poem and prayer

it is a new day.
it is a brand new day.
life has changed.
life will never be the way it was.
for you do not delight in my sacrifices that produce
perfection,
power,
wealth,
popularity,
safety,
legalism.
woe to these bandaids.
in this lenten season,
and once, for all,
know
i am forgiven
and being made whole.

-los

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.

Awkward Change

I never finished posts about our trip across the country.  My goal is to do that today, but so far I have been in a funk, no kidding, since we crossed the Texas border line.  Reality set in that we weren't just on an epic 3,000 mile roadtrip.  No, no, we were moving to this new foreign land that quite frankly has nothing on the west coast in terms of beauty.  I grew up right by the Sierras and Yosemite, then in college moved to a place that is gorgeous with water and mountains (albeit rainy) daily.  Moving to a land of hot, dusty brown flat terrain is less than ideal.  My heart sunk as this reality set in, and I felt deep within me the need to cry it out.  Like full on sob, grieving what I lose (not only natural beauty, but deep friendships and closeness to at least one set of family) in moving here.  I have tried on multiple occasions the past week to cry, but tears won't come, so thus far I just feel stuck in sadness, loneliness and depression.

Needless to say, it's been a brutal transition, and that's not easy for me to admit or write about.  I want to be the positive adventure gal that is fired up about everything.  Instead I feel like the Psalmist lamenting in misery to God.  I have been sleeping a lot, and emotionally down when I'm awake.  I'm trying to make choices to exercise (walking the beach, etc. which is pretty cool) and eat well, and to reframe life.  I don't want to stay stuck in my self-induced pity party.  But at least for my first week here, that's where I've been.

Life is just going to look very different here.  Slow.  Which feels unfamiliar after the past 3 years of graduate school and traveling like crazy, and having tons of people to spend quality time with.  I have felt purposeless here, which is an awful feeling.  And untrue- we aren't purposeful because of what we can check off of our to-do lists.  We are purposeful because God delights in us and chooses to make himself known through us.

I think this second week will look better than the first.  There are still so many question marks...  the economy going down took away my potential job as a hospital chaplain, so now I've been interviewing at churches here.  There are some interesting options, but nowhere that's the obvious fit.  We get our new house and all our stuff back this Sunday/next Monday, which will be a treat, to have our own space, after living in other people's space out of suitcases for the past month.  I will meet with an infertility doc to talk about our options to become parents, and slowly some of our question marks will be erased.  

In all of this, I am grateful for Los, who's been such a servant to me, and an encourager when I've felt constantly down.  I love him so much for knowing exactly how to be my best friend and strong when I feel massively weak.  I know that God will do a new thing in our lives individually and as a couple in this new season, so here's to having no idea what the future looks like!  Please pray for me:)

Greater Things are Still to Come!

Well, our time in the Northwest has come to a close, we are about to pack up our car and head south, beginning our 10 day road trip to our new home in TX. We went out with a bang, attending the World Tour of Passion in Vancouver last night.

I came up with JJ and Lisa Sunday. It was special to hear how their transition to life in Canada has been. Change is always hard (I know, I am facing it imminently) but it can be life-giving and fruitful and surprising in its goodness. I stayed at their charming apartments and borrowed their car (thanks guys!) for yesterday. When I got downtown to GM Place I met lots of other volunteers, who'd flown up from California, Nashville, Texas, Minnesota and elsewhere to give back to a group that has given so much to them. It was cool to hear other people's stories that aren't too dissimilar from my own. God impacted us hugely through Passion in some way, so here we are to bless the next generation of students...

The two gals I got to know best were both divorced moms. I got to pray over them that greater things are still to come in the unfolding of God's grace in their lives, even if their stories have looked quite different than they would've imagined. There can not be a resurrection without a cross. The cross is painful, but it leads to hope and true life.
I also prayed over these unassuming students, who would fill this empty arena, that God might impact them in a powerful way, as he has us over the past decade.

It was special to see the line of students forming 3 hours prior to doors opening! An arena security guard was baffled by this, "uh, they know they can't get in yet, right?" Yep, yep they do. It was so great to have a concentrated time of prayer for Vancouver and the northwest with people from all over the place.

