"I am still confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord" (Psalm 27:14).
A few months ago, I was sobbing due to the enormous pressure I felt from people at my church constantly asking me if I had found a job yet (I hadn't). After church service one Sunday, I went up to ask for prayer and explained my situation. "That pressure is not from God," my uncle assured me. I nodded, mopping up my falling tears.
I begged the Lord for instructions and direction--if I should go back to school or look for a specific kind of job, etc. I was so frustrated when I didn't receive a clear-cut response! "Lord, I will do anything for you," I would pray. "Just give me the word."
It was once said to me, "April, jobs don't just fall out of the sky." I think that may be the world's way of thinking, but for me, it's been a different story. I am a pretty hardcore and literal believer of "seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well" (Matthew 6:33). So basically since I've been back from Mexico I've been spending a lot of time seeking the Lord, keeping my eyes open, and believing in his imminent provision.
I've been so hell-bent on taking the stronghold of fear lately (see my last post) that when out of the blue two friends contacted me with two different job opportunities, I had to laugh. Of course, it was God at work on my behalf. I received an offer to interview for one of the positions, and before going to bed one night I prayed, "Lord, is this job a gift from you that I am to receive?" The answer came strong and clear: "Yes." "Hm," I replied, smiling, "Okay." I prayed. "Okay."
So when I went in for the first interview on Thursday and the second interview on Friday, it was so easy and effortless. When you know God is giving you something and it's already yours, you can live with a lot of boldness, peace and rest. Yesterday when I was offered the job it was such a surreal moment of receiving that which the Lord had already promised to me. It was the icing on the cake. After I hung up the phone, all I could say was, "Thank you, Jesus! Wow."
Jobs really do fall out of the sky.
"Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. He chose to give us birth through the word of truth, that we might be a kind of firstfruits of all he created" (James 1:17-18).
Now there is in Jerusalem near the Sheep Gate a pool, which in Aramaic is called Bethesda and which is surrounded by five covered colonnades. Here a great number of disabled people used to lie--the blind, the lame, the paralyzed. One who was there had been an invalid for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and learned that he had been in this condition for a long time, he asked him, "Do you want to get well?"
Whew! What a journey it has been since returning from Mexico in March! In many ways it has felt like wandering in the desert with all of the detours, starts and stops and stumbling along the way. When I came back, I was just so broken, very deeply broken. And all I had was a prophetic word that I'd be "moving in different regions with apostolic teams" and the confirmation from God that "It is time to live into your calling." Other than that, I hadn't a clue what to do! "What does it mean?" I wondered to the Lord.
I won't lie, it was tough showing my face after coming back early from Mexico. What a (perceived) failure! Yikes. I mean, the embarrassment and disgrace I felt having to explain to people again and again that I was 'back-back' and didn't have another job immediately lined up...whew. Truly a cringe-worthy experience. Yet in all of this, God was faithfully moving on my behalf.
The thing about trials is that they expose my need for God. It becomes so clear that I need him BAD. I'm not talking about falling into self-deprecating, self-condemning attitudes of "Oh, I'm worthless" or "Oh, I'm a terrible person." It's so different. It's like, "Man, I am jacked up!!! Jesus, come quickly to help!"
You see, much of my life has been marked by fear. Fear has taken so many different forms in my life, you don't even know. Fear of rejection, fear of physical harm/pain, fear or failure, fear of God's abandonment, fear of God not being real, fear of God's call for me--I mean, talk about a pile-up! I just got used to being in a low-grade fearful state constantly. And there have been significant flare-ups a few times in my life where the fear just presses in and threatens to swallow me whole. It paralyzes me, makes me cry and makes me think, "Okay, wow. This is literally going to end me."
The month leading up to my departure from Mexico was another one of those flare-ups. I was struggling with physical pain in my left knee and it almost did me in. Gosh, I was crying so much!!! I felt awful, just absolutely tormented. I prayed, I read the Bible and just did my best to hold on for dear life.
I struggled with the following thoughts:
The future is dreadful.
