I am so...overwhelmed by God's provision of older sisters. I can't put my gratitude into words without it being undermined.
You know how everyone has been and will always secretly be in love with their first lifegroup (with few exceptions) whether they acknowledge it or not? I know all our lovebeta freshmen are, and I know that the bond we've created among ourselves goes a long way. Relishing our shared memories in a community where the outpouring of compassion was so purely out of our older brothers and sisters' love for God. Sharing in the knowledge that all three of us lived through something unforgettable, and knowing we can't get it back. Then again, we don't need to. We're carrying it.
I don't know, then, what made me believe all this time that my older lovebeta sisters do not know me well enough to help me. Yeah, I did not talk a lot in that lifegroup. I rarely shared anything personal, I rarely prayed out loud, and I rarely participated all that much in our bizarre conversations. But through it all, they drowned me in their grace and wisdom, and they pulled confessions out of me the way Jesus caught hundreds of fish without even laying a finger on the net. Lovebeta's been over since then, but their support has only increased all the more.
I say things along the lines of, "You only know the freshman me. You only know what I was like then, and I'm not like that anymore." And I think, I'm more messed up. I'm more confused and useless and scared than I ever was. That's the kind of person I'm like now. Like fear dominates my life. They look at me and laugh. "Tell me again, how much have we been through together?" A lot, I allow. They can relate, and they know what I'm going through. Usually, I can't tolerate when people think that, but with them, I'm absolutely relieved. They may not know exactly what it feels like to me, but, admit it or not, they certainly do know me.
"Love God and everything else will flow from there." This is what I have been learning. Do you know what that means? It means to love Him through the ups and downs, the wide and the narrow, the complicated and the simple. It means to bask in His presence and indulge in it until you're in tears. There is no mold, like I had always believed. There is no definite right, and no definite wrong. There are only possibilities, and God knows them all. He loves you because He gives them all to you and trusts you with them.
1 Timothy 1:12-14, The Lord's Grace to Paul
I thank Christ Jesus our Lord, who has given me strength, that he considered me trustworthy, appointing me to his service. Even though I was once a blasphemer and a persecutor and a violent man, I was shown mercy because I acted in ignorance and unbelief. The grace of our Lord was poured out on me abundantly, along with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus.
No pretense. No fears. Just His love, and everything that flows out of it.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
identity
It's so great to talk to friends who had a mix of both. Life without religious beliefs. Life with them.
We talk about one of the hardest things: how frustrating it is when you're going through a phase of doubt or struggle and you tell a churched older brother or sister and they give you some nice advice or tell you about some relevant bible passage or personal experience. You feel a little better. They nod sympathetically. "I know what you're going through."
And when you listen to them but you're still struggling a week later (sometimes longer, like a year), they just look at you like, "Why is it so damn hard for you to just have faith?" And you feel like the stupidest person in the world. Let me rephrase: the most lost person in their world. Because you are happy to be secular. You feel liberated without all these annoying religious obligations sometimes. You are pro-choice and you support the LGBTQ community. So people look at you like you are crazy. They stare at you and you know they're thinking, That person desperately need God! Mmm...yeah, you must really know what we're going through, don't you?
Then everyone wants to pray for you. Everyone [secretly] pities the fact that you've "fallen away," that you're struggling just because you have lost life's only key to meaning in this universe and you have transitioned back into satan's happy little world. You have been deceived. You are too proud.
Even if this is not really how everyone thinks, that is how they act. So sometimes, I only climb back out because I can't take the pity anymore.
We talk about one of the hardest things: how frustrating it is when you're going through a phase of doubt or struggle and you tell a churched older brother or sister and they give you some nice advice or tell you about some relevant bible passage or personal experience. You feel a little better. They nod sympathetically. "I know what you're going through."
And when you listen to them but you're still struggling a week later (sometimes longer, like a year), they just look at you like, "Why is it so damn hard for you to just have faith?" And you feel like the stupidest person in the world. Let me rephrase: the most lost person in their world. Because you are happy to be secular. You feel liberated without all these annoying religious obligations sometimes. You are pro-choice and you support the LGBTQ community. So people look at you like you are crazy. They stare at you and you know they're thinking, That person desperately need God! Mmm...yeah, you must really know what we're going through, don't you?
Then everyone wants to pray for you. Everyone [secretly] pities the fact that you've "fallen away," that you're struggling just because you have lost life's only key to meaning in this universe and you have transitioned back into satan's happy little world. You have been deceived. You are too proud.
Even if this is not really how everyone thinks, that is how they act. So sometimes, I only climb back out because I can't take the pity anymore.
Friday, March 18, 2011
covering
Sometimes it slips, down, down, down it slides, back home, into the stream. And when you cup your hands and try to scoop it back up, it's different. Always different.
