On Inspiration

Today, as is Christmas tradition in my family, I went to see a movie.  Les Miserables reminded me of something with the music.  The singing! Oh the songs! They compelled me to sing, to make my world known through the magic of song. I am inspired to sing along to their stories, to use music in ways that make others want to join my song.

There is a blogger whom I follow named Preston Yancey.  He's doing pretty well for himself as a blogger, and has a couple books in the works.  But the way he writes, it inspires me to write.  To weave words together in a way that so clearly and delicately express the ideas which I am trying to convey.  To not sound like a bumbling idiot who doesn't quite know what she thinks or feels about anything. And though I never feel as though I measure up, I continue to write, in hopes, that maybe my words resonate with a solitary reader who perhaps feels something. empowered, inspired, not alone


Sometimes, also, I am inspired to dance! Most frequently this happens in the summer while watching So You Think You Can Dance!  They are so seriously talented people.  When I finish watching each episode I just want to get up and this one particular dance move, that I think might also be a figure skating move.  I jump up into the air, feet together.  Then I do a 180 degree turn, and extend my right leg behind me.  I imagine myself looking graceful and majestic.  In reality, I am sure that I look awkward and cause people to laugh as they shake their heads at my daring, though inaccurate, execution of what that move should look like. And while rarely do I dance for a reason other than laughter, still with that dancing I hope other will join with me in laughing at the silly, ridiculous things we can be.

Still further, a good piece of philosophy inspires me to philosophize.  I was recently given a book full of philosophy.  I haven't read much of it yet, but when I firsts received it, I turned to a random page, read a few paragraphs and then proceeded to explain what I'd just read to everyone else in the room. They are not quite as keen on philosophy as I am. But I desperately wanted to share what I had learned, to inspired their minds to think deeply about what it means to think.  Those few paragraphs inspired my mind to the point where I could not help but join in, and I wanted others to come along on the journey with me.

Inspiration is an elusive, and mysterious thing.  There is so much in the world that inspires us, and yet artists so often cannot find it when they seek.  We cannot attempt to be an inspiration with any level of success either, for what we deem worthy or unworthy as such is rather the opposite to those who find it.  We cannot suppose to know what or how another might be inspired. To create. To join. To love.

Mind Overload {matul}

So, it's been awhile again guys.  I know.  Sorry about that.  This new life has been a bit more consuming than I anticipated.  Classes, homework, new friends, old friends, engaging the community.  Its more than full time work.

But I wanted to clue you in a little on what I'm learning and what's going on in my head.

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So, we talk an awful lot about the Kingdom of God in our program.  Mostly about how the Kingdom has to with so much more than just the spiritual dimension of our lives (like most American's see it) but has to do with economics, politics, and every aspect of life, personal and civic.  We can't relegate the kingdom just to our souls.  God wants to do so much more in the world than save souls.  He wants to bring abundant life to all in everything!!

It's weird though, because I find that I still use the same vocabulary that I did before, but the words have completely altered definitions now.  While each word still means what it used to mean, it also means SO much more.  Sermons on Sunday's now have a totally different dimension to them.  I feel like I'm finally starting to understand the Bible in it's entirety.

But then sometimes I also wonder if this program is over correcting.  Are we focusing too much on the economic and social justice aspects of the word of God because we have neglected it for so long? I don't know the answer to that.  And we aren't dismissing the spiritual aspects of it; in fact, it's a key element.  But sometimes I feel a little bit crazy, because no one else seems to understand these new definitions (except for my classmates, haha).

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Another thing that's been on my mind lately is how I don't have a concise way of explaining why I'm in this program.  Why I'm moving abroad to live among the poor for two years. Really, the only simple way I have of explaining it is that God called me there, so I have to go.  But that doesn't make sense, it doesn't resonate with people. As people ask me about the program, I want to have a way to answer that doesn't feel so rehearsed and like an advertisement for the program.  Not that I don't love it, but whenever I answer it, I just don't feel genuine.  But my authentic answer would probably take an hour, and nobody really wants to listen to me talk for that long.

We've been talking recently about the way that many of the people of the bible were so moved by what they saw that they responded emotionally.  They wept, fasted, wore sackcloth and put ashes on their head.  I'm realizing that nothing has ever moved me so dramatically. My passions rarely flow that deep. While injustice hurts my heart, it doesn't move me to tears.

Part of me wonders if it's me not wanting to make any waves with people.  I don't want to offend their understanding of the world, so I don't proclaim God's truth with any sort of authority.  I generally try to understand the point of view that everyone is coming from. But at what point, I wonder, does that become a problem?

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We talk A LOT about fundraising.  Or, at least it feels like we talk about it a lot. And it's a good thing we do.  Because my temptation is to just pay for everything with loans and not let anyone help me, not even God.  But that's not what God has asked me to do.  Having decided on going to Brazil, that means living expenses will be more than I had anticipated.  Which means, if I'm really doing this fundraising thing, I have to raise more money.  

