Catch up

So, it's been a while! Where do I even begin? I guess I can start by saying that I'm going to graduate school on the East Coast.

What?!

Yeah, I know. I decided to be pretty private about the whole thing because I wasn't sure if I'd be accepted to any of the schools I applied to or if I would ultimately decide to enroll. It's honestly been such an emotional rollercoaster, but I'm grateful for all of it.

"We'll see...."

The past six months have been a lesson in taking steps of faith and being surprised by the result. I decided to apply to graduate school out of a hunger to learn more, to build some quantitative skills, and to explore the possibility of pivoting from public administration to public policy research. Call me a delusional idiot but I only applied to some of the best policy schools in the nation (but was prudent enough to not even try for UChicago and Berkeley; they quant too hard for this chick). My reasoning was, if I get rejected from each and every school, that's a clear signal from God that heading in this direction was clearly not meant to be.

Writing application essays was pretty great; I like writing and being self-reflective, so it didn't feel like a chore though I did exert my best effort in composing them. It forced me to answer the questions of Why do I want this? and Do I really want this? I'd like to think I constructed some compelling arguments.

But the waiting... Oh my word. There was a two-month delay until I heard back from one school, then I waited another two months to hear back from the other two. I didn't spend every single day in self-doubt and self-recrimination over my application materials, but let's be real, it crossed my mind on a regular basis.

Schools these days deliver their admissions decisions in such a needlessly stressful way. All three schools sent an automated, neutrally-worded email directing me to log into their application portal. In the ten seconds that elapsed between clicking the link, logging in and viewing the admissions decision, my heart was about to explode out of my chest!! When I received the offer of admission from each school, I immediately popped up from my desk and roamed the halls, looking for Pat (my certified "work mom" who completed letters of recommendation for me). I think I had a crazed look in my eye because coworkers would stop me and ask, "Are you okay?" With shaky breath I would assure them so, all the while thinking, where the hell was Pat???! I couldn't wait to tell her.

Those moments were absolutely surreal. I was living in a dream... And then the financial reality hit.

The true meaning of "cost prohibitive"

I'm not saying that I recommend this method, but as I decided which schools to apply to, I decided not to dwell too much on the total costs of each program, thinking I would cross that bridge when I came to it. My logic was that if God was going to open the door, there would be some sort of financial aid package that would lessen the enormous blow of the cost of living and tuition. Also, why prematurely sweat the costs of a program to which I might not even be admitted?

In other words, I assumed things would simply work out. I mean, things ultimately did "work out," but not in the straightforward way that my mind assumed they would.

Once I received the offers of admission, I started to crunch the numbers, and my jaw dropped all the way to the floor. What even the hell was I thinking? In the words of my mentor Terry, "I mean, I know you've saved, but not that much!" We both laughed at that because, well, it's true.

Graduate school is a foreign world to me. In a purely Utilitarian sense, I wasn't sure if the net benefits exceeded the net costs. I started asking around, and had no shortage of friends and family with their own "debt stories": how they decided to take the plunge and whether they ultimately regretted it. I also started to conduct research in earnest into these three programs, reviewing the curriculum (testing for rigor and relevancy), grilling current students and reading up on faculty. I came to the conclusion that I could not make an informed decision without going out and physically visiting each of the three schools for their admitted student events.

"Comparative perspective"

Let's just say that New York, Providence and Cambridge are all very, very different places. I had a blast exploring, observing cultural norms and comparing public transportation systems (fun fact: I had never been to any of these places before). The programs themselves were also quite varied. "So have you completed your aggregate scoring of all three schools based on multiple criteria?" my coworker Gretchen inquired. "I haven't set the weighted scores just yet," I joked. No such spreadsheet exists, but you can be assured that I was keeping a mental score of each program's strengths and weaknesses, and it was changing by the day.

Despite three months of lead-up filled with agonizing over the enrollment decision, it wasn't that tough to make in the end. I'm old enough to know that there's no "perfect" program that's made "just for me," but taking the major factors into account, listening to to my heart and observing multiple signs of confirmation from God, Brown was the one.

Joyous liminality

I leave for Providence on May 30! I'm in that unique in-between place of wrapping up things at work, reflecting on the past, thanking God for the blessings of the present, mourning leaving Seattle and the people I love, and lining up all the practicalities of a cross-country move. In all this God has faithfully provided.

"Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy. [S]he who goes out weeping, carrying seeds to sow, will return with songs of joy, carrying sheaves with [her]" (Psalm 126:6).

I've definitely gone through difficult times in the past, but I'm grateful for times like these: of plenty, favor, joy and adventure.

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)

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

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)

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.

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.

