Along unfamiliar paths

I've been putting off blogging because I thought I had to have something deep, profound and well thought-out to share that was 'worth' reading or whatever. To be honest, I haven't had gigantic epiphanies or revelations lately, and I guess that's okay.

I'm leaving for Bolivia on Friday morning. This will be my first international trip since returning from Mexico last year. I intentionally cleared out my calendar to leave room for rest, reflection and prayer in the days leading up to my departure.

The past few weeks have been a bit melancholy and angst-ridden to say the least. I've been wrestling with issues of spiritual and professional identity and therein have encountered my own weakness and vulnerability. Every third Sunday at our church, we have time in service for 'prayers of blessing and anointing with oil.' This past Sunday one of my dear mentors was tasked with praying for me. "Is there anything specific that I can be pray about for you?" I looked at her, pausing before I admitted (with a noticeable tremor in my voice), "I've just been pretty broken lately."

All this to say, I'm not quite sure what my prayer is for Bolivia. Initially I was hoping that God would throw me a bone and tell me about the next spiritual assignment he has for me. I still really desire this: direction and clarity. But the frustrating thing has been my own spiritual blindness--my inability to hear God, my inability to discern his will. It's been maddening and heart-rending. I can't "fix" my own spiritual condition. I can't "figure out" a solution. Only God can heal me.

"I will lead the blind by ways they have not known, along unfamiliar paths I will guide them; I will turn the darkness into light before them and make the rough places smooth. These are the things I will do; I will not forsake them" (Isaiah 42:16).

Yes, God is leading me along "unfamiliar paths." I'm literally(!) going somewhere I've never been before. But more than that I believe that God is taking me somewhere new and unknown spiritually. In a big way. Please pray for me. 26 June-19 July.

In it to win it. (1 Corinthians 9:24-25)

There Is One Body

"So, if you think you are standing firm, be careful that you don't fall!" (1 Corinthians 10:12). 

This Wednesday will mark the conclusion of a four-week series on the subject of race and reconciliation at University Presbyterian Church. A co-worker and I have been planning it since last October. I must say, it has been a very intense experience. I knew that race was a sensitive subject, but I didn't quite anticipate the strong responses (both positive and negative) that we have received from participants and the enormous sense of responsibility I have felt in stewarding these weekly conversations.

Through this planning process I've become a bit upset about how divided the church is: particularly across race, denomination and socio-economic status. "There is one body and one Spirit--just as you were called to one hope when you were called--one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all" (Ephesians 4:4-6). The "church" does not appear to be "one" just yet.

In the past few weeks, we have heard from Christians of color share their painful experiences of racism in the church and in Christian settings. We have heard from White Christians who work in the criminal justice system and the ethical choices they make every day that affect communities throughout King County. We have heard in a small degree the pain and loss that the Black community experiences through systemic oppression and acts of violence that lead to the deaths of their loved ones.

The title of the series is "What Ferguson Means for Us." I learned early on that I had made a mistake in considering Ferguson to be symbolic in nature, a lesson for us in Seattle to learn about from a distance. It's impossible to look at photos of Michael Brown's uncovered dead body, desperate protests in the street and images from his funeral "from a distance." Things became very "real," very quickly when  I read a cover story article in TIME magazine, "Black Lives Matter." The published images of Walter Scott being shot to death shook me to my core. The article also lists incident after incident of young, unarmed black men being shot and killed by the police. I know for a fact that a similar situation of a white male police officer shooting and killing an unarmed young black boy has happened here in our very city. There is nothing distant about Ferguson.

"Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen: to loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke?...[N]ot to turn away from your own flesh and blood?" (Isaiah 58). 

I believe that now is a time for the church to pay attention. We're going to need to be alert. We're most likely going to need to repent.

"[W]hen the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth?" (Luke 18:8). "He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches" (Revelation 2:7).


Do your work, O Lord, to form us into one Body--the Body of Christ!!

Taking a Second Glance at Evangelism

It seems to me that pretty much all of us have a 'gross' evangelization encounter story. By that I mean, a stranger walking up to you and "sharing the gospel," oftentimes with the help of some sort of pamphlet with a diagram that visually represents salvation in God and has Bible verses on the back.

So for me, I was at the HUB one day back in my college years, getting lunch. I was headed toward the cafeteria to return my dirty tray when I was unexpectedly steered to sit down with a woman on a ledge next to an overgrown indoor plant. Perhaps the word 'ambushed' may be too strong to describe this encounter, but that's kind of how it felt at the moment.

The woman who had stopped me then proceeded to flip through her pamphlet with the diagram and the Bible verses, asking me some questions about who I was and who I believed God to be. I pride myself on being a thoughtful person, so responded honestly and from the heart, but discovered quickly that this woman was not as interested in knowing me as she was in getting through that pamphlet!

She asked me if I had "received Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior," to which I replied in the affirmative. She looked at me suspiciously, squinting her eyes slightly, then proceeded to explain in great detail that many people may *think* they are saved but in actuality are not. It was obvious that she doubted my eternal salvation. At this point I started to get a bit ticked off by this woman's audacity and boldness to think she had me pegged as 'not really' a believer, that she had to 'save' from my own self-deceit and delusion.

"I have to go," I interjected firmly, and she looked a bit crestfallen not to have been able to 'seal the deal' with me by having me pray through the Sinner's Prayer (or so I assumed). I stewed on that interaction the rest of the day and still get riled up recounting it now. Who does she think she is? How dare she?

One thing is clear: that day I made a vow that I would never become an evangelist like that.

'Gross' Evangelism

A couple of people in my life have had even worse experiences. A classmate in high school told me that as a waitress at Johnny Rocket's a table of young men told her (as she was trying to take their order) that she was a sinner, was going to hell and then didn't leave a tip (but of course left a Bible)! Assholes! My dad was evangelized to in Mexico by a white guy who told my dad he was a sinner "didn't know anything" and heaped one verbal assault after another against him as his seven-year old daughter (I presume) looked on. Evangelical encounters like these are absolutely disgusting. The overt message is one of condemnation. There is no love. This kind of evangelism damages those it professes to 'save' and misrepresents the gospel of Jesus Christ (and Jesus Christ himself).