But more importantly, I have to garner prayer supporters. I know this sounds weird.  Of course people will pray for you.  See, though, I still seem to have this issue with asking people to care about me.  I haven't quite figured out the root of it (let's be honest, it's some combination of not trusting God to raise a support around me and feelings of worthlessnes mixed together....I just don't want to admit it), but I'm working on naming the issue so I can deal with it head on. But I've had some pretty fun ideas that I just have to do something about.  It's that doing part that I often seem to have trouble with. 

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Next week is the official middle of the semester.  It's crazy how fast this is all going by.  But I finally feel like I'm doing something.  My mind has transitioned from wanting clarity about all the little details to feeling ready to get started on some of the bigger projects.  The project that involves working with a local church has finally started to take off and become something.  Most of the time I would rather be doing research on Brazil than any other kind of homework.  

But I've realized that my personal excitement about these things has caused me to pray about them less.  Which is super no bueno.  But at least I realize that, so I can attempt to be more intentional about praying more often. 

Sorry for the crazy fast update, but there was just too much going on in my head that I wanted to share. 

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The Hollywood Life

So, it's been awhile since I last wrote. So much has happened! Classes started, glimpses of rhythm have appeared in my new life, new friends have been made, hikes have been ventured.  It's been fun.  But I'm not going to share any of those things with you tonight.  I'm going to give you a glimpse into the absurdity of what happens when you live in Hollywood and are studying Transformational Urban Leadership.

Story 1 - Confirmation:
Sundays can often be very long days for me when I am serving.  I do set up before first service.  Help out at the info tent during second service.  And finally actually attend third service.  The break during second and third is longer, and I had some time where I was planning on doing some reading for school.  Oh, but that wasn't going to happen. I made a new friend at church while I was sitting at the info tent.  His name is Benjamin, and he is from the Congo (cool points: 1).  He is studying to go to law school.  He came over to where I was sitting and asked what I was doing.  When I told him I was doing homework, we got to discussing what I was in school for.  After telling him it was in missions/development work among the urban poor, he had SO many stories and words of wisdom.  I found out that he has worked for World Vision and the UNHCR (UN program that addresses the needs of refugees) in both Kenya and Mozambique (cool points: 5).  His work was primarily as a translator because he knows Swahili, English, Portuguese, and French (cool points: 9).  The gist of his stories and wisdom is this: any development work that happens, the ideas must come from the people, they cannot be imposed on them (cool points: 15). It's like he'd already taken all the classes I'm taking! This is one of the huge major points the want us to get through our heads. 

Story 2 - Coincidence:

I went to an improve show late Sunday night with some friends from church.  It was really funny.  But that's beside the point.  Shortly after getting to our seats, the girl behind me taps me on my shoulder and asks, "Are you Kimberly Farnham?" Totally freaked out, I did not respond with all the various things going through my head, like, "Are you psychic?" "How in the world do you know my name?" , or " That's weird.  Are you a stalker?".  Instead I just said yes and asked who she was.  Turns out she is one of my sister's friends from elementary/jr.high/high school.  Her brother, who also happened to be sitting right next to her, was in my fifth grade class...IN HAWAII!  Talk about small world. Crazy the things that happen and the people you run into. 

Story 3 - Crazy:

Took the metro into Pasadena on Monday night for community group. It's a normal in my life; I really like the train. Shortly after getting off, a nice guys asks us if we are going to the "thing" on El Malino.  (Never got more than that much info from him.)  We weren't, so we said no.  He asked us if we were sure, and we were.  We crossed the street and continued on our way.  Later that evening, after getting off the train in Hollywood, we cross paths with this same guy! In Hollywood, on the same night! He totally recognizes us and we stop to chat.  We couldn't quite figure this guy out.  He said he was representing his buddy (who was on the phone) as a voice over actor and they'd just finished a seminar. So crazy. 

These are just a few of things that happen when you live in Hollywood. 

Conversations With Ourselves

Conversations with Ourselves is a series of posts on Preston Yancey's blog in which the author addresses the Past Self through the Present or vice versa (or sometimes totally not this, but something equally cool) concerning matters of Faith, specifically. 

Today I take part in this exploration, and remind myself of a few things I seem to have forgotten.

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I'm visiting my parents, back home for a month before I start the life after college. I have no idea what I'm going to do with my life. I don't even know if I'll have a job when I go back to LA.  But here I am, sitting on my favorite beach in my favorite place, trying desperately to think of nothing other than the sound of the crashing waves.

I barely even notice her as she walks up and sits beside me. Slightly startled, I turn to look at her.  It's almost  like looking in a mirror.  I haven't changed much since I was seventeen, at least not how I look.

We chat for bit as we look out at ocean and watch the beach goers who pass by.  She reminds me of the fresh heart ache of breaking up with Noah. The insecurity of not feeling as smart as everyone else in my AP classes. The hope of what God did in my heart while I was in Mexico for the fourth time.