It was where she laid down into at night, when she couldn't sleep in the heat of her bedroom. In instances when she could barely breathe, driplets of water entangling with her hair and blanket restraining her movement like a straitjacket. The air was strong enough to pull her back as she climbed out of bed and vanished slowly, quietly through the sliding back door into the cool darkness of crickets and yellowing grass.
She washed her hair in the river. It was not a very deep river, and the mud would replace her sweat but she didn't mind. She laughed. She stepped on the cold rocks beneath the water and tried to maintain balance. She let her nightgown become wet and splashed the yawning turtles nearby. She tickled the grass until they all laughed with her. She tasted the foxtails and the raw sweet potatoes in her mother's garden. She had conversations with the moon about Maylee, her favorite doll, about going to the beach, about the boys at school, and about her parents' divorce. The moon didn't laugh. About her brother, who was recently hauled off to jail for stealing from their neighbors. And about the first time she saw her father in a long time while at the county police station, and how the event involved him crying harder than she's ever seen a boy cry. But also about how she saw her parents hug that night and wished they would never let go.
Drowsiness would then take over, and she'd tie her hair into a knot, brushing pieces of grass off her legs. She'd make her way back to the house but only get to the porch and close her eyes in rest. In the morning, her mother would wake up and see a young girl, half covered in dried dirt, curled up on a rocking chair, the wind swaying her back and forth. And she would place a hand over the worry lines in her forehead before bringing out a blanket, not the one called a straitjacket but one like protection over the losses in their lives.
It was where she laid down into at night, when she couldn't sleep in the heat of her bedroom. In instances when she could barely breathe, driplets of water entangling with her hair and blanket restraining her movement like a straitjacket. The air was strong enough to pull her back as she climbed out of bed and vanished slowly, quietly through the sliding back door into the cool darkness of crickets and yellowing grass.
She washed her hair in the river. It was not a very deep river, and the mud would replace her sweat but she didn't mind. She laughed. She stepped on the cold rocks beneath the water and tried to maintain balance. She let her nightgown become wet and splashed the yawning turtles nearby. She tickled the grass until they all laughed with her. She tasted the foxtails and the raw sweet potatoes in her mother's garden. She had conversations with the moon about Maylee, her favorite doll, about going to the beach, about the boys at school, and about her parents' divorce. The moon didn't laugh. About her brother, who was recently hauled off to jail for stealing from their neighbors. And about the first time she saw her father in a long time while at the county police station, and how the event involved him crying harder than she's ever seen a boy cry. But also about how she saw her parents hug that night and wished they would never let go.
Drowsiness would then take over, and she'd tie her hair into a knot, brushing pieces of grass off her legs. She'd make her way back to the house but only get to the porch and close her eyes in rest. In the morning, her mother would wake up and see a young girl, half covered in dried dirt, curled up on a rocking chair, the wind swaying her back and forth. And she would place a hand over the worry lines in her forehead before bringing out a blanket, not the one called a straitjacket but one like protection over the losses in their lives.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
reality check
Ironically, I’m taking time out of a lecture for the one class I’m almost failing to write this and wallow in self-pity. Which may or may not come as a surprise, my lack of interest and/or attention in the subject behind the reason why I’m not doing so well in the first place.
One of the questions I’m often asked is, “Don’t you have to study?” Whereas everyone has picked up the art of diligence or at least the practice of spending more than a few hours on their homework and papers since freshman year of college, I have lost it. I’ve patted myself on the back for four years of motivated work in high school and then slipped. I’ve taken pride in the fact that yes, I am certain that I do not idolize studying because I spend about a quarter as much time on it than everyone else does.
Yeah. Definitely something that deserves pride, isn’t it?
My professor is now telling us, “People start to lose their memory retention at around the age of twenty.” And everyone just stares at him. He shrugs. “I’m just saying.” He’s vaguely referring to our midterm results. Simply put: I can’t just skim things anymore. Less rote memorization, more comprehension.
What do I do with all my free time? I talk to people and do crazy things and then I reflect on everything. There is nothing bad with reflection and nothing wrong with thinking, “Oh, God put me in this university so I can experience Him and these things!” But I am pretty sure that there is something definitely wrong if one doesn’t also simultaneously know, “Oh, God put me in this university to pursue a higher education (and more or less succeed in doing so),” which is…usually the more, if not only (for most people), obvious point. We can’t just walk around serving the church and serving people and reading the Bible and praying and reflecting all the time and not fully acknowledge the (at times, secular) reason we are even in college in the first place, not to mention the people who are paying our tuitions and waiting for results. We just can’t. Some intelligent people can do this and still juggle jobs and pass their classes with flying colors. Some people I love ponder that perhaps the college environment may just be a training field and that God really didn’t actually call them to get degrees. But this is not true for everyone, and it is certainly not true for me.
I’m really sad. About what’ll happen in this class, and in future classes if I can’t let everything I just wrote sink in. One brother told me yesterday, “I gotta stop the self pity and get my crap together.” Amen. Can’t say it any better.