'God has called you to suffer, to share in the sufferings of Christ, and suffer you will!!'
Future suffering will destroy, kill and defeat me.
'You will be overcome by pain and all life will be taken from you.'
It is futile to fight against pain and darkness.
'Pain will come back again and again until you are defeated.'
'The assaults will get worse and worse until you're finally completely flattened.'
You will go from weakness to weakness and God will leave you to the wolves to be consumed.
'God will allow you to be crushed and will leave you that way.'
'He will give you pain beyond what you can bear.'
You will not know healing or life on this earth.
'God will continue to allow you to be stripped and beaten and emptied so that you can share fellowship with Christ, so he can keep you close, but you will not experience relief.'
Your experience of pain is a confirmation of God protecting you only partially.
'Would a good God allow you to go through such agony?'
God has tricked and manipulated you into following him. He has taken advantage of you.
'You labor in vain. You suffer in vain.'
God has promised all these good things for you only to lead you to more suffering and pain.'
The cost of following Jesus is not worth the 'rewards,' which you won't receive for years to come anyway.
'Your misery and anguish are way more than what God will give you, either in this life or in the future. And are you even sure you'll receive that which he's promised?'
You draw additional pain and persecution upon yourself my following God.
'You make yourself a target.'
God is a paternalistic, punishing Father.
'He puts you through trials because 'it's for your own good' so you're going to take it and you're going to be thankful for it.'
Is Christ enough?
'You're going to lose everything for his sake. Are you sure you want to do that? What's so great about him that you're willing to give up everything and even be destroyed yourself?'
As you can see, I was just being assaulted and pummeled with lies. Basically put, it was terrible! I was miserable.
But you know, a couple of weeks ago I was driving in the car and began to feel that familiar sensation of fear rising up within me, along with all the familiar fearful thoughts that cause me to get even more agitated. As I was driving, I began to cry. "Help me, Jesus!" I prayed out loud in between sobs.
He did! After that prayer, something switched in me. Instead of being so sorrowful and scared, I started to get mad. I became fed up with being a victim to fear. I became determined to stand up and fight it. I started on the war path to confront fear.
If Jesus were with me in the car that day and had asked me, "April, do you want to get well?" I would have replied, "Yes, I do, *expletive*! *Expletive*! I will not be satisfied until I am!"
So that's where I'm at. I am on the war path to confront fear.
I pursued my enemies and overtook them;
I did not turn back till they were destroyed.
I crushed them so that they could not rise;
they fell beneath my feet.
You armed me with strength for the battle;
you made my adversaries bow at my feet.
You made my enemies turn their backs in flight,
and I destroyed my foes.
-Psalm 18:37-39
Did you know that Jesus has given us everything we need to overcome Satan? He says, "I have given you authority to trample on snakes and scorpions and to overcome all the power of the enemy; nothing will harm you" (Luke 10:19).
Have you seen the movie Pacific Rim? Mako Mori is a woman marked by one terrible, fearful memory from her childhood. It continues to torment her and threatens her future as a jaeger pilot:
Her partner tries to reason with her. "Mako, this is just a memory. None of this is real." Can you relate to her continued terror at the memory despite others speaking the truth? I can.
But Mako's story doesn't end there. She is called to face the same sort of monsters that held her in fear for years and years. You guys, just watch the clip.
!!!!!!!!!!!! Get it? She uses a sword! "Take the...sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God" (Ephesians 6:17). Jesus has given me that sword, and boy am I going to use it!
Today we face the monsters at our door, and bring the fight to them!
-Marshal Stacker Pentecost, Pacific Rim
Whatever monsters you may be facing, you can overcome them, for you can do all things through Christ who strengthens you (Philippians 4:13). Know that I, too, am standing with you in the fight.
So I can now say that I've had the complete 500 Days of Summer experience. I've been both protagonists now: Summer Finn, the heartbreaker, and Tom Hansen, the one with a broken heart. You guys, I really think it's making me mature and wise; I'm not even joking. It's making me a more compassionate person.
