poetry

I never thought I would say this, but:

poetry has been working to revive my soul.

I just started teaching a poetry unit to my students and I am definitely learning as we go. I have long forgotten all of the terminology and I've heard (ahem. said) that it's best to learn by doing. So, I have committed to writing poetry along with my students.

This week we started with free verse. I showed them a video that shows Spoken Word poetry and I am ADDICTED.

Here are two of my favorites:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bgQLEfSi9ys

and

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9eYH0AFx6yI

I wish I could do this! Instead, I will write my poems, starting with free verse.

Assignment:

Take a memory you have from your childhood that outsiders might see as negative, but that you are now able to see as positive because of how it changed you.


"close your eyes" by me

close your eyes

forget the lies

that say you

have no memories

claim your memories as

yours

like the time the hurricane

shook my family's house like

a little kid shakes the christmas presents under the tree

and i sat

wondering when we would be free

of the wind, water, and what ifs that watered our conversations

in the dark

of my mind

i remember and i'm

scared, scared of the whispers throughout the years about money

knowing my parents are doing the best they can but somehow

understanding

that money is a monster

understanding that it is much like that hurricane and i'm

scared that one day my situation will be

the same

but refusing to conform to the american ways that say

borrow, borrow, borrow,

pay me back later, you deserve it now,

i want what i cannot have so i will have it now but i

won't,

not really, nothing is mine as long as i owe to someone else

so i watch as the things i want and get become like

a shackle from my foot to some object that i now forget

why i wanted in the first place so i

close my eyes and

eliminate the lies

that say, "you become your memories"

and instead decide to

claim my future and not my desired objects as

mine.

yo.

troubled.

this weekend i accompanied my parents up to northwest florida to attend the funeral of one of my dad's lifelong friends.

it was pretty strange to meet all of my dad's surfing buddies from the 1960s and 1970s, especially after hearing their (strange) names for so many years. they all had weird nicknames like captain scarbelly, china, joe buck, and street fighter. seriously! (my dad is known as java, and not because of coffee).

i heard hilarious stories of their surfing adventures whilst witnessing their grief at the loss of a beloved friend.

a lot of thoughts have gone through my mind since then, a few of which include the brevity of life, God's role in "calling" someone home to Heaven, and living a life that shows your care and concern for those around you.

first of all, the brevity of life. last night i was watching the bachelor with my mom (don't judge me, we've been watching it for YEARS!) and one of the girls vying for the heart of brad was a funeral home director. she actually was an embalmer. she made a comment about how americans are scared to death of death! they deny it and avoid it (that is, avoid dying and avoid dealing with it). i find this to be true. life is short. i admit to being scared at the thought of losing my parents. with one of my dad's friends being the first in his group to go, it's troubling to know that they've reached the age in which is won't be all that uncommon to lose people they love... and people i love. i'm thankful for the time we had to visit the church i grew up in and hear pastor J (who is the little brother of my dad's friend who passed away) speak. i love that he talked about Heaven and how even Jesus didn't go without feeling troubled. Jesus felt troubled at the death of his friend Lazarus (john 11:33). but, when you look to john 14:1-6, you see how Jesus assures his followers that he is going to prepare a place for us... that we shouldn't be troubled about that. as pastor J said, "not that you won't be troubled in life, but one thing you don't have to be troubled about is your final destination: heaven."

the other thought i've been mulling over is God's [huge] role in how brief our life actually will be. my dad's friend was one of the healthiest, most active sixty-year-old men around. he surfed nearly every day and had just been told last year that he had the heart of a thirty-year-old. yet, he died of a massive heart attack. what happened? these things trouble us. we don't understand why. if someone is neglecting their health, it makes a little bit more sense. we say things like, "well, if so-and-so had just gotten her ass off the couch every once in awhile..." or "if he had just worn sunscreen..." [which is what might have prevented my own grandfather from dying when i was only one-year-old]. but then you take my dad's friend and pastor J's brother. gone. no explanation. it doesn't mean we have to question God or even get angry with God. we can, and i don't really see much harm in it unless it turns us away from God. however, one thing we can spare ourselves from is wondering about his final destination. we can live without troubling ourselves about where he is. Y loved God. he knew that Jesus was the only way to know God and that his life was empty without God. he made sure those around him knew it, too. it was a life well-lived.