Thankful

One of the perks (among many) of being a young person is having a continual sense of how transitory and fleeting everything is. Like, not in a morbid or Buddhist sense per se but in a grateful way. It's hit me lately that the things I enjoy today, I may not be enjoying five years from now.

For example, my parents and I hosted an Oscars viewing party on Sunday evening and invited my grandparents and my uncle and aunt over. We've done a lot of things like this over the years--had people over to watch football games or other random crap. Nevertheless, I was very thankful for the gathering, just because I don't know how much longer my grandparents will be able to travel, or how much longer I'll be living at home with my parents. I made a huge pot of chili with brown rice and my favorite braised collard greens recipe. My aunt brought over spaghetti with multigrain noodles. My grandparents brought delicious fried chicken from Skyway. It's the same thing we've done time and again and yet I was very grateful for it.

Or I was thinking about how special it was to get together with my close girl friends the day after Valentine's Day and share dinner together. I think about my mom and how her (formerly) close friends have husbands and kids now, and it's much more difficult to get together. Just the fact that my friends can come over and we can play jenga and laugh at our own unfunny jokes and binge-eat chocolate... I'm just really glad that (for now) we can still do that. It's actually incredible that we're still in the same geographic region (again, for now).

Or even last Friday taking light rail from work and getting picked up at the station by my grandpa (like last year when I used to live with him and grandma) and eating piroshkis with them for dinner while watching the six o'clock news.

Or walking to work with my mom at 7:30 in the morning while it's cold and windy, but her hugging me and wishing me a good day--I mean, isn't that sweet?

Or meeting up with my Christian friends for coffee and knowing deep down that they care about what's going on in my life and the things that I think and stuff?

These fleeting moments of togetherness with the people dear to me--I've really been taking them to heart lately. I don't know where I'll be two years from now; I don't even know where I'll be one year from now! All the same, though, life is good.

Thank you, Lord. Thank you, God. Thank you, Lord.
-my standard before-dinner prayer

Paycheck

The honeymoon phase is over. Are you bored of hearing about my job? Well, here's another post about my job.

I am self-conscious about complaining about work, mostly because of guilt. I mean, at least I have a job, so I shouldn't complain about it. However, I'm currently weighing the decision of whether or not to apply for the permanent position. In this respect, it'd be prudent to take a measured, comprehensive analytical view of the costs and benefits of my current work situation.

What has recently been tough about this job is the heavy workload. There are times when I'm juggling six "urgent" tasks at the same time. My desk is covered in papers, my inbox is a mess and my pupils are dilated--evidence of my fight/flight stress response system hard at work. Thanks, sympathetic nervous system. My position is a strange paradox because although I'm working for the director of the division, and am therefore powerful by this relation, I'm still a secretary. So basically my job is to make HIS job easier. I'm also doing a lot of supportive work with the human resources department.

The high level of stress is taxing my mental health. It's tough to fall asleep at night and I occasionally am afflicted with a throbbing stress headache. This makes me reluctant to even apply for the permanent position. The pay may be nice but at what cost? At what cost? (I forget what movie I'm referencing here, but I know you'll forgive me.)

Furthermore, I'm balking a bit on graduate school. I just don't know if I'll be able to stomach the academic culture so soon after finishing undergraduate work. I've been told not to confuse the people (students) with the actual area of study (public administration), but really, the people kind of make or break it for me. I squirm at the idea of spending the next two years of my life surrounded by passionate and well-intentioned, but entirely stuffy and self-important people. I just don't know if I can do it.

I know that being in the ivory tower of academia would be temporary, but it's absolutely maddening to be so removed from real-world problem-solving and I just finished putting up with four years of this nonsense.

Ugh, so tired of thinking about thinking. Meta overload.

I'm just going to scrawl out some fanfiction in a little corner and hide forever.

#DebbieDowner

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.

Job Search

It's been a month since I've graduated and I've since applied to about six different job positions. They've ranged from a "Sales Associate" at The Body Shop to a Family Life Director with a church in the Rainier Valley. So far none have resulted in an invitation to an interview. I'm trying to stay upbeat and not discouraged. My goal is to keep submitting cover letters and resumes, at least one a week. This upcoming week I'll be applying to Office Depot! Hey, I wouldn't hate it. :)

It's been humbling to be in such a competitive job market and to realize that just because I have an undergraduate degree, it does not mean that I would be automatically qualified for/competent in a "lackey job" like working a front desk or selling retail.

I'm still pretty bummed about the whole Peace Corps thing not working out. My parents keep trying to assure me that there's "something out there" for me, and that I just need to be patient and wait for it. Well, we'll just see about that.

Hope my next "something" will show up before I'm thirty.

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.