One of the questions I’m often asked is, “Don’t you have to study?” Whereas everyone has picked up the art of diligence or at least the practice of spending more than a few hours on their homework and papers since freshman year of college, I have lost it. I’ve patted myself on the back for four years of motivated work in high school and then slipped. I’ve taken pride in the fact that yes, I am certain that I do not idolize studying because I spend about a quarter as much time on it than everyone else does.
Yeah. Definitely something that deserves pride, isn’t it?
My professor is now telling us, “People start to lose their memory retention at around the age of twenty.” And everyone just stares at him. He shrugs. “I’m just saying.” He’s vaguely referring to our midterm results. Simply put: I can’t just skim things anymore. Less rote memorization, more comprehension.
What do I do with all my free time? I talk to people and do crazy things and then I reflect on everything. There is nothing bad with reflection and nothing wrong with thinking, “Oh, God put me in this university so I can experience Him and these things!” But I am pretty sure that there is something definitely wrong if one doesn’t also simultaneously know, “Oh, God put me in this university to pursue a higher education (and more or less succeed in doing so),” which is…usually the more, if not only (for most people), obvious point. We can’t just walk around serving the church and serving people and reading the Bible and praying and reflecting all the time and not fully acknowledge the (at times, secular) reason we are even in college in the first place, not to mention the people who are paying our tuitions and waiting for results. We just can’t. Some intelligent people can do this and still juggle jobs and pass their classes with flying colors. Some people I love ponder that perhaps the college environment may just be a training field and that God really didn’t actually call them to get degrees. But this is not true for everyone, and it is certainly not true for me.
I’m really sad. About what’ll happen in this class, and in future classes if I can’t let everything I just wrote sink in. One brother told me yesterday, “I gotta stop the self pity and get my crap together.” Amen. Can’t say it any better.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
lent
What a vulnerable night yesterday. And tonight.
I don't love God anywhere as much as I thought I did.
Every day for these 40-so days, to pray on a (different) quality of God I am thankful for.
Titus 2:11-15
For the grace of God has appeared that offers salvation to all people. It teaches us to say “No” to ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright and godly lives in this present age, while we wait for the blessed hope—the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ, who gave himself for us to redeem us from all wickedness and to purify for himself a people that are his very own, eager to do what is good.
These, then, are the things you should teach. Encourage and rebuke with all authority. Do not let anyone despise you.
This passage has been on my mind for almost a month now..
Father, I will be faithful.
I don't love God anywhere as much as I thought I did.
Every day for these 40-so days, to pray on a (different) quality of God I am thankful for.
Titus 2:11-15
For the grace of God has appeared that offers salvation to all people. It teaches us to say “No” to ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright and godly lives in this present age, while we wait for the blessed hope—the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ, who gave himself for us to redeem us from all wickedness and to purify for himself a people that are his very own, eager to do what is good.
These, then, are the things you should teach. Encourage and rebuke with all authority. Do not let anyone despise you.
This passage has been on my mind for almost a month now..
Father, I will be faithful.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
spring break
I can't believe I applied for alternative spring break in October. Funny how time flies.
And I never believed up until the Saturday morning I was leaving that I would really be going. I was aware that God wanted me to go but as the date approached, I got more annoyed and doubtful. It had been an exhausting two weeks in school. Selfishly, I wanted my break to be relaxing, and I did not want to spend it working with refugee children 9-6 every day.
But now, what can I say? This break has been one of the most life-changing experiences I've ever had. I really don't know what to say about it. As a team of eight, we went down to Atlanta, Georgia, and it was incredible, refreshing, warm, and so much fun.
I was going to explain one particular thing God really hit me with on this trip but I wrote a song about it instead. Edit: I deleted it. It's hard being (and staying) vulnerable in public ^^'.
All in all, spring break was incredible :). Praise God for my team and all of our crazy adventures! Almost too much to reflect on..
^ With some of the kids at one of the sites we worked at!
And I never believed up until the Saturday morning I was leaving that I would really be going. I was aware that God wanted me to go but as the date approached, I got more annoyed and doubtful. It had been an exhausting two weeks in school. Selfishly, I wanted my break to be relaxing, and I did not want to spend it working with refugee children 9-6 every day.
But now, what can I say? This break has been one of the most life-changing experiences I've ever had. I really don't know what to say about it. As a team of eight, we went down to Atlanta, Georgia, and it was incredible, refreshing, warm, and so much fun.
I was going to explain one particular thing God really hit me with on this trip but I wrote a song about it instead. Edit: I deleted it. It's hard being (and staying) vulnerable in public ^^'.
All in all, spring break was incredible :). Praise God for my team and all of our crazy adventures! Almost too much to reflect on..
^ With some of the kids at one of the sites we worked at!
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