Reflections on 2016

Originally shared at my church's Christmas Eve service.


Good evening. For those who don't know me, my name is April, and I have been attending this church since I was born—I'm what you might call a "lifer." No, but really, I am proud to call Presby home and this year especially I am grateful to be a part of this community—because I could have gotten into some real trouble if not for the grace of God in my life.. I almost made a mistake that could have seriously harmed me and probably would have changed my life forever.

This year I had planned to move to South America to do what I thought would be missionary work: entering into full-time ministry with a local church in Bolivia evangelizing, interceding and teaching. I had a lot of hopes and dreams to glorify God there.

However, a couple months before I had planned to leave, I found out from a couple of friends who were serving that that "church" that the "church" was actually a pretty psychologically and emotionally abusive cult. My friends were not allowed to leave the "church" (where they lived) without supervision, were bullied aggressively by pastors whenever they questioned the way things were run, and my one friend was even locked into the kitchen alone without promise of release. It was a horrific time, and thankfully my two friends left the Bolivian "church" shortly thereafter, around the same time I decided not to go down and join them.

As you might imagine, I spent much of this year coming to terms with this whole fiasco. The main question I had for God was, of course, "Why?"--but also the immediate question of "What now?" I had quit my job! I had been hurtling toward what I had thought was an international ministry opportunity "from God" and now needed to, in many respects, turn on a dime and change course.

I was disappointed and hurt, and felt very confused about God's direction in my life. I didn't know what to do, and God wasn't giving me epiphanies on how he wanted me to "recalculate," as it were. I spent time in reflection and prayer to God, pouring out my heart to him as it's written in Psalm 62. To be fair, though, I also spent a lot of time trying to be numb and trying to survive, in an attempt to ignore my pain and anger towards God for how un-glamorous and stuttering my life had become.

One theme from this year is pretty clear: God has invited me again and again to trust him—to believe he is everything he says he is, taking into full account my painful past, my present shaky circumstances and even my own negative feelings, no matter how strong and all-encompassing they may be.

There were many days this year when my alarm went off in the morning and I just did not want to get out of bed. I didn't feel like I had the energy or the will to face another day. To get motivated, I would sometimes listen to my gospel playlist, which has a song by James Fortune called "I Trust You." The chorus deeply resonates with me and I wanted to share it with you tonight: "I'll trust you/ Lord it's not easy/ Sometimes the pain in my life/ Makes you seen far away/ I'll trust you/ I need to know you're here/ Through the tears and the pain/ Through the heartache and rain/ I'll trust you."

I still don't know a lot of the "whys" behind the whole Bolivia debacle. I'm not yet at a place where I can genuinely thank God for that trial which has tested my faith significantly this year, and brought a fair share of heartache and despair.

However, there are a few things I can say with certainty and conviction:

1. God warned me and protected me from going to Bolivia; he loves me.
2. It's not over; God is still writing my story.
3. Jesus Christ is Lord.

Jesus Christ is Lord. This truth has helped me a lot this year and comforts me greatly.

For me, no matter what happens, no matter how difficult things get, no matter how little things may make sense in the moment, no matter my own helplessness or God's seeming silence—

Jesus Christ is Lord.

In the midst of failure, embarrassment, mistakes and crippling self-doubt—

Jesus Christ is Lord.

When I am lost and don't know what to do—

Jesus Christ is Lord.

"In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it" (John 1:4-5).

Reboot

So I'm back to blogging! Hooray! Shut down the site for a bit while I was job searching (prospective employers would probably have been understandably alarmed/concerned if they had perused my social media accounts), but now that I've been hired, I figure I'm more or less in the clear now (though, jury's always still out; I'm an at-will employee).

It's been quite an interesting journey, these past four months of unemployment followed by a month of temporary employment followed by what will (hopefully) be a year of term-limited temporary employment. There's been plenty of time for soul-searching and tears, but thankfully it appears that the worst of the crisis is over. I may not ever fully understand the "whats" and "whys" of the entire Bolivia debacle, but I'm just so glad that chapter is now more or less over. It was definitely scary, and I still cringe knowing that three of my friends are still in that "church," being psychologically and spiritually taken advantage of in a very icky way. Yet, in order to cope, I have had to face the fact that since they do not want to leave, and I have done my part to try and convince them otherwise, the situation must be left in God's hands. I have had to relinquish responsibility and trust that the eventual arc of their lives will bend towards wholeness, wellness and healing, though for the present it is not.