Shrinking Back

As a consequence of these hurtful experiences with heavy-handed evangelists, I became extra sensitive not to 'inflict' my beliefs on others, and did my best to keep my faith somewhat hidden out of courtesy. I definitely didn't share the gospel. In many ways I agreed with postmodern values of pluralism and relativism--that everyone was entitled to believe what they wanted. Who was I to convince them otherwise (i.e. tell them that they were 'wrong' and I was 'right'--GROSS)? So while people around me may have known that I went to church, or may have seen me reading my Bible in public, I was not interested in evangelizing (sharing the good news).

Gross Evangelism=Proclamation-Love
My 'Evangelism'=Love-Proclamation

For this reason I stayed clear of working in 'church ministries' to serve the poor, or faith-based organizations, preferring non-profits or government work as a means to be present to the oppressed. I wanted to steer clear of 'gross' charity work--only offering to help with physical needs (food, clothing, shelter) if those served go to chapel. That carrot and stick stuff seemed so disingenuous to me and even, perhaps, manipulative.

All this to say, I became a very passive evangelist, if I was one at all. I was all good with being friends with unbelievers, listening to them, praying for them (when alone in my room, of course, never WITH them). Again, I was not going to be that gross evangelist!

The Stigma of Evangelism

In academia I learned of the term proselytization ("to induce someone to convert one's faith"). It was always used with pejorative overtones. Proselytization was nearly synonymous with 'cultural imperialism' (i.e. the Crusades, Spanish colonial 'missions' to Latin America). Proselytization implied an intrusion, usually with a strong arm, against a population, forcing them into belief. It was oppressive. To proselytize was basically to be an asshole. My professor of 'The Political Economy of World Religion' would talk self-deprecatingly about his Christian faith in class but always made sure to assure us quickly, "but I'm not here to proselytize [i.e. impose]." Evangelicals and evangelism in general were presented in pretty dim light.

The gospel is good news, meant to be a gift, yet it seems that in these days, to some it's seen as only inflicting injury.

Reclaiming the Gospel

"I am not ashamed of the gospel, because it is the power of God for the salvation of everyone who believes" (Romans 1:16).

To be honest, I still carry vestiges of shame about the gospel because it has been misused by so many of these gross evangelist types, and a part of me is super embarrassed to be associated with them by sharing the gospel with people in my life. Recently I was convicted of the need to pray forgiveness over the evangelists that have hurt me in the past, to renounce that vow to never be like them, and to bless, yes bless, gross evangelists in Jesus' name. It feels like a turning point.

A part of me really does believe in the power of the gospel, and that it really is good news! Nowadays I am willing to openly talk about Jesus Christ with people, simply because he has done so much for me--like, I have a lot to share, if people are interested in hearing my story.

What I'm trying to say is that, gross evangelization encounters notwithstanding, I am ready to live into being an evangelist, even if that means risking looking or sounding stupid when sharing the gospel. This is kind of big, guys!

My Old Evangelism=Love-Proclamation
My New Evangelism=Love+Proclamation

Here goes nothing!

On Not Being a Pretentious Shepherd

"The next session covered briefly the three types of relationships we need, if we are to be people growing. We need those who are further along the way, who give us hints of where we are and raise the question of where we are going--what the next step might be. They may be teachers or counselors, or, when we are without these, books. Then we need those who are our peers--fellow pilgrims with whom we share the day-by-day events of our life in Christ, the discoveries we make, the places where we are challenged, our discouragement, our hope; brothers who hold us accountable, who remind us of our covenant relationship; brothers who mediate forgiveness. And thirdly, we need those who are not so advanced as we--a little flock which is ours to tend and nourish. 'All these relationships,' said Gordon [Cosby], 'are utterly necessary to our spiritual development, but the one I want us to look at in this class is the one of being shepherds, because it is at this point most of us will feel the most hesitancy or timidity. We will feel that it is pretentious for us to be guides to others at the point of their life in Christ.'" (110).

-Elizabeth O'Connor, Journey Inward, Journey Outward

So I've been reading this book about a group of folks in D.C. who started a coffee house church before it was "cool," and am fascinated by this quote. According to O'Connor and her peers, there are three essential types of relationships that every believer needs. I'm going to rename them into my own vernacular:

1. Titans
2. Sisters
3. Little Sisters.

I had a bit of a contentious discussion the other day with a colleague of mine who was reluctant to consider anyone in his life to fit into category #3: "Little Sisters" (or "Brothers" in this case, whatever). In O'Connor's words, "We feel that it is pretentious..." I hear that. I feel that. I understand that there are hierarchical overtones to the notion of shepherds and the "little flock." Yes, the shepherd/flock "construction" creates a dichotomy that has implications of power and influence. Yet somewhere along the way, in our postmodern culture, hierarchy has become nearly synonymous with evil! I don't necessarily believe that to be true. I'm not saying that it's unwarranted. It seems that aversion to hierarchy is a reaction to countless misuses of power in the form of paternalism and dogmatism in the church. I mean, that and the fact that this country was founded on supposedly "egalitarian values." So it's in the American bones and psyche to defy hierarchy, so to say.

This being said, I am coming to a pretty strong conviction that there are varying stages of spiritual maturity (in the Greek it'd be nepios, teknon, paidion, and huios--see Cooke, Prophecy and Responsibility), and that any any point in time, any believer has people "ahead" of them (titans), "beside" them (sisters) and "behind" them (little sisters). I have also come to the strong conviction that it's high time that I start giving some attention to my lil' sis cohort and stop being a greedy asshole!

Titans

If you know me to any degree, you'll probably hear me at one point and time rant and rave about the 'titans' in my life. These are the folks that I just 'want to get in the room with' to soak up their words of wisdom, receive their prayers, encouragement and teaching for the journey. I also often describe these people as "nuts" (in the best way, duh). In the spirit of the now far outdated meme, here are my titans in somewhat chronological order:

Grandpa &
Susan &
Ann &
Ruby &
Joyce &
Celia &
Debbie.

These are people that have walked beside me, shared of their lives with me and listened to me. I pretty much just draft off of them. They are my coaches and consultants. I love them and thank God for them VERY frequently.

Sisters

My peers are also folks that I cherish deeply and love and want to hug constantly. They're the ones that I talk to on a regular basis, who are usually grappling with similar questions. They're less intimidating than my titans but they go hard spiritually:

Hillary &
Faith &
Laura &
Lisa &
Courtney &
Naomi &
Kim.