When I was young I didn't understand why people in relationships would treat each other in shitty ways and make each other cry, but now my eyes have been opened. I get it so much more. I don't judge people for making mistakes in relationships, hurting each other inadvertently[i] because of fear, selfishness, misunderstandings and incorrect assumptions.
I was really struck by a statement Rashida Jones made in an interview for her movie, Celeste and Jesse Forever which she co-wrote and acted in. Paraphrase: “I’ve learned not to take things so personally. When people hurt me, I’ve learned that very rarely are they doing it maliciously or intentionally. So I just need to get over that.” Ugh, it seems so obvious, but it’s so helpful to remember this.
The Bingley/Bennett saga I’ve off-handedly mentioned in some of my past posts is now over and done. And what could I possibly write to express the odd mixture of relief, sadness, anxiety and peace I am feeling[ii]?
Last July or so I started being interested in a person, kind of out of the blue. As my dad says, “The heart wants what the heart wants,” but I didn’t know why my heart wanted what it wanted. I was confused by my own feelings and attraction to this person, who, in my opinion, was not necessarily the kind of person I’d usually feel drawn to.
My first instinct when I sense that I might be starting to “like” someone is to suppress the feelings and try and amputate them, as if they were something unnatural, undesirable and foreign. I do this because I have internalized 1 Corinthians 7[iii] beyond what is actually healthy and helpful. I automatically assume that any “crush” I may have on a person must be an idol that must be destroyed as soon as possible. Joshua Harris, if I ever encounter you in the street, I will jokingly strangle you but it won’t be a joke at all. Ugh, curse you and your “infatuation” talk and “one size fits all” Christian courtship paradigm!!!
That rant aside, I continue my narrative. I sensed that I “liked” this certain person last July, and decided to take a gamble, be mature, and not just deny and stuff down my feelings but actually acknowledge them, feel them and see where it would take me. Maybe a romantic relationship with someone could be something good and useful, not just a means to distract me from my devotion and life lived in service to God. Perhaps God could have a good purpose in two people becoming partners and working as a team together. I was willing to give it all the benefit of the doubt.
And yet, I found myself embroiled in the often overly complicated “dance” of not knowing if this other person liked me back, and of not knowing if I was making it clear enough that I was interested. Throughout it all I was praying, “God, what do you think? If this isn’t supposed to go anywhere, would you make that clear? If you want it to go somewhere, would you please talk to [insert person’s name] so that they’ll take the initiative to talk to me about it?”
And I waited. Oh, did I wait. It was so confusing! It was uncomfortable.
I told close friends and family: “I think we’re on the road to nowhere.” Now I know without a doubt that we actually were. And now it’s over.
I don’t regret opening up my heart and allowing myself to “like” someone. I’m proud of myself for being fearless and putting myself out there, even if it meant getting my heart moderately broken. I applaud myself for being vulnerable.
I may appear strong and intelligent, articulate and competent, but I’m never going to apologize for or hide the fact that I am human, sensitive and deeply desire to one day to be with someone that will love and care for me.
It didn’t work out this time. You know, that’s okay. Six months of unemployment and a failed graduate school attempt have taught me that despite the seeming “dead ends” of life, God’s always got something greater up his sleeve.
God, you devious bastard. Looking forward for what you have for me next.
[i] I wrote “inadvertently” for a reason. Keep in mind that I absolutely believe that those who perpetrate psychological and physical abuse, any kind of intimate partner violence, must be held accountable. If perpetrators aren't seeking active treatment or counseling in order to develop non-destructive ways of coping and engaging in conflict, they should be condemned and penalized to the fullest extent of the law, goddammit.
[iii]“I would like you to be free from concern. An unmarried man is concerned about the Lord’s affairs—how he can please the Lord. But a married man is concerned about the affairs of this world—how he can please his wife—and his interests are divided. An unmarried woman or virgin is concerned about the Lord’s affairs: Her aim is to be devoted to the Lord in both body and spirit. But a married woman is concerned about the affairs of this world—how she can please her husband. I am saying this for your own good, not to restrict you, but that you may live in a right way in undivided devotion to the Lord” (1 Corinthians 7:23-35).