I have so much I want to let her in on.  Of the laughter and silliness she loves and will continue to love.  Of Justin Beiber, Twilight, and High School Musical.  Of friends that I adore, don't understand, and cherish, all at the same time. Of kindred spirits and those I never really get to know and yet always feel compelled to pray for.  I also share with her the adventures I have in my heart.  Of mystery and wonder and world change. The ones I'm too scared to share with anyone else.  The fear of failure that keeps me where I'm comfortable, where I know hows to succeed.

"Do you remember how joyful you used to be?" she asks me softly.  She has a way of doing this, of asking the hardest questions in a truly humble, honest manner. It catches me off guard; we weren't even talking about joy.

"Sure.  I guess.  I mean, I remember the laughter, the way nothing ever really seemed to phase me.  I'm still that way."  I say defensively.  I'm still joyful.  I still know that the Lord is my joy, my salvation.

"It's true. You don't let things phase you, and you still laugh a lot. I can't wait to meet some these friends you keep talking about.  But it's not always joyful anymore.  You just seem so different know.  Distant, like you aren't really taking anything that other people say as valuable.  And that's why it doesn't phase you."

I sit in utter silence, stunned that she could understand so deeply what hasn't even happened to her yet.  I just stare at her.  For what feels like forever.  She's starting to get uncomfortable, I can tell. It's that nervous smile, shift in her seat, look away that I still do.

"And you used to be so giving."   Shock.  Almost anger.  I'm sure it's flashing across my face right now. "No, no.  Not that you aren't giving now. You are definitely still generous.  But it's different. It just seems like you give more out of principle, and not out of," she pauses, searching for the right words, "true desire, I guess. It's like you help because you should, not always because you want to."

How could this seventeen year old me know so much more than I do? Aren't I her? But six years better? I don't know quite how to respond to any of this. And she can tell I need time to process.  We've always been one to process later, on our own. She stands up.  "Sorry," she says, knowing that she wants to pray for me, but doesn't yet have the courage to ask such things. I just look up at her, mouth slightly open, trying to form a response.

But there is none.  As she walks away, I turn back to the ocean I've looked at so many times.  How could I have forgotten so much? And then I realize something. It's not that I've forgotten joy or generosity.  I've learned and studied about them for four years now.  I've lost sincerity of practice.  I've become so intent on being joyful and generous that they stopped being real in my life.  And she saw right through it all in one conversation.

I can't unlearn all of the philosophical and theological arguments about why those things are good.  But how do I get back the true desire of heart to be joyful and generous?  How do I have heart and head united in acts of joy and generosity?  I will have to take these things before the cross, before my Jesus who loves me when I don't have it all together and I do things wrongly.  But other than that I don't know.
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If you like this blog be sure to check out seeprestonblog.com, this series publishes every Thursday.

An Enemy Bigger Than My Apathy

If only I had an enemy bigger than my apathy I would've won.

Oh Mumford, your lyrics are so wonderful. I was listening to I Gave You All the other day on my way home from work, and was struck by this line.

I think I have a tendency towards apathy. I know, you're shocked, what with my plan to move somewhere around the world to fight poverty. But it's true. Let me explain.

I absolutely love completing things, finishing,being able to say something is done. The evil in the world today, things like poverty, slavery, oppression, you can't really finish fighting them.  We can have major achievements in combating them, but the corruption of the human soul keeps us from ever really being rid of them. My temptation is not to get involved in something so big and awful, something I know I can't defeat.  And to make matters worse, there are so many awful things to think about.  I know a lot of them are connected in many ways, but even if we end poverty, there will still be oppression and slavery. Sure, they might be less, but they won't be gone.

This tendency towards apathy is most definitely a product of the information age. Back in the Downton Abbey days and before, they didn't really know about all this social injustice.  Sure, they saw the occasional poor person, but mass oppression by their government on people in other countries, pretty much unknown.  They were ignorant of so much simply because of the S-L-O-W speed that information traveled at.  With everything at the tips of our fingers, we learn about all the problems.

But really, all of these awful things in the world are HUGE!  Is our apathy really so great that such horrendous evil doesn't even move us to action.   I guess the real kicker is that these enemies very rarely affect us directly.  We can live our lives without having to think about the way other people live and the oppression or corruption that helped put them there.  So really, maybe, our enemy is just our selfishness, the me-centered life we celebrate here in the West.

I know so many things I do in my life are about making myself more comfortable.  Making things easier for myself. Most of the time I don't help homeless people simply because I don't like talking to strangers (Ask any of my friends, I don't like strangers, no matter who they are.  Even though I argue with them and just say that my mother taught me well.)  And I don't get involved in rallies and movements because they inconvenience my life, take me out of my routine. (Seriously though, I love my routine, its what gets me through most days.  Again, the friends can vouch for this.)  I'm so unwilling to make myself uncomfortable in the little ways, even for the sake of another, even to combat or raise awareness for things like poverty and trafficking.  Like so many in my generation, I want to feel like clicking a button is enough.  Don't get me wrong, clicking a button is still a good and helpful thing.  But are all those clicks really going to get much done?  Maybe it's time we start realizing the necessity of being uncomfortable sometimes.