These are my peeps! They're the ones I can pray with throughout the week and who keep me accountable. I love them so much, too!

Little Sisters

Okay, so now I hit the dreaded "growing edge." It was a sobering realization that while I love to receive oodles of instruction and encouragement from my titans and my peers (who wouldn't?), I'm making little to no concerted effort to "pay it forward" by seeking out and staying loyal to any "little sisters." Do I actually have little sisters in my life? HAHAHA, maybe two, perhaps three, and those being very informal mentorship-esque relationships. My best friend has an older woman at her church to prays for her literally every day. I am not that dedicated.

It has recently emerged in prayer that the Lord is calling me to step into a new role of discipling some of the people he's brought into my life. Is it "pretentious" of me to start moving in obedience to that call? I'd like to believe not. Did I think it was pretentious of my grandpa to disciple me while I was in high school? Hell no! "This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers" (1 John 3:16). My grandpa would have laid down his life for me, so I could all the way trust him to be my shepherd. "The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep" (John 10:11b). I believe God is inviting me to shepherd others with this same heart of love. I mean, literally in prayer I heard, "Are you willing to lay down your life for these people?" My first thought was "Fuck," but, after some crying and stuff, I said, "Yes."

I've been thinking a bit about what it means to be a part of the "royal priesthood" (1 Peter 2:9). It's part of my priestly duty not to be a spiritual elitist, and to draw near to those who may be (relatively) immature spiritually (believe me, I have plenty of immaturity issues I am praying through). "Every high priest is selected from among men and is appointed to represent them in matters related to God... He is able to deal gently with those who are ignorant and are going astray, since he himself is subject to weakness" (Hebrews 5:1-2). This just makes me think of Pastor Kerry, of Japanese Presbyterian Church, who in my opinion is a shepherd of shepherds and lives this out daily. Rather than disdaining people around me, or getting overly frustrated with them for being fearful, hard-hearted, unbelieving, etc., God is inviting me to intercede on their behalf, love them and in humility consider them to be better than myself (Philippians 2:3). In many ways I sense the Lord reminding me to remember the condition I was in when he first found me, so as not to become blinded by my own self-righteousness and self-importance. I'm just learning loads!

As you go, disciple

All this to say, I'm entering into a new season and stepping into a new role of discipling others. *Scary!* What I am writing about isn't especially revelatory and it isn't profound. It's just that I am discovering new levels of meaning to the words of the Great Commission, which used to make my skin crawl (I save that for another blog post), but now have a whole lot of operational meaning: "Therefore go and make disciples of all nations" (Matthew 28:19). A student who was doing Fuller extension once told me (and I never went back to fact-check, just trusted him blindly so... *shrug*) that a more accurate translation of the verse would be as you go, disciple, like it should just be part and parcel of the whole following Jesus thing. It doesn't necessarily feel natural to me now, but I am praying that one day it will.

Living Into My Calling

Earlier this year I mentioned that during a time of prayer I heard from the Lord, "It is time to live into your calling." Recently someone asked me, "So what does that mean, then? How have you been living into your calling?" These are good questions!

The Ever-Elusive "Call" 

It would be an understatement to say that from a pretty young age I've been more or less obsessed with the idea of "calling," that God has a particular *thing* in mind for me to do while I am here on earth. When I was in high school I read an anthology of Christian writings on "call" which ranged from 100 C.E. to 1967. I wanted to know so badly what specific "good works" God had "prepared in advance" for me to do (Ephesians 2:10), but just couldn't seem to figure it out.

I'm not going to lie; it's been a lot of "hit and miss" and "trial and error" when it comes to discerning my call, though I have been in conversation with God about this for awhile now. At first I thought I was going to be a social worker, but that proved to be far too emotionally intense and overwhelming. Then I thought I might try my hand at public administration and policy-making, but that turned out to be a pretty discouraging venture as well. Rather than discovering the one thing that I loved and felt passionate about, it’s been mostly a lot of closed doors, and realizing that there are many things which I simply cannot handle/do. Yes, this process of elimination may have been helpful for a time, but I definitely wondered to myself, “Am I ever going to find something that actually fits?” All the dead ends and red lights made me question if God had something specific in mind for my life after all, or if I was destined to be on an endless chase for a “call” that I would never fully lay ahold of in my lifetime. 

To me, “call” and vocation have been pretty much the same thing. I believed that my job had to be a fundamental way that I express my faith in the world. So no, a job never was "just" a job; I needed to know how it fit into the bigger picture of God's purposes. Imagine my surprise this year finding out that after all that, my job is actually not exactly as crucial I had thought to gauging how deeply I am involved in what God is doing around me and in my community.

Power≠God's Will/Favor (Necessarily)

I've learned a fair amount of things regarding God's call for my life this year. First of all, God has shown me that call doesn't necessarily have to do with professional achievements and status. God has not seemed to be especially concerned about me going to graduate school, or working my way up in a company. This has been a gigantic load off of my shoulders, because for awhile I was really feeling the pressure to "put my potential [read: intelligence] to good use [read: don't waste it]." I'm done feeling guilty about that.

I've also learned that God's call for me does not necessarily involve undue strain and striving. By this I mean, it seems to me that God is inviting me to begin to move deeper in the (spiritual) gifts that are already deeply ingrained in who I am. I don't have to force things and struggle a bunch, but can play to my strengths. I marvel that it's permissible, nay encouraged, to play to my strengths. "Each one should use whatever gifts he has been given to serve others, faithfully administering God's grace in its various forms" (1 Peter 4:10). This has meant moving deeper in the prophetic gift.

Prophecy-Spooky!

I had an inkling that God had gifted me prophetically somehow, but then heard this year that I definitely had a "prophetic anointing," which got me motivated to start digging deeper into what that meant. It was so mysterious to me because it's not like I grew up around people claiming to be prophetic. Actually, it was kind of implied to me that the gift of prophecy doesn't exist anymore (which is not true). What, then,  does it even mean to be prophetic? Here's what I've discovered.