Do you know what really sucks? The constant pressure to be in a relationship. If you're a woman over the age of 22 and haven't got a fella on the brink of proposal, it's like there's something wrong with you. Okay, first of all, WHAT THE HELL. At social gatherings I feel my stomach knot up because I know that my aunt whom I haven't seen in four years--the one that's walking right toward me--is going to ask, "Is there anyone special in your life?"
I rue the day that all of humanity decided to reduce women to being babymakers and nothing else--like that's our only major contribution and accomplishment in all of history. There is nothing wrong with me if I don't manage to ensnare a man with my sexual wiles and then cling to him for dear life, never to let go.
Let's talk about the term "spinster." I'm sure it immediately conjures an image of a little old lady crocheting her own blankets in a decrepit old house, rocking chair and all. Again, the implicit assumption here is that if you don't get married THERE IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH YOU. i.e. no one would deign to love you for the rest of their lives because you are that. fucked. up.
All I can say to that is "no." Okay, if you're a woman over 50 and never married, I don't want you to be moping around feeling shitty about yourself like you're "not good enough." We need to change this paradigm, and we need to change it now.
I understand that not too long ago, getting married was, like, physically necessary. Women hadn't property or income so they were totally at the mercy of men, be they fathers, husbands or sons. I get that. Praise the Lord that we're in the 21st century and a woman can be economically self-sufficient.
So now marriage is a choice for women rather than an inevitability. Great. I am all for this. So why are so many women chasing after marriage as if their lives still depended on it?
Some look to marriage as a means of salvation. "Oh, if I just got married, everything would be better." It's the draught of fairytale happy endings that keep these women in drunken, delusional bliss. Getting married solves everything. You gain a purpose (being a good wife and mother), someone who will love you forever (validation and affirmation--YAY!) and you're ready to rock this gig out until the day you die. Yep. I get it. It's a template for your life. It's a track to lose yourself in and have satisfaction and meaning.
Some think of marriage as a status/prestige thing. It's like you belong to an elite club where you have bitchin' dinner parties with other well-to-do couples and drink your fancy dessert wine beneath a crystal chandelier. Especially among twenty somethings, getting married is, like, the "thing," so you'd better not miss out because you'll get left out. Harsh but tru.
Some people want to get married because they're pretty lonely and insecure. Now, I'm not judging peeps for feeling insecure or lonely. Not at all. I get needy lots of the time! But marriage to some supposedly guarantees that you'll never feel alone again. This is somewhat problematic because in marriage you can actually become even lonelier if your spouse is neglectful, self-absorbed, absent-minded or worse--emotionally abusive. Marriage is simply NOT the cure for loneliness!
So okay, I've made a lot of generalizations and now it's time for the postmodern pluralistic stuff. Every person is a stupid, unbearably unique snowflake and in marriage it all depends on individual personalities and motivation and character. Not all women are getting married for the wrong reasons. I've actually seen a few people get married for the RIGHT reasons. And I'm really happy for them (this statement is irony free). They deserve congratulations (really). The purpose of this post was NOT to shame married people!
I suppose the purpose of these unfocused meandering paragraphs is to say to women, It's OKAY if you're single. Nothing is wrong with you; on the contrary, EVERYTHING IS RIGHT WITH YOU. Don't let your relationship status dictate whether you're "satisfied" with yourself or confident in yourself or if you're "worthy." There are just way too many women out there feeling bad about themselves for being single and frankly it is unacceptable.
If you're reading this, whomever you are, I just want you to know:
You're gorgeous.
You have so much going for you.
You have so much to offer the world.
Don't let shitty passive-aggressive comments about the bareness of your left ring-finger get to you. Mrs. or Mr. Right, whether they exist or not, whether or not they're "coming for you"--just...You know what? Damn them. Damn it all to hell because you are fucking amazing and you don't have time to sit around thinking about inexistent hypothetical future scenarios. You've got too much life to live.