What do you think causes our apathy??

Trumpet Sound {matul}

So, as much as putting this out there scares the begeeses out of me, I really need to do it.

It is looking more and more like my heart wants me to go to Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.

I know what you are thinking.  You are all taking note so that if it ends up I'm wrong, and this isn't where God sends me, you'll be able to judge me.
     Okay, so maybe that's not what you're thinking.  But it's what I'm terrified you'll think.  As my wonderfully wise friend Lauren reminded me on Monday, it's not what anyone who loves me would think.  If I end up going somewhere else, you will all, likely, be overjoyed that I heard from God and am willing to go somewhere I hadn't anticipated.

But, back to Rio.  I know you are probably wondering why.  There really isn't a good answer.  But it's the location that simply won't go away.  For a long time I've been cycling through the different program sites, imagining (probably horribly inaccurately) what it would be like to move to each city.  I'd daydream for a week and then move on, forgetting about each city when I'd move to the next.  Rio is the one that won't go away.  That I can't forget.  I'm thinking it might be God prompting my heart.  But I don't know.  There haven't been any trumpets or signs or writing in the sky like I keep hoping for.  So this is what I'm going with.  For now.

What I really want, what I desperately need is for you all to pray with me on this.  I want so desperately to be where God is calling me, that I'm becoming fearful of making a choice.  I don't want fear to paralyze me.  But I also don't want to find my security in "I don't know where I'm going" each time someone asks where I'm headed come January.

So I'm asking you to pray.  Pray that I continue to be open to the Spirit's leading.  Pray that God is preparing me for the work he has already prepared for me to do.  Pray for Rio de Janeiro, that the people of God there would seek after him more, would prioritize making his name known in their city.

Finally, I can't think about going to Brazil without thinking about so many people from my church back home in Maui. There is a thriving community of Brazillians in Maui.  Those I know are AMAZING people who love God so much.  Then there is the fact that my church back home has sent so many teams to Southern Brazil, ministering alongside the local churches in Estrella. Also, Christen, who spent almost 3 years there and loves that country more than a lot things.  And finally, my friend Vini, who is from Brazil, lives there now, and loves Jesus so much.  For those of you who already love the country, thank you! Pray with me and for me as I attempt to be faithful to what God has placed before me.

(Here are some maps to help you get a sense of location.  They starts out general and gets more specific.)

 

the UNEXPECTED

It's crazy how things work out sometimes.
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I'm moving tomorrow.  So much work goes into moving.  And even more when you have zero ability to transport any of your own things because you don't have a car.  And even more work when your things have to go to four different locations and you are trying to coordinate selling your furniture to individuals.

But that's all not as stressful as the email I got two weeks ago telling me I couldn't move into the place I thought I would be moving into on Aug 1st. 7 It wasn't actually available until Aug 27th.  This was after five days of uncertainty about whether or not I could move in on Aug 1st.

      this means I have to find a place to stay for 26 days
             this means I have to find a place for all my stuff for 26 days
                     this means I have to ask more things of more people.  oh joy.

Well, it turns out God had it all worked out.  The day I found out I couldn't move in until the 27th, a friend offered her garage for all of my things.  A coworker, hearing about my uncertainty, told me to "let her know" if I ended up needing a place to stay for a few weeks.  The day after I found out, I told her, and she offered to let me stay with her family.
           The brilliance of this situation is that her family lives in Pasadena.  Most
           of my community and friends that are willing to help me out also live in
           Pasadena.  So now, for three weeks, I get to continue working (Yay!)
           and I will be close to so many people I love!

This plan (read: God's plan) sounds a whole lot better than my plan.  I was moving to a city where I knew few people, 2 metro trains away from my community, and without a job.

And now, I've managed to find a way to move all of my things and homes for all of my furniture.

God's plan rocks.

Learning Dependence

A week ago I picked up friends from the airport who had been out of town.  They were gracious enough to let me use their car while they were gone. (For those of you who are unaware, I do not have a car.)  I absolutely LOVED the time of freedom/independence/blessing that it brought.  I decided to reflect on the difference the car had made on my life during the previous two weeks.  Here's what I realized.

• We don't really need to go all of the places we find ourselves going.  
• The ability to go somewhere made me feel like I had to go and do everything that popped into my mind. (I felt a little trapped by self-inflicted obligation to "take advantage of the opportunity" to be free).
• Being alone while driving, singing at the top of my lungs to whatever I feel like listening too is quite possibly one of my favorite things. (Although, I'm  not a fan of the actual driving part. Just the ability to sing while driving part.)
• I found myself feeling much more isolated.
• I know this may sound strange, but hear me out. My dependence on other people to take me most places means that I spend more time with people in an enclosed space for a good amount of time.  Conversations happen, whether you want them too or not. I ended up feeling disconnected from those who usually gave me rides. 