Characteristics of the Prophetic Gift

1. Deep sensitivity to justice-see and perceive injustice and feel compelled to act. Anger is often a bi-product.
2. Deep sensitivity to the supernatural (good and evil)-can sense when things are "wrong," gut feelings may usually indicate an ability to discern between spirits.
3. Knowledge and revelation regarding the will of God-sense God's movements and what he would like to do in situations/individuals' lives. Connection with the mind/heart of God.
4. Hear from God-via dreams, audible words, visions in prayer, etc. These can be future or present-oriented.
5. Deliver truthful messages at the right time-may have extemporaneous words to share (from scripture or other revealed things) which speak specifically to what God is doing in a person/community. Often packs a powerful punch; may be received with long reflective silences.
6. Intercession-many with the prophetic gifting feel acutely the discrepancy between the way things are and the way that God intends things to be, and so may spend a significant amount of time praying for his kingdom to come on earth.

(If any of these are hitting home for you, first of all, I am so excited! Please contact me if you want to explore your giftings further. Meeting prophetically gifted people makes me really, really happy. For further reading I highly suggest Primal Fire by Neil Cole.)

I believe that calling is deeply tied to spiritual gifting, and that as I am moving more in my spiritual gifts, I am also moving into my calling! By moving in my spiritual gifts I mean: praying for others, sharing visions I get with people (WHEN APPROPRIATE), sharing words of encouragement, praying in the Spirit ("Whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven." Matthew 18:18). I've got to tell you, it's been really, really good, and I'm only just starting! I make mistakes, of course, and at times find myself out of my depth, but life is making so much more sense now that I am doing what God has created me to do. It's awesome! I am still learning so much. 

Did I answer the question?

Okay, now it's time to tie everything together! This year, "living into my calling" has meant letting go of my own guesses to where the Lord was going to take me, and focusing more on being who he's already made me to be! Does that make sense? I'm not so preoccupied anymore with the specifics of what I do (vocation). I believe that God will bring the right thing for me at the right time, like he did with my current job and new community in Greenwood. When it's time for me to move onto the next thing, he'll let me know and will bring that new job/place before me. I am confident in his provision. Calling, what is it? It's being responsive to God and letting him do his work in me. Everything else will be taken care of.

You're gonna be IMPORTANT and you're gonna do a LOT, but it's not about what you do.
You, you're awesome. You're made that way! You're made from love to be love to SPREAD love!
For now, remember this: You're awake; you're awesome. Live like it.

-Kid President, Letter to a Person on Their First Day Here

Rise up; it's time.

Remember those earlier days after you had received the light, when you stood your ground in a great contest in the face of suffering. Sometimes you were publicly exposed to insult and persecution; at other times you stood side by side with those who were so treated. You sympathized with those in prison and joyfully accepted the confiscation of your property, because you knew that you yourselves had better and lasting possessions.

So do not throw away your confidence; it will be richly rewarded. You need to persevere so that when you have done the will of God, you will receive what he has promised. For in just a very little while,

'He who is coming will come and will not delay.
But my righteous one will live by faith.
And if he shrinks back, I will not be pleased with him.'

But we are not of those who shrink back and are destroyed, but of those who believe and are saved.

Hebrews 10:32-39

Up until now I haven't felt it was appropriate to write about Ferguson and the subsequent deaths of other black males at the hands of white police officers, because it was much more important to make space for black voices to be heard (some articles here: 1, 2, 3). However, as a person who is not black, I think it's time for me to write to speak to my fellow Christians who are also not black, but wondering what to do. What does it mean to stand "side by side" with our black brothers and sisters as they endure such aggravated trials and tribulation?

Before we begin to build a straw man, talking about whether Michael Brown or other men who have been killed were "innocent," I have to say up front that it's not about that. Michael Brown is dead. Eric Garner is dead. This notwithstanding at the hands of another fellow human being. This is not a time to be discussing the ethics and "necessity" of corporal punishment, and trying to "justify" police officers using physical violence against "criminals." These men are dead, and it's a big fucking deal. I'm not sure how I can emphasize this enough.

A week and a half ago I participated in a march organized by several local black pastors in partnership with the NAACP and Garfield High School. This was one day after the ruling on Darren Wilson (not to indict him for the shooting of Michael Brown). As we headed west along Union, a group of 200 people or so, I was ultra-aware of the fact that when we would chant "Hands up, Don't shoot," for the black males walking alongside me, this was a lived reality. And I started to cry. For these men, being in public, unarmed and vulnerable (literally with their hands raised in surrender) knowing their peers have been gunned down and choked to death by men wearing uniforms very similar to the ones donned by SPD officers 'escorting' and observing us along the way, was quite honestly, eerie.

When we arrived at the U.S. District Court, we stood on and around the steps of the building listening to several speakers from the black community who expressed extreme frustration, anger and at times, despondency. At one point, a pastor assumed the mic, saying, "I just want to first of all thank those of you who are not a part of the black community for showing up today and being a part of this." By this time our group had grown to probably 400 or more people, and I had noticed (with great relief) during the march that yes, there were indeed white hipsters and white older adults and mixed kids and male Latinos and young Asian Americans throughout the crowd. This is good, though I don't think the black community should necessarily have to thank us for being there.

It has been written of the Body of Christ: "If one part suffers, every part suffers with it" (1 Corinthians 12:26a). What does it mean to stand "side by side with those who were so treated"? Listen. Care. Pray. Show up. 

For it has also been written:

"Justice will dwell in the desert and righteousness live in the fertile field.

The fruit of righteousness will be peace;

     the effect of righteousness will be quietness and confidence forever. 

My people will live in peaceful dwelling places,

     in secure homes,

          in undisturbed places of rest" (Isaiah 32:16-17).

 May we cry out to God until this is fulfilled on earth for all his people.

Remembering Grandpa

"I miss that old guy."

-Grandpa's best friend

Sometimes grief robs me of words. I'm full of sorrow, and yet the ability to articulate that sorrow completely escapes me. It's not a constant sort of despair that I feel, but an intense sadness that will hit me at certain moments causing the tears to flow.

In his last days, Grandpa's only reservation about leaving Earth was his concern for the well-being of the family. "I just want to make sure that you will be okay," he kept repeating with labored breaths from his nursing home bed, as the oxygen machine nearby chugged along. "We're going to be okay, Grandpa," I would reply, even though tears were falling on my face. I held his hand. "Don't worry. We'll be okay."