Adulthood can be disorienting at times. I've had so many folks give me well-meaning yet disparate advice of what I should do and how I should live my life, but when it came to Bolivia, and the choices I had to make afterwards, there came a point where I just had to decide to do something and live with the consequences. Bolivia eroded a lot of my self-confidence, especially in my intuition, judgment and discernment. However, living life at a standstill, paralyzed and afraid of making the "wrong" choice, I found, was simply impractical.

I am wary of religious perfectionism, which requires that each and every personal decision made must be tested and approved as the explicit "will of God." This requires much agonizing, weighing of options, and hours of prayer devoted to receiving "confirmation" or God's "blessing" on moving forward with something. Is life really that spiritual? Yes, there is absolutely Biblical precedent for asking God for guidance and direction for important decisions (2 Chronicles 20:12; Acts 13:1-3), but I just am highly skeptical that this level of intense scrying is altogether necessary. God obviously intervenes when there is, in fact, a "wrong" choice to be made (case in point: me returning to Bolivia). However, is every little choice and decision judged in a moral/spiritual scale, implying there are gradations of spiritualized choices, with God keeping score? I've decided this is a miserable way to live, full of regret for what could have been, and fear of what could be (see the psychic headache that is The Adjustment Bureau). Thus, I've nixed this approach to life.

I'm also wary of the other extreme, self-protective human secularism, i.e. taking matters into my own hands and barreling forward in life assuming God approves/I know his will absolutely. This would mean "running after" food, clothing and housing (a la Matthew 6:28-34) as ends in themselves and winding up a materialistic, "self-made" woman. It would also require a certain amount of hard-heartedness towards God (relationship with him is implied/assumed rather than deep/actual), which I'm not willing to stomach. Again, hard pass.

My latest strategy has mostly just been to not really take things so seriously or overthink them. I can be intense, perfectionistic and exacting; so in other words, I'm trying to "lighten up." I'm just trying to respond to situations as they occur and make peace with the fact that I won't always get things right the first time. I'm seeing that there's a lot of safety in knowing God and belonging to him. Sure, due to my own choices, I can get myself into a lot of trouble. That's always going to be a possibility. Yet, having made it out of a couple of pretty dramatic tough scrapes so far, God's care and faithfulness is undeniable.

Is this what it feels like to "wing it"?

Taking Off in Prayer

This post is part of a continuing series about the School of Christ in Cochabamba, Bolivia. All posts will be tagged "Bolivia." Read all Bolivia posts here.

As you may already be aware, a part of the daily rhythm of the School of Christ is praying for two hours every day (from 6:00am-7:00am and 6:30pm-7:30pm, respectively), no exceptions (not even on Sunday!). I must say, this was actually one of my favorite parts of the school. But it wasn't at first.

I think many friends and family of mine can attest to the fact that I am not a morning person. In the evenings I lay out my clothes, pack my lunch and purse so that when I wake up, I can get dressed and go without having to "think." I've got it down to a science: once I get the wherewithal to actually get out of bed, I can be ready on 20 minutes (leaving maximum time to sleep).

So when on the first morning of the school we were woken up with a piercing siren not unlike a dormitory fire alarm, followed by a voice on a megaphone yelling, "Get up, get up, get up!"* I groaned and grumbled to myself, "It figures." It would still be dark outside at 6:00am when I would enter the classroom to pray and by the time we concluded the sun would be up, illuminating the high, snow-capped mountain peaks that surrounded us on every side.

The style of prayer at the school is very much different from the kind of "typical" prayer in an American Presbyterian church (which is the tradition I grew up in). Whereas in the States, most corporate prayer is led by one person praying over a microphone with everyone else agreeing silently until the "Amen," prayer at the school can, at the outset, appear to be a disorderly, cacophonous mess.

A strong memory I have of prayer is walking in at 6:00am (I was usually one of the last to arrive because I was herding in my fellow roommates to get there on time, see my older blog post for more info.), and the first thing I noticed is the low-grade sound of murmuring. You see, in the School of Christ, everyone prays out loud at the same time. For an hour.

