeep was pushed off an embankment and the woman died on impact.

As I sat there reading about this, I thought, THIS is why I'm in seminary. (No, not to become a long-haul truck driver) Because more education and training in his vocation, before hitting the road and being tested, could have saved that woman's life. Not everything can be learned in books, of course, much of the artistry of any vocation comes in the 'doing' of it. As my mom always says, she earned her Ph.D. and then learned how to be a psychologist... But the practice, the training that goes into earning the degree should set you up for later success in life.

As anyone who follows media stories surrounding people who've missed the mark in our vocation, Ted Haggard being one of the latest, can attest; more training, before investing in, and building up a ministry can not hurt. It can help you be aware of yourself, strengths, and more importantly, weaknesses. It can help you build a team of complementary gifting, and partner with a larger group of people with whom there is accountability, checks/balances. It can help you be sensitive/relevant to the particular dynamics of your congregation.

Anyway, enough of my soapbox, but now I have a parable to go along with my answer for the next time someone at a party, or on a plane, asks me that question. And as for that young man, pray for him... I'm not sure if he's in jail now; all I know is that he's being sued by the woman's family. He was just a guy, trying to make it in this world, and wasn't set up for success. It's a sad situation, but hopefully it won't be the defining experience in his life, there's so much more to live for...

On Christianity, Africa, and two books that changed my life...

"Better late than never," so the saying goes; but I am still sad, disappointed or some other undistinguishable emotion, that I didn't read either of these books until now. They were amazing to me, I found myself reacting viscerally at times, with different emotions they evoked. I read Chinua Achebe's Things Fall Apart first, which took me through an unexpected journey.
Embarrassing as it is, to admit now, I started off with anger at the main character, Okonkwo. I thought he was barbaric and cruel, treating his wives abusively. Polygamy was a hard concept for me to swallow, let alone spousal abuse. I quickly diagnosed him, psychologically, and determined that "he needs help." At that point, I would've preferred to throw the book across the room and forget about it; but, gritting my teeth, I begrudgingly obliged my professor to finish it. I wasn't being prejudiced; Okonkwo was just awful, right? Maybe not...
In life, the longer I stay invested in a person, the larger propensity I have to turn my heart towards theirs, having compassion, showing understanding, and choosing to believe that they're doing the best they know how to do. My heart only stays hardened when I make a pre-mature judgment. Spending time in this book was like that, and though I dreaded continuing on, somewhere in the middle of it, I took inventory of my emotions, and realized that I no longer despised Okonkwo. That sneaky guy had snuck into my heart, mattering and making sense to me. Somewhere around when he traveled to be near his wife, Ekwefi, and their daughter Ezinma, I realized his heart for his family, and that changed everything.
When the missionaries entered into relationships with the natives, at first I had a neutral or semi-positive view of them, since I identify most with western culture. But it became increasingly disturbing towards the end of the book, to see the results of their actions. At first I thought Nwoye was brave for pursuing his curiosity in Christianity. I'd never considered how that might feel for a people group, as though they've "lost" a family member, one of their own, to new beliefs, ways and traditions. And I'd never thought of the convert in terms of being ostracized from family and community, seeing how high the stakes were opened my eyes and was grievous to me.
The missionaries could have been so much more graceful, as well, trying to get to know the tribes longer, and making connecting points with their culture and the gospel. Instead of just putting down their opinions, dismissing their concerns in a pejorative way, and imposing their governmental structure and trade stores, they could have worked at relationships and nonjudgmental sharing of their faiths.
It was a big slap in the face to realize that I've naively thought that we "help" cultures more "primitive" become more "advanced" in the past. I've been reshaping my perception of "missionary" work in the past five years. However, hearing that the District Commissioner was going to name his book "Pacification of the Primitive Tribes"... made me cringe and sick to my stomach, because that's something I probably thought in "mission" work I did overseas in high school and college.
Another thing the books made me think about is how I need to change when I am sharing the Gospel with my non-believing friends, neighbors, and family members. For some reason, I think people should try to be just like me, as they pursue personal growth. I hold them to an unfair (and unspoken) standard, which would never be attainable. I get irritated when they compromise (in my opinion) by being lazy spiritually, or doing things like sleeping with their boyfriends, smoking pot or drinking alcohol in excess, for example. How would they know any better? Yet my judgment clouds potential connections I could make between their lives and people in Scripture who were seeking avenues of self-fulfillment as well, and asking questions of ultimate value.
It is kind of embarrassing to have these books call to my attention ways I have ignored or missed opportunities for the gospel to be shared, yet simultaneously tried to fix outer habits (symptoms) of people. It seems laughable, in retrospect, that I would even assume such a thing was possible. With my misplaced zealousness, it must be a drag, at times, for people to be around me- a humbling realization.
I loved the how Vincent Donovan, in his book Christianity Rediscovered, tried to strip down all the Western baggage associated with Christianity, in his presentation of the gospel to the Masai tribe in East Africa. This book impacted me in a huge way. If I hadn't borrowed a library copy, which was already majorly underlined, I would've done some intensive writing in it myself. As it is, I dog-eared many a page in the book.
I found it fascinating to think through how being a white American with heritage from Greco-Roman Western Europe has colored my perception of the gospel. In the first few centuries after Christ, the Church became established there and "determined" what acceptable beliefs and practices were; so clearly that plays into how those of us who're descendents today react towards/against cultures that perceive things differently, due to a different frame of reference. As people figured out what the gospel meant in their Western context, it became the standard, rather than aiming for people elsewhere to figure out how the gospel could interplay with their respective cultures.
It was alarming to reflect on damage missionaries in the past century have done in the name of Christ; urging people to turn away from their tribal god, and turning toward our tribal god, instead of searching for the true God together. Though we can only "know in part," while on earth, how much more beneficial for both parties for us to search for God together, instead of us bringing God to Africa. God is already there, signs of God's love are already manifested in their communities; it is merely our task to point God out to people who might not realize that truth.
How far we have strayed from Paul's missionary journeys! We have changed from the centrifugal movement of Jesus' great commission, "Go therefore and make disciples of all nations", to a centripetal, "Come be like us." Rather than a "finishable" task, training up natives, we have made these unending situations of Africans dependence upon us for their well being and guidance. I can certainly understand how European and American Christians thought they were helping the worldwide Church grow, planting schools and hospitals in Africa, and in a round-about way, coercing natives to accept their beliefs along with education, or health care. I probably would've done something similar, being shortsighted, and not thinking through the implications of imposing my own cultural assumptions of what is essential for their society.
These books have been invaluable to me, in causing me to reflect on all of these topics. I don't want to miss the mark, identifying the gospel "with any social, political, or economic system... accepting the limits of that system, [and in so doing] betraying the gospel," as Donovan says. I want to be aware of the cultural baggage and limitations I have, and able to identify them, in times where I question the validity of an opinion or experience different than what I adhere to, or have had. The gospel is inherently attractive and compelling, but I, along with many others, have done it an injustice by being unaware of what we add to it. May the reading of these two books just be the beginning of my journey towards, as Donovan puts it, rediscovering Christianity.