I know that we all are going to be okay, but in the meantime, it's been tough. My major frustration is not being able to talk to Grandpa anymore. Talking with him was the best. "God, I just want to talk to Grandpa!" is a frequent prayer of late, even though I know praying these words will not magically bring Grandpa back in his bodily form like some sort fairy godmother. And yet, while he was alive, Grandpa was like a fairy godmother to me, always willing to listen and to love. Gosh, I miss him!

Mourning is an ache and a longing for that which I can't have. I just wish that I could simply hear his voice saying, "How's things?" as he was wont to do. I wish that I could correspond with him in letters, even... tie up an envelope to a string hanging from the sky that will be lifted into the heavenly realms for Grandpa to open up and then reply to in his methodical, slightly rightward leaning script. I wish that in my dreams I could go to a cafe that's halfway between heaven and earth, so I can have coffee with Grandpa. Oh, what I would give for just 10 minutes of conversation with him!

God has promised provision for those who grieve: to "bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair" (Isaiah 61:3). I eagerly await the fulfillment of these promises in my life as I experience all of the discomfort, ups and downs that come with loss. I know that it's a matter of "fix[ing] [my] eyes on Jesus Christ, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God" (Hebrews 12:2). In enduring this temporary pain of grief, I look forward to the day when I will be joyfully reunited with my dear Grandpa in heaven, when I can tell him everything and he won't ever go away.

"I want nothing but the best for you," he managed to say on that Friday night at Kline Galland. He needn't have verbalized it because he spoke this over all of us granddaughters with every act of love, service and sacrifice he did while he was with us on earth. I know that Grandpa would have laid down his very life for us (1 John 3:16b) if need be. And in many ways, he did.

 

Shirt reads: "Lifetime Achievement in Grandfathering"

I miss you, old guy. Can't wait to see you again someday.

Grandpa

I wanted to call you today
And maybe just sit and watch the game.
I wanna tell you about the books I'm reading
And pray with you.
Maybe if I open the door to your room
You'll be there waiting for me.
But all I see is your white leather armchair
And hate that you're not in it anymore.

Dumbledore can't live forever.

In July 2005 three of my friends and I camped out on the floor of our local Barnes & Noble for the midnight release of the novel Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. When the clock struck 12:00AM, we got our copies of the book, my mom drove me home, I sat down on the couch, opened the book and did not move from that place until I'd finished it. Thankfully my friends and I were not one of the many disappointed fans who (like us) had waited hours in line in anticipation for The Half-Blood Prince, only to have a mean-spirited spoilsport run by them screaming "Dumbledore dies!" before they'd even gotten their hands on a copy!

I remember that many Harry Potter fans were distraught that Dumbledore did, in fact, die in The Half-Blood Prince, because the headmaster was a loved and respected character, and especially dear to the protagonist, Harry Potter. However, J.K. Rowling issued a statement more or less deeming Dumbledore's death as necessary, because in the absence of his go-to mentors (Sirius Black and Albus Dumbledore), Harry would have to learn to stand on his own.

I am currently in the process of losing my own Dumbledore, my grandpa Don. I've had a really special, dear connection to my grandpa since about high school when, seemingly out of the blue, he called me one summer to see if I'd be interested in doing Bible study with him once a week. Together we worked through the book of Matthew using questions he'd copy for me out of his study Bible. At first it was kind of awkward since up until that time me and my grandpa weren't especially "close." Yet I grew to love the one-on-one time with him and treasured hearing his thoughts and reflections on the ways God had been faithful to him in his life.

Grandpa seemed to really "get" me and became my go-to person in the event of crisis. I think because he shared so openly with me about his past pain and anguish, I felt safe telling him about mine. One year I asked my Grandpa to coffee to get his advice about a big decision regarding a romantic relationship. His younger brother, Ty, was visiting from San Mateo, CA, and remarked, "Gee, I wish my grandkids asked me out for coffee!" as we walked out the door.

I'd like to think that I "got" Grandpa pretty well, too. "You're able to put my thoughts into words," he said to me several times, when he would be stumbling to articulate his struggles with faith and doubt. Grandpa liked to grapple with hard questions (Who is Jesus? Are other religions valid? Why did Jesus have to die on the cross?). It was fun to talk to him about theological and political issues because he was never one to put-down your ideas or opinions, just dialogue about them so that everyone participating in the conversation might arrive a little closer to the truth by the end of it, including himself.

Grandpa had a brilliant mind. He was very sensitive to others and reached out when he could tell that people were in the midst of great turmoil. I remember that during one of the darkest seasons of my life he called me on the phone. "How are you doing?" he stated simply, and I began to sob because I knew that he really did want to know. He said, "You know, your grandma and I love you very much, and I think God does, too."

Lately Grandpa's mounting health issues have sapped him of his brilliant mind and sensitive heart. He has trouble staying awake, can't carry on a continuous conversation and sometimes says deluded or irrational things. I pray to God wondering how much of Grandpa is still in there, in that frail body.

I can't just sit with him and shoot the breeze about global politics, his past work at Boeing and the great unanswered cosmic questions of our time anymore. It's simply not an option. My grandpa is still alive but a huge part of who he was to me (sage, counselor and guide) has been lost.

How do I move forward when someone so important in my life has vacated that position? How do I pray for someone whose mind is clearly not all there anymore? And where is all of this headed?

Mostly, when I think about my grandpa as he is today I just get pretty sad. My whole family is grieving. I don't presume to claim that I've unlocked all the mysteries of life and death and mourning. I'm right in the thick of it, so I don't have easy answers to vacuum up the pain of losing who my grandpa once was to me.

I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know how to lose a best friend like this. I'm mostly feeling and praying my way along, trusting God to lead me and comfort me through this season of grief.

Dumbledore can't live forever.

Rethinking Utilitarianism

Something's been bugging me about the middle class Christian values taught to me growing up. You see, I was raised to make my life count, to "make a difference in the world." My Sunday school teachers in high school advised that since my classmates and I belonged to the richest 1% in the world, we should use our opportunities and privilege to create justice for the poor (Isaiah 58 was blowing up like no other back then). The gist of their teaching was, "If you're going to be a lawyer, be a lawyer for the marginalized. If you're going to be a doctor, work in public health with the uninsured." The implicit argument was use your influence for good.