Add to that baseline layer of whispered/spoken prayers (1) the oftentimes assertively loud worship music in Spanish being transmitted by large amplifier speakers (one at the front of the classroom and one at the back), and (2) the prayers of the pastor on the microphone up front and well, it's a party!!! I can't imagine what it was like for my teammates that didn't know Spanish; at least I could understand the lyrics of the songs (and even sang along with a few that were also popular at my church in Mexico) and could follow along and agree with the pastors' intercession up front.

     

In the School there were about three different options for physical postures of prayer: on your knees with your face to the ground, kneeling over a chair or standing. That first week I found myself standing quite a bit because, well, if I hadn't been standing, I would have straight up fallen asleep in those intensive morning sessions. One morning as I slowly got down onto my knees to pray, I sighed into the ground and said out loud to the Lord, "Okay... Here we go." Little did I realize that my teammate Heather was nearby, listening. She laughed out loud. I'll tell you this, prayer at 6:00am is not glamorous! At first I was seriously dragging to get there. But by week three I would walk into the room, that low-grade murmuring would hit my ears and I would be comforted. And then I'd get down on my knees and get to work.

Pastor Fernando, who taught for the first week, explained to us early on that praying in the Spirit is like a plane taking off. He even conceded that sometimes the first 45 minutes can seem utterly fruitless, and a struggle to concentrate and focus on God. "But when you take off..." he explained, with somewhat of a wistful look, "That is when you soar with God." He added further that prayer in the Spirit does not necessarily take on a certain "form" outwardly. Some students would yell out in prayer, cry, weep, groan. Yes, Pastor Fernando affirmed, this can be praying in the Spirit, but even someone who is completely still and silent, they too can be praying in the Spirit. "I can just look at people and know," he explained. There's no getting past him!! :)

For me, praying in the Spirit was like going underwater. It was immersive. I would just submerge myself in prayer, not opening my eyes once until the pastor said "Amén" an hour later. Sometimes I would have lots to say to God but other times I would run out of things to say and just worship him the rest of the time. I would wait before him in silence, thanking him. Sometimes the Holy Spirit would bring to mind a certain passage from scripture, or a picture, or a brief little phrase. Sometimes he would highlight a mindset or actions that I needed to repent of. Sometimes he would break my heart to pray for someone in particular. Other times I didn't really have a clue what God was doing in that hour other than sanctification in general terms. But I knew something was happening.

After most prayer sessions I would check-in with my teammate DeAndrea, trading notes on what God had been speaking to us. We were in total agreement that in that first week with Pastor Fernando, the presence of God filled that classroom in such a sweet and powerful way that it was undeniable. "It almost makes you sway," DeAndrea observed. I mean, it really did hit you when you entered the room.

One of my favorite memories from the school is when, one evening for prayer, Fernando asked those who had a special calling from God over their lives to come forward. "You know who you are," he said, with a serious look on his face, referring to those over whom he had prayed earlier in the week (during prayer he would usually set down the mic and then go to pray for people as the Holy Spirit led him). Of course, then just everyone in the school pretty much got up and stood in the front (I mean, who doesn't want to be chosen?) but he reiterated again, "I'm going to pray for those with a special calling in God, those on whom he will place his burden on and use in a significant way."

So everyone began to pray (that comforting thrum resuming again), and Pastor Fernando started "making the rounds." I realized, however, that many of the American team wouldn't be able to understand what he was praying because they haven't studied Spanish. So I started following him around, interpreting his prayers so they knew what he was saying. And man, I would just cry as I was translating because God was truly using Pastor Fernando to bless my American brothers and sisters! Through the Holy Spirit Pastor Fernando spoke such words of insight into folks' hearts, things that could only come through revelation--and they were such specific words of truth, love and encouragement that one after another would break down in tears as he prayed. God was healing them and building them up spiritually before my very eyes.

So like that airplane, praying was a struggle to start and get going (especially in the mornings)... But once I got into the rhythm of it, I grew to treasure it. It was, in fact, one of the only opportunities I had to "be alone" with God (albeit in a group of a bunch of people but trust me, I am and expert at blocking noises out). I would just get "in the zone." And afterwards I would frequently leave the room, remarking to DeAndrea, "That was just nuts..."