While I wouldn't quite say I truly enjoy not having a car, I've definitely come to a pretty radical realization.  Dependence on other people is a good thing. I know. Life changing, right? But if I'm being really honest with myself, isn't that the way Jesus wanted his church to be? I'd say that's a pretty good modern understanding of "they had everything in common."

And really, I need to start believing that dependence is a good thing.  Really believing it.  That the church was designed that way. Because pretty soon I'm going to need to be dependent on far more people than I currently am.  As much as desperately don't want too, I am going to need to ask people to financially support me while I am abroad.  The thought of it makes me cringe. I hate asking people for things, even after of year of no car.  And I especially hate asking people for money. Ugh, the thought causes me to make an ugly face. But really, if I really believe that this program, being a missionary intern for two years, is what God wants me to do, I should really let him do it. Because ultimately, being dependent on other people in the church is really being dependent on God. (Not all the time, I get it....but in this case it is.)

In The Beginning: {matul}

So...here's the thing.

I'm starting a Master's program in the Fall.  It's in Transformational Urban Leadership.  Which is kind of vague.  It's really in wholistic development among the urban poor.  Social, political, economic, and spiritual development.  

I've said that so many times in the last six months that it barely has meaning anymore. But it's true.  In September I will be in school again.  Studying the realities of poverty and my part in alleviating it.  (But that doesn't even really explain it.  I don't know how to explain it in a way that really gets at the heart of why I chose this program.  It's bound to be a bunch of ramblings about shalom and justice & righteousness. Nothing that a normal person could follow...only my heart. Maybe I'll try one day. :-/)  I'm going to be a missionary intern.  Living and learning in community so unlike what I am accustomed to.

But...here's the thing...really.  I have to start a blog about it.  I have to.  It's kind of like a missionary requirement.  But I don't want to start a new blog.  I don't like starting things that can't really be finished, like a blog. You can't really finish one.  You just stop using it.  So, I've decided to just put it here.  This blog has always just been about my life, my journey, and it will continue to be.  But my journey is going to be...well...different, VERY different.  And soon.

Okay...time to get down to the good stuff. Or rather, the "mature" missionary stuff.

The program consists of a semester in downtown LA, followed by two years abroad in an urban slum.  While abroad, all our classes are administered online.  We will be working with local churches and ministries while there in ways that specific to the locations needs. You can visit www.matul.org for more info. 


As I'm sure there will be many logistical questions, here are the answers to the predictable ones:

• I am moving to Hollywood on August 1st.  I will be living in Hollywood Presbyterian's missionary housing for very cheap rent considering it's Hollywood. 
• It's only about a mile from where I go to church every Sunday at Reality LA. 
• Classes start September 5th, at APU's LA Regional Center.
• There is a kick-off celebration thing-a-ma-jig on September 7th that family and friends are welcome to come to.  I don't have any details right now, but if you would like to come, let me know and I will get details for you. 
• I don't know yet where I will be spending my two years abroad. A definitive answer will be available sometime in September, I'm hoping.  
• Right now I am leaning towards Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.  But don't hold me to that.  God hasn't made this part of my journey clear so I'm kind of like a lost puppy looking for their home. 

What I really, REALLY desperately want from you is prayer.  And I know this probably sounds predictable, and maybe even a little fake, but it's true.  If I've learned anything these last six months it's that this program isn't about what I can do, or where I would like to go, but about God.  Making him known, glorifying him as best as I possibly can even though I'm screwed up, prideful, and inaccurately defined.  So pray for me. Pray that I would be confident in what God has called me too. (I've struggled a lot these last few months with feelings of inadequacy in the call.  But I'm learning that I will always be inadequate in my own strength.  It will always be about what God does through me, which can be all things!)  That I would trust God's guidance with where I will end up, and what kind of work I will be doing.  (This might be trust that it's my choice, or to really grab on to a specific location he has in mind for me.) And finally, for relationships, the ones I'm leaving behind and the new ones I will form. (I'm already starting to feel the distance between friends and I as I continue to prepare my heart and soul for these years abroad.) 

Whew....that was tough. I'm glad it's over. If you need any more grown up info, let me know. :)

I never get to the point.

**Warning:  This blog meanders and completely misses the original point I intended to make.  Oh well. 

It's been nearly a month since I last wrote anything.  I'm gonna be honest.  I think the problem is that I read to many blogs.  My Google Reader keeps tabs on 33 different blogs for me.  I couldn't actually remember to check on that many blogs, so I have to enlist programs to do it for me.  And most of those blogs are written by fabulous writers.  Some of them write pretty much everyday. Others write about every other month.  Haha!  But what they write is always worth reading (at least in my opinion).

What I'm starting to notice though is that they are really contemplative people.  They are constantly examining EVERYTHING in their lives.  Why they have so many books.  What their child's random comment taught them about God.  How the purely and utterly mundane is beautiful in their eyes.  And that's great for them.  But my mind just doesn't work that way.