That's all fine and dandy. I'm not saying that wanting to live a life of service to others is for dreamers and fools. Yes, if you have a burning passion to reach out to those that society has thrown away and forgotten, I think that's so cool!

My problem is with the Christians that think they know the *best* (subtext: only acceptable) way to engage in social justice. Utilitarian influences are pervasive if not unquestioned in Christian thought--post-modern, middle class, 'progressive,' American, Pacific Northwest Christian thought, especially. This is not good! Let's unpack this a little.

To put it roughly, utilitarianism values getting 'the best bang for your buck.' Jon Stuart Mill, the 'father' of utilitarianism, was interested in the question: How can we maximize happiness (on the societal leval) and minimize unhappiness? It's about creating the greatest total impact of happiness using the limited resources available--optimization and efficiency are key in Mill's take on 'best' social policy.

So what does this have to do with my Sunday school teachers telling me to 'make a difference' with my educational and career choices? Well, kind of everything.

There's no denying that injustice is rampant around us. What's unfair in the world today? Uhhh, a ton of things. That's a big "duh." (See: racism, sexism, class difference, physical/emotional abuse) It's not hard to see what's wrong. And for those already on the social justice bandwagon (I include myself in this!), it's pretty obvious that there's much to be done.

However, it seems to me that progressive American Christianity's answer to social injustice has been get as much worldly power as you can, and exert it to benefit the poor.

"What's wrong with that?" you may ask. "Why shouldn't we help the largest amount of people possible by attaining the largest amount of political/financial power possible?" Again, the implicit statement is I'm going to use my power for good!!!

Let me put it to you this way: would you consider Jesus' actions during his life to be utilitarian in nature? Did Jesus 'work his way up' in Jewish society so that he could 'change the system from within' from a position of power? NO! In fact, he was reviled and rejected by those in power, Jewish and Roman alike. Rather than rise up in the ranks and use political power to effect a cultural change, he preferred to go from village to village with "no place to lay his head" (Matthew 8:20). "[H]e made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant" (Philippians 2:7). He knew that the political systems of his time were corrupt (e.g. crooked tax collectors, hypocritical Pharisees), but rather than creating a complete institutional overhaul by force (i.e. taking up worldly power/kingship and exerting influence), he was in fact, victimized by the unjust justice system. Does this not blow your mind?!

Utilitarianism posits that top-down reform is (supposedly) the "best" because it affects the largest amount of people, therefore maximizing positive impact.

How does this manifest in the church? Have you ever met someone who's so well-versed in the ways of "correct" social justice that they "pooh-pooh" "handouts" and "band-aid solutions" such as soup kitchens and emergency shelters? A person like that might say, "Oh, meals for the homeless? You know that only addresses symptoms, not the cause, right? True structural change has to come before THAT can be fixed." To the well-meaning believer engaged in charity work, a social justice snob would deem said work utterly inadequate.

I do not mean to be ranting and rude--trust me, I used to be a social justice snob. I applied to get my MPA at UW, for goodness sake! I was convinced that I need to use my power for good.

However, this utilitarian "policy-level-change-or-bust" mentality is severely restricting. More important, though, is to question of how it agrees with or comes against the will of God. What does the Lord think about this?

On a personal level, I have been reflecting deeply and praying about how God desires to use my life to effect justice in the world, to bring his kingdom to earth. And he's been breaking down my utilitarian mindset.

I am "smart." I can talk to other "smart" people and excel in the world of politically powerful, "smart" people (i.e. when I worked for King County). I'm sure I could exert plenty of influence on behalf of the disenfranchised on the policy level if I wanted to go that route.

But the most important question is: Is that what God is calling me to?

In May I received a word from God that due to the immensity of my giftings (i.e. being "smart"), there was a pressure for me to achieve much. The Lord said, "That is not my way for you. I have shoes for you that fit just right." Well, I just started crying when I heard that. What a relief! God was releasing me from the pressure to 'make it big' in the world to 'make the biggest difference possible.' He was releasing me from utilitarian ways of thinking and inviting me into kingdom ways of thinking.

I am convinced that God is aware of social justice in an intimate, nuanced way that only an omniscient God can. I am thus also convinced that he knows exactly how he is going to address it--and more specifically, how he would like us as individual believers to address it.

Let's not confuse the world's ways of dealing with social injustice with God's specific call for us to engage it. One-size-fits-all approaches to social justice work is total malarkey. And for those who buy into and perpetuate the culture of Christian utilitarianism--be careful!

For God has said,

"[M]y thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways... As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts" (Isaiah 55:8-9).

May God reveal his ways for you to address social injustice today!

Thanks, God!!

"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). 

On the war path

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?"

-John 5:1-6

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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.

Family

First vacation since entering the workforce in November of 2012? Absolute luxury. Spent a week in central Oregon with my mom's side of the family biking, jogging, eating and playing Bananagrams. Like, a lot. It was a really special time in light of my big move coming up in a couple of weeks.

As our family has really begun to show signs of aging in the past five years or so, the emotional stakes are increasing exponentially. When my cousin and I played and sang a send-off song for our great aunts and great uncle, we were surprised to find ourselves choked up and nearly unable to finish the final stanza. Although we sang, "until we meet again," our power to control whether we would actually see them in the near future, or if God decided to "take them home" before then, was totally out of our control.

Time is funny. Think about siblings... You spend practically all your time together growing up. Then marriage and kids hit and it gets tougher to get together. Then old age hits and due to disability it's a downright struggle to meet, especially when living across states. I got so sad watching my grandpa hug his lil' bro goodbye. I mean, he really doesn't and can't know if he'll ever see him again.

Enough sadness, though. What was really sweet this vacation was to see how all the younger (as in under 70 years of age) people pitched in to serve the elders. It felt so Asian; it was awesome. We had a buffet-style dinner at my grandparents' unit every night, and they got the place of honor at the table with my great aunties and great uncle. Since my grandma is in a wheelchair, others in the family would volunteer to make her plate and bring it to her. One time I was re-heating lunch leftovers and my great-aunt said to me, "That's really nice that you do that for your grandma." But to me I was like, "What?" I guess because we've been doing it for so long that it just feels natural.