YOU JUST DO YOU and I guarantee you that someone will be impressed.
So this past Friday Grandpa & I went to "Be the Spark" Rally at the Tacoma Dome. The purpose was to bring people together as a community, to get pumped up to make a difference! I was so surprised that so many people care, you know??? Because sometimes I can get so cynical--and it seems like the general public is indifferent about poverty and suffering locally and globally. Friday I was overwhelmed to see this perception completely contradicted! Local youth from the schools and YMCA attended and the fact that they're reaching out & volunteering is a gigantic relief to me. Humanity is sinful and flawed and all that stuff, but sometimes people can be so dang SURPRISING in their sincere love and altruism. From the first song I was crying. It was this indie hip funk alt. band playing some awesome jamz but then this incredible black rapper started performing parts of Dr. King's "I Have a Dream Speech" over it all and I just about lost it. I was crying at the beauty of his dream--of peace, of reconciliation and mostly of HOPE. That he could have dared to dream of "the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood" in the middle of all the overwhelming overt racism, hate, history of oppression--I just am not quite sure how he did it.
I've been so afraid to dream this year--for a better future, for good to prevail. All this striving for peace and justice can feel like one giant loss after another. I started to doubt my idealistic visions of wholeness and goodness and progress even, towards a global community. I have had my share of disappointments in seeing the suffering of clients, and nothing changing (e.g. oppressive immigration law), but I don't think that's reason to not expect any change--it sure isn't reason to not expect anything better from God, or from ourselves.
And that's why I think Desmond Tutu is so special. Look how warm and fun and adorable he looks! Every time he laughed on Friday I felt like I could be happy for the rest of my life & nothing mattered anymore. :) He, like Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., faced intense hatred and oppression. He struggled. He fought. Yet through it all he has maintained his sense of humor, hope and faith in God.
His sermon that night was very interesting. I'd listened to some of his other stuff so I was a bit familiar with his theology. The way he sees it, things are just messed up here on earth. Just plain messed. And he sees God as, in many situations of injustice, powerless. Powerless. Isn't that crazy? That God sees all this icky stuff happening and "all he can do is cry," the Archbishop states. In the following clip he describes it as such: "the omnipotent becomes impotent."
God requires human partners. He relies on us to act in the world. There's a woman in my Sunday school class who shared today, "This is the first time in my life ever that I have said yes to what God has asked of me. And I know without a doubt that I am exactly where I should be." She's a mother of two and is studying to be an RN. I mean, I think this is what God is asking of us. To be courageous. To say yes to him. Imagine the possibilities.
This reflection essay I write in response to my time spent in inter-group dialogue (2.5 hr. long weekly sessions with 9 other students of differing "social identity groups" i.e., race, socio-economic status, religion, etc. for the purpose of "mutual understanding," reconciliation and coalition building for a stronger, united human community). Hoping that it might encourage you, whether you consider yourself privileged, oppressed or bits of both.
When my white colleagues kept apologizing for not having “powerful” stories to tell, I sat confused. They minimized their experiences of exclusion, alienation and identity confusion as less relevant, real and gritty. Their self-deprecation caused by the personal guilt of privilege through race made me wonder.
The School of Social Work encourages its students to be “champions of the oppressed” and to “bring marginalized voices to the fore.” Yet, simultaneously, is it disempowering, denying and guilt-tripping the oppressors? The school teaches that the poor must not be stigmatized or demonized, but aren’t we committing this act of judgment upon the proverbial “white male”?
As I have continued to sit in my bewilderment I must challenge my assumptions: Do I actually value the utterly tragic stories of the poor and oppressed more than their rich and privileged counterparts?
Sometimes I thank my lucky stars that I am majoring in social work because I know that the rest of my life will be devoted to knowing “real people”—and by “real people” I mean people who have “gone through a lot”: i.e., the traumatized, suffering oppressed. In my compassion for the poor I realize that I have developed a bias against the powerful, the “oppressors.” I think of them as less than human because I assume that life has been handed to them on a silver platter. I even have that resentment towards the privileged parts of myself: my comfortably middle class suburban life of stability. I consider this part of myself to be illegitimate; I seek to disown it. It is nothing to be proud of; it is rather a source of shame. We downplay our privileged identities because there is no sense of struggle in them. In our privilege we enjoy what we did not earn.