"And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the saints" (Ephesians 6:18).

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*Thankfully after the first morning they used the doorbell to wake us up from then on.

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.

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). 

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.

---

[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).

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.

Let there be light

The tragic shooting in Connecticut has left me thinking a lot about the perpetration of violence and how awful people can be to each other. Big, dramatic things like the shooting make me think about all of the other (relatively) little things that have been happening over time, and it's like, Wow, violence is just constant. From hearing about assaults on women in NewHolly to that gang shooting in Skyway with an innocent boy killed in the crossfire, sometimes it feels relentless.

These problems aren't "fixable." That's what's so frustrating about it. Stricter gun control laws aren't magically going to end violence, even if by some miracle they were passed and enforced nation-wide. As with drugs, illegalizing something more often than not simply creates a black market that's just as vibrant and thriving.

Society is sick. Typical news fodder these days is all about speculating about the Connecticut gunman: Why did he do it? How could this have been prevented? I know people are heartbroken and want to do something, but policy-wise, it's already a clusterf**k.

1. Deinstitutionalization. Since our nation decided it was "unethical" to keep people with severe mental health diagnoses "penned up" in mental hospitals, outpatient treatment (even if it's involuntary) is inadequate at best. This article sums up the complexity of the MH system pretty well. 
2. Gun control. Just think about all of the people already that posess guns (with a license, I'm not even talking about illegal aquisitions). Even if guns were to be banned for commercial sale, there's still be that many guns out there, okay? It's like prescription drugs--guns are super easy to access; just tap a family member's "stash." There will still be hella guns even with strict gun control! K. Just think about it.
3. Is this a gender issue? The perpetrators of violent shootings resorted to that form of violence because they "couldn't deal," or so it seems to be the case. Re the Huffington Post article above: "According to Mother Jones, since 1982, 61 mass murders involving firearms have occurred throughout the country. Of these, 43 of the killers were white males, and only one was a woman." Could it be that men, socialized not to express emotions (or de-incentivized to express emotions) haven't the skills nor the socially-acceptable outlets of frustration that women have? Have they been socialized to use violence as a means to express themselves? To be honest, this is frightening. Again, HUGE cultural/systemic issue here that can't be fixed with a wave of a wand.

I don't mean to be a downer nihilist, but violence of this nature is not new. Granted, the maginitude may seem shocking and graphic, but how can we forget the many underreported genocides that have occurred throughout history and are occurring today? (0_0) I wouldn't necessarily consider myself a doomsday enthusiast, but I've kind of resigned myself to the fact that there will always be a certain amount of horrible, awful things happening somewhere in the world at any given time. So I'm not, like, shocked when people post headlines of atrocious happenings on their Facebook timeline.

This past Sunday at church our worship leader had us stand up and hold hands with the people next to us while we sang the closing songs of the morning's service. I was legitimately crying, man. I mean, we live in a world where men massacre seven year olds and girls in Africa undergo genital mutilation and vulnerable teens are sex trafficked and yet--and in bold defiance of these atrocities, 200+ people stood hand in hand in a sanctuary singing praise to God.

Cuz, you see...even though there are days when it feels like violence and chaos are going to take over everything I hold dear, I am of the persuasion that in the long run, love will prevail. Just as long as people continue to be brave and forbid that tragedy turn them into bitter and cynical people, there is hope yet.

"The Life-Light blazed out of the darkness; the darkness couldn't put it out" (John 1, MSG).

Post-GRE Catharsis Post

AHHHH words cannot express how elated I am to be done with the GRE! I prepped for three weeks off & on, did four practice tests and have been waking up at 6:30ish for the past seven days (ugh, it was TORTURE) cuz I had to get to the testing center by 7:30AM today.

It's always crazy scary to embark on high-stakes endeavors, like when I decided to go live in Mexico for ten weeks. So trying to get into graduate school it's like WAAAAHHHH, please let me not mess this up. There's a lot riding on this. And it's tough to be honest with myself but really really I am so excited at the possibility of being in UW's MPA program, but I'm trying to temper my excitement just in case I don't get in this time 'round. They only admit 220 students a year!