I also loved the way in which the young people (as in my generation people) were really demonstrating being adults. It was so refreshing! We got to cook a big family meal together of "street tacos" three ways (pork, chicken and beef) with corn, grilled vegetables and two kinds of fresh salsa. To see that the rest of the family truly enjoyed the food was definitely a surprise. And talking late into the night with my cousins I understood that they, too, are thinking about Grandma and Grandpa and the fact that we don't know for how much longer they'll be in our lives.

I was struck by something my oldest cousin said. She said more or less that she had expected Grandma and Grandpa to go years back. Everything beyond that as been "gravy," she said.

Wow. Instead of feeling entitled to more time with Grandma and Grandpa, and maintaining a mentality of never wanting to let them go, she sees it as just a gift--a pure gift to have time, any time, with them now.

That sh1t is f*cking profound.

News of the Significant Kind

You know that last week of the school year, when class is basically a complete sham and all you do is sign yearbooks and watch movies and clean out your desk? I feel like that in a way right now, because one chapter of my life is closing and another one is beginning.

The non-profit I interned with in 2010 has extended an invitation for me to join their staff as Volunteer Coordinator starting in August. The current coordinator, Carolyn, will be returning to the States to enroll in graduate school, and I'll be taking her place. In other words, I'm moving to Mexico next month. I'm really, really looking forward to it.

In February of this year, before I'd even known about the job opening in Mexico, I had been looking through my old journals hoping it would give me some insight into where next to put my focus. The job I have currently as a secretary is great, don't get me wrong. My co-workers are friendly, it pays well and I more or less know what I'm doing. Yet ever since I started in November, I've always been cognizant of the fact that this job was not necessarily "the one" that would keep me happy and fulfilled for the rest of my life.

Just because my job paid well, though, I did not want to lose sight of my dreams and passion. I think about the book The Alchemist when Santiago, whose dream it was to leave Spain and visit the ancient pyramids, becomes sidetracked when he lands a job in a glass shop. He excels at being a salesman, and makes a lot of money, and it temporarily makes me forget about his dream. He is trapped by the justification of, tomorrow, tomorrow. I'll do it tomorrow.

So when I got the email about the job opening with Casa de los Angeles, I was freaking out a bit. Reading through my journal entries from Mexico had made me all wistful. I had up to that point been punching myself for forsaking my first love--international work--but didn't know quite how to get back there. And here was opportunity knocking at my door.

Shit! I thought to myself. Now why would God do this to me? Would he be so cruel as to dangle this tantalizing opportunity before me only to rip it away (see: graduate school)? So I was leery. What the hell, though. Might as well try it. I met all of the qualifications and then some.

I tried not to get my hopes too high up...but I couldn't deny the fact that as I drafted my cover letter I was sweating with a racing pulse realizing how well my passion, education and work experience matched the position.

Shit! Can you tell that when I get excited all I can do is swear?

Waited a week. Interviewed. Waited four days. Got an email from the founder requesting a phone call, purpose ambiguous. "We just have one more question to ask you. Would you like to come and join us as our Volunteer Coordinator?" I immediately teared up; I had been holding everything in so much it was like FINALLY, I can celebrate! *screams*

So that’s my big news. We’re trying to fill my current position in Seattle; that’s basically all I’m waiting on before I pack up and move. I’m hoping to live in Mexico for two years at minimum. I cannot emphasize enough to you that this is my dream come true. This is all I wanted—to live in-country, become part of a community, contribute to an organization that serves people in a way that I actually agree with and be happy, you know?

Shit! Is this actually going to happen? Thanks, God.

Feel free to leave questions in the comment section and I’ll work to answer them. I’ll be posting more about what the actual job entails soon.

Pinching myself.

(X)

Well, that's over.

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.

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[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.

[ii] I made a weird break-up YouTube playlist that is speaking to my soul, if you’re interested in listening. http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLasRvYvSQDcVvhbUhMetxz8jR6jAo6bVH

[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).

A Guide to Understanding My Sense of Humor

Primary
Ironic, non-sequitur (absurd), hyperbolic, self-deprecating

Secondary
Horrible puns, pop culture reference humor, goofy, witty, sarcastic

Tertiary
Morbid, demented, hysterical, dark, mocking

Rebellious Tirade

I've been feeling pretty uncomfortable lately, but I'd like to think that means that God is pushing me in a new and different direction. I think I'm still dealing with the disappointments and failures of the past year (post-graduation), and trying to maintain a hopeful attitude. Ever since graduation, I've been applying for lots of different things: service sector jobs, social work jobs, graduate school and now international work--but none of them have worked out so far (apart from my current job, which I didn't even technically apply for?--have to add that caveat).

It's kind of demoralizing to be on this roller coaster of applying, and then getting rejected, applying, and getting rejected again. I want things, but I don't get them.

That's why I'm really thinking hard about this opportunity to work in Mexico, and already trying to prepare myself for rejection. In many ways it would be a dream come true to return to San Miguel de Allende, which is why it'll be a real blow if I am not offered the position.

I have this messed-up idea that God is cruel and putting these dreams in my head (to go to graduate school, work abroad), only to not allow me to live those dreams. God denying me things. I've been thinking about that a lot lately.

When I was a young girl, I really wanted a Barbie car. I wanted to be able to cruise around in the back yard with my shades on like the white kids in the commercials did. I brought this to my parents' attention whenever the commercial came onto the television, asking them to get it for me. I circled the car repeatedly in the Toys R Us catalogs we received in the mail. I begged my parents...like, a lot. I wanted it.

My mom and dad were firm, though. No Barbie car for me. I'm sure I was a brat and sulked but they refused to be manipulated by my persistent pestering and whining.

To go to graduate school? I want that. To work abroad full-time again? I want that. To be in a committed romantic relationship with someone I respect deeply? I want that. *groan* When will God just give me what I want already???

My parents would probably be the first to tell you that patience is NOT one of my virtues. They told me growing up that they should have named me "Patience Yee" in order to mock me for my consistent, marked impatience. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr... God, I am sick of waiting! If this period of my life is your attempt to cultivate patience within me, can you PLEASE realize that your cause is lost? Are you trying to teach me that *your* timing, not mine, is perfect? *eyeroll* #bye

Obviously I'm going to come full-circle on this and end my rebellious tirade and surrender to God eventually but I still want to fight him on this for a little bit longer. I'm sick of having to defer my dreams.

Muddling through, but with panache?