Y showed deep care and concern for those around him. my dad brought a postcard to the funeral that Y had sent to him last fall. Y sent postcards to his friends when he thought of them. he never joined FB, wasn't into e-mail. but he still managed to show how much he cared for the people in his life, whether they were a new friend, or an old surfing buddy. further, at the funeral on saturday, his family made photocopies of Y's prayer list. they said he kept it for years - he rewrote it as things changed or prayers were answered. there were three pages of names, equaling sixty lines of names (probably around 150 names). as my parents and i looked through the list, we saw our own family on the list: "s & family." a few lines later we saw my mom's parents on the list: "mr. & mrs. B." wow. this guy had been praying for us...possibly for years. and we never knew. i didn't really know Y. i had seen him and casually talked to him throughout the years. when i visited his surf shop pre-retirement i would make sure to say i was S's daughter. but other than that, i only knew him as my dad's friend, my best friend's uncle, and my childhood pastor's brother. i knew his reputation but i didn't know how far it extended. i don't know that anyone did, really. and yet he was praying for us.

what a blessing to live a life seeped in the prayers of saints.

http://vimeo.com/20183276

i'm not sure what all of this means for my own life, but i'm convinced it's significant.

the nephew.

two months and one week ago i found out that i am going to be an aunt. and one week ago, i found out i am going to have a nephew.

i have dreamt about becoming an aunt ever since my cousins became aunts & uncles to C's kids. K and i would always make controversial statements about what we would teach our sobrinos. then the day came and it's happening. now, we rarely joke about the things we'll teach him, but instead constantly text our sister name suggestions and boast about the qualifications that will make one of us the favorite aunt.

also what has changed includes how all of a sudden, when my sister says she isn't feeling well, i begin to worry! i start praying that my nephew (and my sister) will be okay and wish there were something i could do to help.

i had no idea that a new addition to the family would change me. not that i didn't care before, but i've noticed this softened side to my already soft family. i love that my dad prays for the baby and makes sure to ask how his grandson is doing. i love that my mom and i no longer have to walk by the baby section in the stores without having a baby in mind to buy things for. in fact, just last week i sent my nephew a present: a lil onesie that has a monkey on it that says, "i like hangin with my aunt." i can't wait to take a picture with him while he's wearing it. and not to be outdone, my mom sent him a bunch of things this weekend. i love that it'll be here before we know it.

on the other side of things, i've become somewhat sentimental. i realize that G has a certain path in mind for E and me, and although i'm excited to see what that looks like, sometimes i get sad to think about what i'll be missing out on. i have this weird problem. i want to go, i want to have adventures, i want to "get my hands dirty," as E likes to say. but because those things aren't yet concrete, because that is not yet my life, i act like everyone else is moving forward and i am already being left out. i am quite confident that that sentence doesn't make sense to anyone but me.

i guess i mean to say, i want to be everywhere. and at some point, you do have to choose. you have to decidedly say, "this is where i want to be." it doesn't mean that you have to let people or places go, you just have to give up what you might currently consider to be "ideal." (which is a joke anyways, when your sister, brother-in-law, and in-womb nephew are already hundreds of miles away in texas).

i wish i made sense, but that would probably scare me most of all.

empty-handed.

i wrote how much i'm planning to tithe this month on a a stickies on my mac desktop screen. as soon as i saw the number again this morning and despite hearing father's R's voice in my head saying, "s, don't forget to give to J! s, don't forget to give to J!" i immediately thought, "ugh, that's so much money. how am i ever going to pay all my bills? or save? or stay afloat." following all of these (selfish) thoughts, i went to my gmail account and saw the "daily lectionary" that i receive in my inbox everyday. this is what i read:

Ecclesiasticus 35:1-17

"One who keeps the law makes many offerings;

one who heeds the commandments makes an offering of well-being.