But ya know what? I'm not eaten up with anxiety or fear of being rejected. I figure that if I'm not ready for the program, then I'm not ready. I'll redirect--keep looking for a job and do all of this soul-searching/discerning all over again. As much as it seems that peeps may lock into a profession and ride it out until retirement, I'm kind of excited that my generation basically hops onto whatever--I mean, seriously, opportunist much? ;) I'd like to think of it as a form of flexibility and spontaneity and adaptability.

Anyway, I had a point that I was going to get to. These high-stakes moments where I'm doing something kinda crazy and out of my control are the moments where I'm just smacked in the face with the reality of how loved and supported and blessed I am. I'm so thankful to have a big huge TEAM of people that pray for me and text me to ask me how things went. Like, it does loads for my peace of mind and self-confidence and makes me feel so warm and fuzzy inside! I mean, here are some examples:

• My aunt and uncle lent me their laptop for a week so that I could do practice tests (mine was incompatible)
• My parents paid for the cost of taking the GRE and emphasized that they believed in me, and not to put so much pressure on myself because it cost so much
• My grandma kept asking me every Tuesday how it went, until the actually Tuesday of the test when she called me and told me to watch "Modern Family" to relax afterwards
• My peers (Lydia, Faith, Hillary, Rachel) and my family (my aunts and uncles, cousins, parents, grandparents) were all praying for me, even though I know their schedules are already packed 
• My parents took me out to dinner at the RAM to celebrate

All I can really do in response is say THANK YOU, LORD, THANK YOU, GOD, THANK YOU, LORD. Everything went well this morning. I was able to roll out of bed with plenty of time, enough to enjoy a nutritious fiber-filled breakfast (oatmeal) and prepare my thermos of chai. Traffic was virtually non-existent and I arrived with 20 minutes to spare. During the actual test I didn't get frazzled, even though some of the questions definitely stymied me. And the cherry on top: My multiple-choice scores were higher than I got on any of the four practice tests. Ugh, so much #winning, I don't know what to do with myself. I AM NOT USED TO SO MUCH SUCCESS WITHOUT AN EQUALLY PROPORTIONATE AMOUNT OF STRUGGLE.

All I can say is that this has to be by the grace of God alone. Admittedly there have been plenty of moments in the past months full of flailing and anguish and discouragement. But this one good day--wow, I'm going to hang onto it. I'm just so happy that no matter what I can just enjoy life because I'm supported unconditionally and my life is in the hands of a God that is ordering my life "just so."

Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you. Show me the way I should go, for to you I lift my soul. Teach me to do your will, for you are God; may your good Spirit lead me on level ground.

Psalm 143

My Answer to Your Question Would Be...

What do you enjoy doing? What would be your ideal job? Do you want to continue with social work?

These are the questions that haunt me. Even with all of the soul-searching and journaling and praying and counseling I really feel as clueless as ever. I seriously don't know what I enjoy doing. I used to think that it was "helping people" but that cotton candy cloud of abstract idealism revolts me now. I thought that being in the helping arena would soothe my sorrows because at least I would be contributing to the well-being of my fellow man but it's left me more discouraged and disheartened than ever. 

You know what sucks? Admitting defeat. I'm confused nowadays because I'm not sure whether I should just totally walk away from the social work thing or try and reframe my approach to it (i.e. think of myself less as a savior of the wretched masses). I know that social work seems like a good fit because I'm a compassionate person and I genuinely care. At the same time, it's this same deep compassion that makes me consumed with rage and anger when the people I care about are wronged. 

Let's explore the notion of vengeance. Think about superheroes--they protect vulnerable people from, like, aliens and shit. You know, big whoop. Then they have a big showdown with some nefarious criminal mastermind and duke it out until the bad guy just happens to fall off a cliff/get run over by a train/destroyed by his own weapons/take your pick. Endings to stories like these are satisfying because the cause of evil (bad guy) has been removed--may the world rejoice and good riddance!

Well, this leads me to talk about how deeply unsatisfying it is to be in social work. First of all, I don't get to carry out revenge. So, right off the bat I have to accept that I will never get to indulge my vigilantist compulsions. It's not plausible nor ethical to do so, according to my beliefs. "Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: 'It is mine to avenge; I will repay,' says the Lord" (Romans 12:9). So basically, I have to wait until "closing time" (i.e. the final judgment of the world) for perpetrators to get what they deserve. In the meantime, the world is not going to be "made right" from the "top down"--you can't force people to be decent to each other, that's just another form of tyranny and oppression. And you can't "make it right" by just killing all of the evil people, either. Oh, ho ho. All this to say that this whole life, this whole world is going to be a mixed bag of good and evil until the day we die. See The Parable of the Weeds.