Another trend in the blog-o-sphere is writing about how ordinary people change the world.  And yet, the irony of it all, is that I wouldn't consider any of these people ordinary.  Many of them have authoritative voices on whatever they study.  That's not common, not ordinary at all.  Several of them are writing books.  Again, not ordinary.

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I'm not a writer. 

I'm not a storyteller. 

I'm not a savvy business-minded individual. 

I'm not a natural born leader. 

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What I am is much different.  I am not the kind of person that normally has a blog, or that people want to keep tabs on.  My life really isn't that interesting.  (Although I'm sure some would say it's about to be, come August).  I don't have any hobbies really.  I like all the things everyone says they like.  Like most in my generation, I'm passionate about social justice but am mostly unwilling to do anything about it except click a few buttons online showing my support of some new cause.

My only real defining characteristic is the God that guides my life.  And I know that there are more than a few others out there that serve the same God as I do.  But in my mind he is the only thing worth being defined by.  And even though he's called more than a few others to the work of social justice in the world, his call on my life is still all that can define me.  And while I still have yet to take any steps (unless of course you count enrolling in a Master's program that hasn't actually started yet) toward doing the things he has made me passionate about, here is a list of what they are.

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I am passionate about discipleship.

I am passionate about the image of God in each person. 

.....about Shalom, and what that means for all the people of the earth. 

.....about studying the word of God so that we might know his character better, not so that we have a list of right and wrong. 

....about vulnerability and being completely who you are in every situation

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the big picture

So, I've been struggling a lot lately with where God has called me.  About a month ago I was in a place that left me feeling completely incapable of helping the urban poor. I have no practical skills to help people in poverty.  None.  And that really unsettled me. I wanted to go abroad knowing that I had something tangible to offer.  But I don't.  I was afraid of failing to help the urban poor.  After several weeks of wrestling with God, I realized what I do have to offer....Jesus. Duh.  That is more valuable than anything else I could possibly bring to the fight to establish kingdom shalom among the urban poor.

As soon as I got that figured out, I got hit with another train wreck. You see this past year has been one of new friendships that have brought me true community.  I've gotten really connected my church body, and I've realized how much I love them all.  I thought to myself, "Why do want to leave a place that already fulfills you and brings you life?"  I've been struggling with this for a few weeks now. And then I figured out what was really going on inside me.  I was afraid of being alone. Of losing all the intimate relationships I'd formed.  Of not having people around me who I trusted with the deepest things in my heart, and who knew exactly how to encourage me. I was afraid of only having Jesus to be intimate with. But again...God has spoken to me in the midst of my fear. He has said, over and over again, "Be with me."  Just be.  To come to him and just sit in his presence, without an agenda, not looking for answers, but simply to delight in his presence. To have that be enough.

A couple months ago I heard a phrase that kind of characterizes this process I've been going through.

You can't steer a ship that's not moving.

Two months ago, before I was accepted to this Master's program, I wouldn't have been able to tell you that these were things I was afraid of. I thought I had dealt with them years ago, had them all figured out and wrapped up in pretty packages.  But once I really started moving towards what God had laid out before me, I realized just how incapable and afraid I am; how much this plan isn't about or because of me...but entirely about and because of who God is. 

the picture that is bigger than my fears is God and his plan. I'm just a minuscule part of how he's accomplishing his plan.  

Easter Musings

It's Easter weekend.  This is the day that Christ laid dead in a tomb in Jerusalem.  Some Bible scholars will say he descended into hell on this day to share the good news with those who were there.  I'm not really sure what I think about that, but the idea always intrigues me. 

To be honest, I really dislike holidays.  Not so much the meaning of the holidays, but how we celebrate them.  We don't make them holy days.  What we end up celebrating and setting apart is always ourselves.  We get a day off to relax, to do things that are good for ourselves.  What we do with religious holidays especially bothers me.  

This year, though, I'm slightly less offended by Easter.  I think it has something to do with being a part of a body that does Easter in a way that makes sense to me.  It's not about family.  It's not about a meal.  It's not just an opportunity to have a big event of a Sunday service.  It's about the Cross.  It's about all that Jesus' life, death, and resurrection means for humanity. 

They've set the day apart by praying for it like I've never seen a body do before. By realizing the magnitude of what was accomplished on that day and knowing that the plans they have are truly the plans God has for them. Having prayed more for this Easter than I have ever prayed for any other Easter in my life, I'm so excited and invested in what will happen, not just at my church, but at churches throughout the city and around the world.  

Prayer really does change my heart.  It makes me love better.  It gives me God's eyes for the person/situation/event.  I'm convinced it touches the way things happens and truly affects the world.

So this Easter, I will celebrate it. Without cynicism and pride. Covered in prayer. Convinced and humbled by the work done on the cross (that I all too often forget the importance of). 

stories

Lately, I've been feeling the need to tell stories.  But I don't want to.  Because...well, I don't really know how.  I agonized over every creative writing assignment I was ever given.  I think I even had my sister write a short story for me once because I just couldn't do it. 