And I sense that many others hold this bias against their privilege as well. I see it in my white colleagues; the bias is directed against themselves. Yet as they shared their personal stories of pain—of being rejected on the basis of religion, moral values and nonconformity—I can see that their pain is legitimate. Undeniably they have enjoyed much power and convenience on the basis of their race, and yet their complexity shines forth in their experience of simultaneous oppression along other lines. Perhaps they have been shielded from a lot of pain because of their race, but their race has not excluded them from all pain. I cannot pretend that they are not “real people” as they share their loneliness and insecurity. We all carry brokenness within us—even if it may be hidden or suppressed by a façade of privilege.
Surely, it is a “straw man” to compare suffering and oppressions among individuals. It is also unfair to evaluate people according to the amount of hardships they have endured throughout their lifetime. I must challenge my tendency to discount the life experiences of those who have not “had it rough”—according to my arbitrary standards of who is deserving or non-deserving of “speaking their truth.” I must challenge myself to re-humanize the oppressor. I must remember that the river of pain touches the shores of all lives. I must allow the estuary of these streams to commingle and swirl into one sea. For only in the uniting of our personal pain can we rise together.
The risk of pity is that it kills with kindness; the promise of passion is that it builds on the hope that the poor are fully capable of helping themselves if given the chance.
-Nancy Gibbs
Just thought I'd share a fun picture from the school I've been volunteering at since fall: Thurgood Marshall Elementary. Every Wednesday I help in Ms. Pan's 4th grade class. The kids are great; they crack me up. Nearly all of them qualify for free/reduced lunch and belong to communities of color. The odds may be stacked against them--statistically they have no chance of overcoming the various barriers to high achievement--but when I see them singing and dancing to Chris Brown, I feel hopeful.
These kids fit the classic profile for "the oppressed." But as a classmate said today, it's not about pity. These kids aren't sitting around feeling sorry for themselves because they were born with the chips stacked against them. They're enjoying life!
And they've got these great new friends! In the picture are girls from Seattle Girls School, a non-profit focused on empowering young women and their communities. They laugh and play games together; it's obvious the kids LOVE being with their mentors.
When we look at any person--homeless, a survivor of domestic violence, a family at a food bank--it's not about the inward thought of, "Oh, poor homeless man" or "Oh, poor battered woman" or "Oh, poor family that can't make ends meet." We--I--need to stop seeing them as victims. These people can reach the freakin' stars if they wanted.
They are not victims. They have power and potential.
Similarly, WE are not victims in any situation or circumstance. WE have power and potential.
Christ looks at us and sees our potential. He knows our power because it's his power.
Aiming to see myself and others with the eyes of Jesus.
Surely God is my salvation; I will trust and not be afraid.
Isaiah 12:2
It's kind of remarkable looking at my journal entries from only a couple of weeks ago and seeing how much my prayers have changed since then. Last quarter in the School of Social Work left me burnt out, bitter and cynical. It was hard for me to believe in God.
And then this past week it took something drastic to shake me out of my bitterness. As I sat in my room, reading this email about my Grandpa having to go to the emergency room at 1am, feeling myself about to cry uncontrollably, something within me broke. Well, broke open.
I still have questions for God. I don't understand why there's so much darkness and injustice in the world. But I think this week I realized how little control I have over the lives of others (protecting them, keeping them from harm) as well as over my own life. It was really sobering. Despite all we can do to "prepare for the worst" or to prevent anything bad happening in our lives and the lives of those we love, it's impossible.
Initially I was distraught about being "at the mercy of God" in this sense.. and to see my Grandpa at His mercy as well. It's frightening. And although I'm scared I am praying for the ability to trust and surrender. And as I am laying myself at the mercy of God I feel the bitterness and cynicism dissolving.