Another thing that's frustrating about social work is that you're always fighting on (what seems to be) the losing side. Right? I mean, life has not been kind to this unemployed, Latino, gay, HIV-positive, chemically dependent, clinically depressed man with a history of sexual abuse (this is literally a case I saw in a community mental health clinic). Wow, like, I want to stand in solidarity with these beaten-down underdog people but seriously, they are always #losing. For these peeps, small victories mean getting a freaking week's worth of diapers or some milk through WIC. Sometimes I just think "damn." There are so many barriers and so many things going against them. It's like, man, there's no way in hell that this is going to turn around. And yet these are the "cases" a person in social work sees day after day after day. I mean, this is plenty enough to drive anyone crazy. 

So what would it take to get me back into social work? It's been a couple of years since I've had an actually positive experience (Hogar de los Angeles in Mexico). To be perfectly honest, you'd have to drag me kicking and screaming back into the arena...

into the realm of the silent victims.

I got that phrase a couple of months ago and was like, "Oooh, that just gives me shivers." 

Not gonna lie, it is fking DARK working with the oppressed. Like, I have witnessed some serious evil. Like a ball of dread and overwhelm and hopelessness. Like, OMG this is going to swallow me whole if I don't get my shit together.

The answer, then? I will take the plunge back into social work IF AND ONLY IF it's Jesus Christ himself that invites me, and even then I'd seriously have fears, doubts and reservations. So ya, that's where I'm at.

Who's Calling?

"Always hope for the best but prepare for the worst."

-the fortune of one of the most depressing fortune cookies I've ever consumed

As graduation approaches, I've been thinking and praying and thinking more and more about what direction to head in next. It was simple and easy to outright reject the option of getting a Masters degree in social work. (Gross.) Apart from that, though, I've really had to no idea about where to pour all of my energies. I would apply for something if I knew that's what I actually wanted or if that was what God wanted for me, but it's been pretty vague and the clock is ticking down. Three weeks and then---I literally have nothing lined up for me besides maybe possibly a Peace Corps assignment in a year.

So of course my first instinct is to get all introspective and pray about God's "calling" for me. A couple of weeks ago I received this word from God during a church women's retreat:

You're blessed when your commitment to God provokes persecution. The persecution drives you even deeper into God's kingdom. 

-Eugene Peterson's paraphrase of Matthew 5:10 via The Message

HAH. Wow, thanx, God. You really know how to lift a girl's spirits. Anyway, it got me thinking about how I've been reluctant to really bear all and give up my entire future to God's hands because I am afraid to suffer for his sake. It actually makes me anxious and fills me with dread. Um, I've had a taste of what it's like to share Christ's sufferings and it was dark and icky and uncomfortable. Yuck. No, no, no, no, no, no, NO--THANKS.

So I'm trying to get "unstuck" from this mentality of resistance. This whole process has revealed to me how selfish my motives are in following Jesus (I'll take the peace, comfort, personal purpose and meaning without the cost and sacrifice) and I'm thinking to myself, "Wow, do I really deep down actually want to know who Jesus is?" Hah, because it's starting to become very clear that actual deep fellowship with Christ means sharing in his sufferings (see Philippians 3:10-11).

Waah, I just want to be coddled for the rest of my life. God, wrap me in a cocoon if ignorance from the tragedy, brokenness and evil of the world until I die, okay? I've had enough exposure to people's heartbreaking trauma. Nooooo, why did you make me sensitive so that I feel things???

I've been reading The Cost of Discipleship by Dietrich Bonhoeffer lately and it's been a good wake up call from all of my inner musings, angst and evasion of confrontation with the living, terrifying, true God. ;) I've been thinking of complete surrender to God and letting go of certainty and control as submission to a life of intermittent misery and pain. Pretty bleak, right? But the thing about Bonhoeffer is that he keeps pointing people to Jesus Christ. Yes, there's a cost. Yes, there's suffering...yet it's all about Christ. That's it. Game over.