But stories are important.  

They are what move people. Inspire people. Connect people.  It's how has revealed himself to me.  The Bible is a collection of stories that tell a greater story.  I can spend hours in a novel.  I watch endless amounts of television programming because I want to know what happens.  I ask people far to personal of questions because I want to know their story, the one they don't tell very often because they are afraid of what they've buried, what they don't realize affected them.  

I love stories.  But I'm terrified of being the storyteller.  

I've never thought my words were good enough.  I'm always worried about being accurate.  I either get too wrapped up in the details or too far gone in the big picture.  

But I will try.  Because the need/desire/yearning/obligation I feel to tell them...I don't think it's my own.  I think it's a part of something God is doing in me, or will do in me.  I can think of no other reason for it to have appeared.  I settled a long time ago with not being good at it.  I always figured someone else could tell the stories, and I could read/watch/hear them.  I was good at other things.  Like math.  And organizing.  And theology. 

but now i will learn to tell stories.  bear with me, as this will definitely be a process. 

Sacrifice What Surrounds You - WV:A

This was the challenge World Vision ACT:S issued this last week.  I had a few ideas about redecorating my room, hanging different pictures, using different desktop backgrounds and facebook photos, and watching different things online (I normally watch WAY too much television in one week).  But this week has been more different than any I've had in a while.

Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday were so full I couldn't do anything outside of what was planned.  I woke up early, I went to work, got home and went straight to whatever was planned, came home late, and went to bed. I was beat.  Wednesday I had to come home from work and packed for a trip I was taking to Nashville, TN.  How was I to sacrifice what surrounded me?  I had no time, and little personal space to change.

But I did change something.  I physically am in a completely new place.  I am meeting lots and lots of law students. They keep asking me what I do, what my plan is.  And when I don't bring it up, my friend does it for me.  It's forcing me to speak about my passion with people, many of whom don't love Jesus like I do. And it seems weird to them that I want to spend loans to, as they put it, "help poor people not be poor."

This requirement to talk about my future plans is nerve racking.  I've come to realize how close to my heart people in urban poor communities are.  America tends to severely misunderstand them and their situation.  When I talk to people about it I'm so afraid that they are going to tell me that it's a waste of time, or not believe my passion, that somehow they are going to taint it.

Meeting new people, in a new place, has forced me to remember what God has called me too.  So even though I didn't plan on this as my sacrifice this week, God used it his way.  A way that is so much better.

What are you willing to Sacrifice - WV:A

You've probably heard of World Vision. They have a pretty well known child sponsorship program.  There is a section of the company called World Vision ACT:S that focuses on calling high school and college aged folk to act in the name of biblical justice.  I really like them (my friends Sam works there, which makes them even cooler).  They always do something for Lent.  Instead of simply giving up something, they call people to sacrifice with a purpose.  

On Ash Wednesday, they asked the questions, "What does it mean to sacrifice?" and "What are you willing to sacrifice?"  I know I'm a little late, but here are my thoughts on the issue of Sacrifice.

Sacrifice:  giving up something of value in order to receive/allow for something of greater value.

I stopped to think about my practice of lent this year (adding the BCP to my devotional life) in light of sacrifice and what thing of greater value I was allowing for.  I realized that I'm giving up part of my free will.  

Just as God gives up part of his sovereignty (the right to do whatever he wants when he wants) to allow for human free will and action, so I have decided to give up a part of that free will to allow space for more of God's revelation.*  I've been a part of a non-denominational church for my entire life.  We value our free will more than a lot of other things.  And it's great, I love being able to worship and interact with Jesus how I want to.  But part of me has always been curious about what that tradition stuff is all about. So, I decided to give up that freedom to approach Jesus however I want, to participate in tradition, approaching him as the body has for centuries.  It is my intention to give God back a piece of his sovereignty in my life.  And when God reigns, we are promised that Justice and Righteousness come.  That Compassion and Mercy are present.  

God's Sovereighty. Justice and Righteousness.  Compassion and Mercy.  These are things of greater value than my free will, than my ability to approach God however I please.  And maybe, just maybe, during this season of sacrificing myself for the sake of God's reign, I might find my life characterized by the things of God.

*I know there are about a thousand theological points you could argue with me about why I'm wrong and not interpreting the Bible correctly. Please don't, that is not he point of this post.  

the beautiful, mangled church

About a month ago I started following a new blog (seeprestonblog.com) which held a series of guest posts called "At The Lord's Table" about the beautiful mangled church.  I loved the series and wanted desperately to join, but couldn't think of a topic worth writing about, that wasn't something already said and expounded upon.

Today I realized what to add to the conversation: how I live everyday in the tension of that beautiful, mangled mess of a church. 

Before college, I couldn't have told you there was a Calendar the church operated on outside of, you know, the normal calendar everyone uses.  In college though, I learned about two seasons in the church, Advent and Lent.  I didn't really get Advent, but Lent I somewhat understood.  