Staff prayer time, I love the hearts of all the people in this room who have blessed me the past decade. It was fun to serve them the last night of my decade in the northwest.

The view from our volunteer lounge, pretty special. I will carry this night with me for a long time.

Israel and Palestine

My friend Kate has had some posts about Palestine (last winter, and this week) that were illuminating about Christians and oppression in Palestine. This week she shared how Christians even boycott sponsoring World Vision children in Palestine, click here to read that sad story. Then another friend, Heidi, posted this on her Facebook status update: Heidi is saddened that the unwavering support of Israel is considered more “patriotic” than the primacy of basic human rights. Check out this link she offered, called If Americans Knew. Eye-opening to say the least.

Wrapping up the Gift of Time

Today is my last full day in sunny So Cal. It has been an intense, but blessed two weeks here. My last seminary class is now over, all I have left is 12 hours of exams (3 today, 9 next weekend) and to read 2 books and write 27 pages. But I have a month to do all that.

Seminary has been an amazing 5 year journey in so many ways, and I am truly grateful for the role Fuller has played in my spiritual and academic growth and vocational discernment. However, it's been somewhat of a lonely time too, so many days/nights with just books and a laptop to keep me company. When Los was overseas for all those months, I was grateful to have the distraction of books/laptop, but attending a satellite campus as I did, I have really missed the communal element of being at a main campus. Not just driving in, sitting, and leaving; but sharing life together. Part of my favorite memories of grad school will be the summer I lived in Canada, going to Regent; if solely because of the shared meals/conversations that arise out of being in proximity to one another. I love hearing people's stories and seeing where our passions connect and diverge. I think there is nothing more powerful a human can say to another than, "you too?" Loneliness is part of the human condition, and to bridge that gap by connecting with others is such a gift.

All that to say, I feel like I've been trying to cram years worth of fellowship into the past 2 weeks. There weren't many females in Seattle at school that I felt on the same page as, maybe only Lisa, whereas they are in abundance down here. I felt joy and solidarity in so many conversations, many of which would not have ended if not for the clock reminding us that "time flies when you're having fun." I had good connection time with:

KC- whom I've known 17 years now! It's special to have that history with people. She's who I stayed with, 1.5 mi. from campus.
Amie- same, bridesmaid, and my best friend from jr.high/high school years, she came down for a wedding in LA. I was so happy to see her, even if I never got to go to Magic Mountain:(
Diane- classmate
Denise- classmate
Libby- Fuller's ASB president and all-around awesome gal who makes me laugh!
Heidi- E's great friend who through FB has become my friend, she's who works for World Vision and is amazing.
Katie- I know her from FL, and we graduated together. Very like-minded and encouraging to be around! I could've have talked with her forever.
Hanna- she was in our wedding too, and I know her from Cal, she's now getting a Ph.D at UCLA and is so wonderful, I hate that I only see her every few years!

Tonight I get to see my mom and have some good hours with her too, which will be great. And then back up to my real life I go, cherishing this great gift of time with women.

Beijing Olympics

I have mixed feelings about China and these Olympics, but I've gotta say they put on one heck of an opening ceremony!  It was neat to hear all the underdog stories and see people (like the 14 year old British diver- so cute!) who are so excited just to be there (since they have no real chance of winning a medal.)  But the thing that stuck out most to me was the commentary on the lone Afghani woman who was supposed to be there.  Apparently because of death threats on her life from fundamentalists, she disappeared recently and is seeking asylum in Norway.  That makes me sad on multiple levels.

I don't know what else to say about that, so on a more superficial note, the second thing that sticks out to me is how many countries I've never heard of and how varied the fashion is in the world.  I liked the classic Brits, and French, quadrennial favorites (I'd say perennial but it's every four years) and the Kazakhs rocking the turquoise and orange, fave colors of mine.  Here's to great competition and drama over the next few weeks (and to clean air in China, and female Chinese babies, and stopping human traficking and media censorship, freeing Tibet, and saving Darfur, etc.)

Being a Prophet Sucks, or, 'anyone got a bullet proof vest I can borrow?'

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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.