Self-denial is never just a series of isolated acts of mortification or asceticism. It is not suicide, for there is an element of self-will even in that. To deny oneself is to be aware only of Christ and no more of self, to see only him who goes before and no more the road which is too hard for us. Once more, all that self denial can say is: "He leads the way, keep close to him" (88). 

So instead of agonizing over the specifics of my future, or trying to make comprehensive cost-benefit analyses of possible next steps, my focus of late has been to try and really get a better sense of who this Jesus guy is. Who is this Christ who is asking me to suffer for his sake?--who is inviting me into deeper communion with him through persecution?

Only in that context will I be able to hear his call in the first place, and then, hopefully, to obey.

(re)Discovering My Creative Side, (re)Considering My Vocation

Creativity. Artistry. Imagination. Passion.

I've been reading a memoir by Madeleine L'Engle called Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art. Since entering the School of Social Work, I've been completely consumed with the "immediate reality" of a  broken and suffering world, and have had little time to be creative, imaginitive or artistic. Artistic expression at times seems "impractical" and separate from the real world, but I'm starting to see that to be an artist is to follow a prophetic calling. Sometimes it's only through poetry, a melody, the movement of the human body in dance that the true reality of the human condition surfaces, captivates and inspires.

During this sabbatical I'm really asking myself, "Why am I doing what I am doing?" Is social work really something that I want to do? Am I even enjoying it anymore? 

While I'm at school there's this urgent, almost desperate sense that if we as social workers don't get out there and do something about poverty, oppression, trauma, etc. then the world will end. It's a guilt trip gone horribly wrong. I know that I want to lead a meaningful life, to love as best as I can and "be on the side of the underdog," as it were...but not to the point of utter self-depletion and despair.

What is God calling me to? How can I be faithful to his call? More and more I am beginning to see that he is not asking me to be a super heroic martyr and change millions of lives for the better. I have to trust that the work, the community he sets before in each season of life is exactly where he wants me to be. My worth as a Christ-follower does not come from my "successes" (client or situational "improvement"--i.e. improved test scores, financial stability, liberation/"empowerment"), because so much is out of my control. What counts is the effort and the intention behind the effort, which should always be love: love for God and love for others.

I recently finished up Henri Nouwen's Sabbatical Journey, the journal of his time away from his "work" with the mentally handicapped. He just really brings it all home, back to the heart of things, the heart of Jesus.

"A Democratic senator was pondering how to influence people the most--as a politician who is able to introduce laws that can help millions of people, or as a minister who continues to offer hope and consolation to people in their daily struggle?...

For me it is not a question of how we can most influence others. What matters is our vocation. To what or whom are we called? When we make the effect of our work the criterion of our sense of self, we end up very vulnerable. Both the political and ministerial life can be responses to a call. Both too can be ways to acquire power. The final issue is not the result of our work but the obedience to God's will, as long as we realize the God's will is the expression of God's love" (205).

I Have a Dream..

 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.

Spring! Give me more (allergy) MEDS!!!

Sunday marked the first day of Spring and for ONCE it was sunny today! Despite my intense allergies to any/all tree & flower pollens in the northwest, I stopped at Seward Park to walk the 2.5 mile loop on the shores of Lake Washington. It reminded me of when I was a freshman in college, back when I had the time to take long, solitary walks on the Burke-Gilman Trail.

The good thing about walks is that it gives you time to think about things that maybe you've put off thinking about--or, conversely, to think about nothing. I was thinking about my current doubts about the benevolence of God and his promise to be "always with us" and to "never forsake us." I'm still puzzling over the experiences I've had and the people I've met that seem to contradict all of this.

At this point I'd be basically lying if I forced myself to believe that there's always a "bigger picture" in the suffering, loneliness, feelings of abandonment, desperation, darkness & imprisonment. And I'm not even going to touch the whole argument that the "bad things" of the world exist so that God's "goodness" can be shown through him rescuing us from them. I mean, cuz if God's "goodness" is dependent on him rescuing people from destruction and death, then he'd be f'd (insert any example of someone living or dead who epitomizes tragedy).

It's just all swirling around me--this great mystery of me not understanding what God's up to in all his "plans" and workings for humanity. My biggest question to God right now is, "Dude, what are you THINKING???"