As Ash Wednesday approached this year, I began thinking about what I might give up, what I would sacrifice to help me remember my dependence on God.  Throughout the series on Preston's blog, I read A LOT from people who are members of what would be called High Church (that which is filled with tradition and liturgy).  It got me thinking about that liturgy, specifically the Book of Common Prayer.  Now, before a few days ago, I had never seen one of these and couldn't tell you how it worked if my life depended on it.  But I decided that as a part of Lent I would give up the free, completely unstructured way in which I usually approach God.  I was going to add the Book of Common Prayer (BCP) to my daily routine.

Side Note: Finding a copy of the BCP to buy was near impossible where I live.  I called Christian bookstores, APU's bookstore, my local Barne's & Noble, and finally the closest Episcopal church.  The nearest copy for purchase was in downtown LA, about 50 miles from where I live.  I think the West Coast is somewhat allergic to liturgy. 

Figuring out how to use this book was the most challenging thing I've ever done!  Okay, that's an exaggeration, but it was still prettty confusing. They use all these words I've never heard before, at least not in the context of prayer and devotion. But I've finally got it, thanks in large part to a VERY helpful blog series.  

And here, reading (and LOVING) the daily office, but planted and growing and cherishing my very free, non-denominational church home, I find myself.  Living in the mess, acknowledging how varied the Christian church is in my own being.  But I think the mess makes it richer.  It breathes a certain type of fullness into me.  I am learning to embrace traditions I didn't know existed while at the same time growing tremendously in an almost charismatic non-denominational church. 

The church is mangled and messy, but it is so beautiful because of that mess!  Christ didn't die so we could all be the same.  He died so we could be in relationship with him, so that our sin wouldn't keep us from his presence.  Varied expression in that relationship makes the body of Christ simply beautiful. 

Creating

Some people are really good with words.  They seem to know exactly what to say, which words to use.  In comparison to those people I usually tend to label myself as “visual” because words don’t ever come that easily to me.

But then there are those people who are really good at pictures.  Who create images that express so much, that validate the saying “A picture is worth a thousand words.” Compared to those people though, I’m not as visual as I sometimes think I am. I cannot create vision like they can. 

And so I find myself in this place.  Where what I create isn’t nearly good enough to be compared with that of a writer or an artist.

For the longest time I would have said that I wasn’t creative.  That I couldn't come up with stories or pictures that were worth anything.  And while I still can’t, I don’t say that anymore.  I know there must be something that I am good at, something that I create that is worth creating.

I am more than my ability to organize and complete administrative tasks.  Unfortunately I don’t know what that more is.  I don’t know what I contribute to the world, to society.  And I may never know.  But I do know that the God who created me did it right.  And that means I am exactly how I am supposed to be.  Even if I don’t get it, and sometimes feel inferior, I am right. 


And even more, I know that he has redeemed me.  That my faulty attempts at creating something worthwhile are made better by him.  That he uses my work to accomplish his purposes.  How crazy.  How insane.  How magnificent.  

Sometimes that is all that I cling to, all I hope in.  That my God loves me and made me this way. And that is good.

(photo credit: laurennicolewrites.com)

Why I Write

Sometimes I wonder why I keep this thing around.  I only seem to write when I don't have ANYTHING else going on.  When I look through my past post I realize that writing here seems to be my way of processing in times of transition, when I can't seem to find any purpose in what I'm doing with my life.  But as soon as I remember....well....buh-bye blogging.

That seems to be my pattern.  If I'm honest with you, that's why I'm returning now.  I'm restless and discontent with the status of my life, here and now.  I'm ready for the future.  Why can't it be now?  I know it's because God has bigger things planned for me that I'm not quite ready, that he is still preparing me for.

I'm going to try to find a way to write more consistently.  I know I probably have the equivalent of three readers (if I don't post this on fb).  So, not many will be impacted by my decision to write more.  But from what I can tell, writing is good for me. You know how some people are verbal processors, and others are all in their own heads.  Well, I think I need to write.  But I don't necessarily need anyone to listen.  In fact, I often don't want opinions.  It's the process of making my thoughts into something cohesive that I benefit from.

The question I ask myself then is, Why do you share them?  Wouldn't you be just as satisfied by keeping a journal that you keep to yourself?  And I suppose I might be; I've never really tried it.  But something tells me that it wouldn't be the same, that I wouldn't feel the need to be cohesive or truthful.  That somehow, the privacy that gives me would actually allow myself to continue in my bubble of safety instead of making me brutally honest with myself.  Here I know that those that read (which, again, isn't many...probably from my lack of consistency) will call me out when I'm lying to myself.  I need to know that someone else, even if it's just one person, will read what I write.  It's like a virtual accountability partner.  :)

This is why I write, why I share my musings, however few and far between they might be, with the rest of the world.  To keep myself honest in my thinking and processing of life.