Life post-college has been a journey of second-guessing my intuition, inclinations and ability to make decisions. Should I apply for this job or that job? Should I try for graduate school, and if so, which schools? Which programs?

And then, even when I get the job: Should I take it? When I'm working 40 hours a week at the job: Should I be looking for a different job? When I get accepted into graduate school: Should I enroll? When I decide not to enroll in graduate school: Is this an indefinite hiatus from higher learning or should I just try again next year?

I think to myself, I should feel liberated, free and excited that I have so many options before me--but I can't help but feel overwhelmed and a bit distressed. All these huge life choices of where to work, where to study, where to live involve stakes higher than I've ever known before and for once--because I'm an "adult"--these choices are fully mine. I'm making them for myself. I'm responsible for them. shit.

As I mull over potential jobs, schools and programs to study, I've noticed that a couple of my older, wiser mentors are perplexed that I doubt myself so much. If "the heart wants what the heart wants," why do I often assume that my "wants" and desires are selfish, misguided or just plain wrong?

Well, it's because when I've "listened to my heart" and gone fully with my "gut," it's sometimes gotten me into trouble. I'm talking about suffering and I'm talking about failure, both of which I go to great lengths to avoid at any cost. Early in college I was super pumped to work with Spanish-speaking folks, which led me to YouthCare's Casa de los Amigos--which was one of the darkest and difficult times of my life. When I graduated from college I was excited to look for jobs outside of social work--like working in retail or the food industry--but that was a complete bust. Why am I afraid of my own longings and passions? Because when I go for my dreams, it can--at times--be uncomfortable and discouraging.

Sometimes I pray those kinds of cop-out prayers to God: "Just show me EXACTLY what you want me to do, where you want me to go, and I'll go!" All this time self-reflecting and trying to "discern" and surrender all of my plans to God--it's just so murky! Ambiguous. Unresolved.

I'm going to keep trying to "listen to my heart" and not doubt myself so much. I'm going to go for the things that interest me and lay myself on the line, even if it means facing rejection and having to be flexible when the timing doesn't work out. You know, I wanna be fucking fearless.

I hope God rewards fearlessness.

Free to Be

Yesterday I received in the mail a bottle of "Riots Not Diets" 3-free indie nail polish from Plump Polish, a brand recently launched by fat activist bloggers Kyla and Margitte. Each of their fun and quirky colors are named after a different blogger ("Riots Not Diets" is the name of Margitte's blog) and include colorful confetti! I was surprised how excited I was to receive and try out new nail polish. Like, I was really delighted. Why do I find so much pleasure and solace and satisfaction in painting my nails? I don't really know. It's therapeutic to me, and that's all that matters.

So what if nail polish is a conformist way of performing my gender? So what if its unnatural-looking and artificial? It's one hour a week where I'm doing something utterly and completely mindless, where I don't have to analyze things or be intelligent and articulate and self-aware.

Last Saturday I attended a six-hour long retreat meant for a time of silence and listening to God. I fell asleep three times. It's so hard to transition from "work" April into praying April. I still feel like I need to be super competent, "on top of things," focused and "in the zone" when I'm with God. I feel like I need to be thankful for all of the right things, and praise him instead of being self-involved, and have all these deep questions for him, and know exactly how to express my needs and desires to him, and pay attention without my mind veering.

And yet the phrase from the Bible readings that stuck out to me most at the retreat was "just be there" (from Eugene Peterson's paraphrase of Matthew 6:6-7 in The Message).

Hm.

I've been considering to myself lately, "Who do I feel safe with?" Who do I feel safe enough with that my "just being there" is enough--I don't have to "perform to the best of my abilities"? In those safe relationships, I can exhale mentally because there is no performance compenent to our relationship. I'm not expected to be my "best self." I'm just expected to be myself.

Whew, I cannot wait to spend time with Rachel tonight so that I can just be me. ilu, Rachel. Happy Friday, everyone!

The Timing's a Bit Off...

"A Dream Deferred" by Langston Hughes

What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet? Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load. Or does it explode?

-------------------------------------

This has been a really weird past couple of months--just kind of uncomfortable overall. Do we ever stop coming of age? Like seriously. I want to know. Growing pains. Ugh.

My Academic Future

I'm sad to say that this fall I will not be enrolling in graduate school as I had anticipated. Last fall, despite some doubts and misgivings, I decided to apply to the UW Evans School for their Master of Public Administration program, figuring that if it was "meant to be," God would make "everything fall into place," as it were. Well, as my dad put it last night "the puzzle pieces just aren't aligning." It's a bit sad to admit defeat, but I keep trying to tell myself that it isn't defeat, but a delay. There's a difference between the two.

Although I was offered admission to the program, I did not receive any merit-based financial awards, which, you know, makes sense. The program is competitive. I guess I'd naively thought that it would work out, but without a merit-based scholarship, financially I just can't swing it. I've spent the past few weeks moping and feeling sorry for myself at the thought of continuing to work full time for another year and a half, but I'm hoping to be able to "get over it" and "get on with it" soon.

I'm learning a lot at my current position, not just skills wise, but socially and personally. I can see the benefit of having some "on the job" experience before immersing myself into academia again. Thankfully, my division is undergoing some systems/culture changes that are will be interesting to participate in. We're looking at how we can function better as a division (two continuous improvement retreats on the way), and I've recently joined our department's Equity and Social Justice Leadership Team, with the goal of providing trainings for staff, similar to the Race and Social Justice work I did with the Seattle Housing Authority.

I think mostly what was bumming me out about work was this letdown from college. I'm not surrounded by like-minded peers like I was at the School of Social Work. I don't have the luxury of leisure time. I'm basically out of the house Monday through Friday from 6:30am until 5:40pm, and that's the way it is. It's making more sense now, why adults say that the college years were "the best of their life." To have fifteen hours of lecture a week and the rest be free time that I decide how to spend? Fking luxury, mayn.

That being said, I'm becoming more "at peace" with not getting what I wanted (grad school) when I wanted it (fall 2013). I'm starting to take pride in the fact that, come next year, I'll have saved up all of my big girl dollars to pay for school and living expenses all by myself. I think that social workers were onto something with the whole "empowerment theory" versus dependency. It feels good to be on my way towards self-sufficiency. BUH-BAYUM.