Seeking Permanency

Definitely time for a post. Thinking so much about various things that I cannot fall asleep! Some things I have been pondering lately:

Do politics really matter? Feeling as if my policy class is pulling back the veil that reveals the Wizard of Oz to be nothing more than a man! Starting to see how corrupt and broken the political system is and how ignorant and deceived we are on a daily basis!! More and more I'm seeing that it all comes down to: POWER, MONEY and SELF-INTEREST.. Tomorrow I am going to Olympia with a classmate to advocate for immigrants and refugees. I think the best part of political advocacy is the sheer number of people that show up to rallys like these. It's so encouraging to know that there are people in the U.S. who actually give a damn. That's the best part--meeting people who care!! Not sure if what we're doing (rallying/advocating) is actually making a difference, but whatever; I have a good time being around passionate people!

Why is Valentine's Day such a big deal? Seems like for single girls Valentine's Day is, like, the WORST DAY EVER. I dunno, I just don't feel that bad about myself for being single anymore. Whereas in high school I was insecure and considered myself "unlikeable" because I did not catch the attention of a guy, I'm pretty indifferent now. I think the coolest thing I can celebrate as a single woman on Valentine's Day is the crazy amount of awesome friends that God has given me. I think about friends I've had for a LONG time (Rachel R.!) and ones I've known for a couple years (Hillary & Faith) and new ones I met just this year (Brittany from the BASW program) and I feel so thankful! And, like, damn, we've got the rest of our lives to be married (if we end up married, that is), so I say, live it up while we can!!! :)

Totes defs missing Mexico.. I'm really missing the families and children in San Miguel de Allende! I have had SO MANY wonderful experiences becoming a part of different communities through volunteer work (Consejo, Villa Esperanza, Casa de los Amigos, Hogar de los Angeles) but the saddest thing is that they all eventually had to end! I had to say goodbye and sometimes I wonder about clients I was particularly fond of.

For example, at Consejo I really connected with an older man named Carlos*, who grew up in Texas but now lives in an apt near Lake City. He's pretty coherent, although sometimes I wondered a bit at what he was trying to tell me--he was mandated to get mental health treatment in order to receive public assistance for housing and food. Anyway, his gift was in art--he did portraits and all sorts of things with nothing more than a crappy set of crayons and colored pencils. I would sit with him and watch him draw and he would tell me about different things he'd bought recently and refurbished, or things he'd like to get for his apartment.

Or I think about Villa Esperanza & the family of Tania* and her three sons Victor*, Alejandro* and Cristofer*. The stereotypical single mother of color with three kids is usually pitied by liberals because she's up against so many barriers, blahblahblah. Well, of course. Tania's a survisor of sexual abuse, English is her second language, etc. But that was one of the strongest families I have EVER seen. I mean, the LOVE, they had for each other was so beautiful! The oldest, Victor, looked after his lil' bros and even his mom! It was obvious the boys all loved and respected Tania... I did not pity that family. They moved out of the transitional housing right  before I finished volunteering and I wonder where they are now.

At Casa de los Amigos I think of Ceferino*. This boy was a prophet full of wisdom and insight and compassion--mature beyond his years (he's only 16!). He came from Honduras, riding trains north through Mexico to get to the U.S. His family back home is super poor and all he wants to do is learn, make money to send home. I mean, damn, he's in this children's prison, not knowing whether he'll be deported or what have you, and he's so focused! I mean, sure, there were days where I could tell the weight of it all was getting to him--that he was thinking and contemplating despair. But jeez, he just fought so much through it all. He took the GED, took every opportunity possible to learn and practice English, was almost always in his room reading.. He was basically the dad of that unit, looking after the other boys and was the first to use his own savings to purchase a parting gift when a kid got adopted or deported. Last I knew he was placed in a group home with other U.S. naturalized homeless youth and seemed to be mostly thriving, although his court case was still pending. He called me the other day, but I never got back to him. I realized too late that giving out my personal cell phone number was breaching professional boundaries.. I wonder, though, where he is and how he's doing.

And at Hogar de los Angeles--so many that I left behind! So many incredible families.. I miss those women and their children terribly! I miss Mexico.. I was thinking about how the woman across the street who ran a bakery let me get sweet bread when I was short 3 pesos, trusting that I'd pay her back later. I don't know, little things... I was moved by that because it'd never happen here in the U.S.

*Changing names although I'm pretty sure I'm already violating HIPA privacy & disclosure codes, w/e

All this goes to say that I am yearning to be in a long-term community because that is was I really, really enjoy. I want to be somewhere where I don't have to think about saying goodbye, because I'll be sticking around. Like for at least a year, but preferrably two or three. I want to put down roots in the community I'm going to be serving, because I want to show them that I care enough to stay with them. It's such an incredible experience meeting and knowing the poor, being a part of their lives. There is nothing really like it at all.

Until then.. I keep dreaming.