One who returns a kindness offers choice flour,

and one who gives alms sacrifices a thank-offering.

To keep from wickedness is pleasing to the Lord,

and to forsake unrighteousness is an atonement.

Do not appear before the Lord empty-handed,

for all that you offer is in fulfilment of the commandment.

The offering of the righteous enriches the altar,

and its pleasing odour rises before the Most High.

The sacrifice of the righteous is acceptable,

and it will never be forgotten.

Be generous when you worship the Lord,

and do not stint the first fruits of your hands.

With every gift show a cheerful face,

and dedicate your tithe with gladness.

Give to the Most High as he has given to you,

and as generously as you can afford.

For the Lord is the one who repays,

and he will repay you sevenfold.



Do not offer him a bribe, for he will not accept it;

and do not rely on a dishonest sacrifice;

for the Lord is the judge,

and with him there is no partiality.

He will not show partiality to the poor;

but he will listen to the prayer of one who is wronged.

He will not ignore the supplication of the orphan,

or the widow when she pours out her complaint."

okay okay! i'll give. and i really will try to do it cheerfully, too.

Kashrut* & Jesus

*(also kashruth or kashrus, כַּשְׁרוּת) is the set of Jewish dietary laws.

I've been reading a book called "Miriam's Kitchen" by Elizabeth Ehrlich. It's about a Jewish woman who slowly eases into keeping a kosher kitchen. Raised by somewhat nominal Jewish parents, her husband's parents continue to hold fast to a diet deemed acceptable by the Torah. Her mother-in-law, Miriam, serves as one of her main guides during the journey, seemingly unaware of the inner-battle going on within Elizabeth to learn, understand, and implement the Jewish diet in her own home.

For the past few days, I've been stuck on this one passage that Ehrlich writes. I was shocked when 130 pages into the book, she wrote one paragraph about Jesus. Five days after reading that paragraph, I still can't get it out of my head.

Ehrlich writes,

"Kashrut, I believe, gave Jesus his great opening. He ate with the common people in their homes, when other learned teachers wouldn't. Poor folk might not have had enough wooden bowls, ceramic vessels, and cooking implements to adhere perfectly to dietary laws. They might not have enough knowledge or resources to make their kitchens kosher enough for the standards of a truly learned man. Jesus swallowed his own squeamishness, perhaps, sat down and broke bread. You can get to heaven without all of this, he taught. I can see the appeal. But oddly enough, and at the same time, trying to be kosher confronts one with the ultimate impossibility of perfection. Finally you have to live with your accommodations, the limits of being human. As with a calculus problem, the solution may draw close to an imaginary line, but never quite get there. At least, I'm sure I never will."

I love how Ehrlich shows that trying to keep a kosher kitchen is just another reminder of our inability to live perfectly; we can't do it on our own. It's been such an adventure to read this book while also reading a chapter-a-day of Leviticus, and reading through Acts. It's neat to see the juxtaposition of sacrificial offerings for atonement of sin (Leviticus) alongside the Council of Jerusalem's decision not to force Gentiles to live as Jews (Acts).

I like where Peter says, "Why do you try to test God by putting on the necks of the disciples a yoke that neither we nor our fathers have been able to bear? No! We believe it is through the grace of our Lord Jesus that we are saved, just as they are." (Acts 15:10-11).

I think that, as an outsider to Judaism, it's easy to point fingers and say, "Oh, but to live like that is so hard!" But to hear Peter say, "a yolk that neither we nor our fathers have been able to bear," I feel like I can hear the commitment in his voice. Maybe he is pointing out that the laws found in the Torah were their sacrifice to give to God, in remembrance of his promise that the Messiah would come. Maybe he was saying that even though they had been waiting for the promised Messiah for generations, and even though the Gentiles hadn't experienced the same sacrificial waiting, salvation was still extended to them all, through the power of the Holy Spirit.

I wonder if the Jewish Christians who had concerns about the new Gentile Christians kept on with their Kashrut diet. Somehow, I think they did. Even though their salvation was no longer to be found in their attempts to keep the perfect Kosher kitchen or by celebrating all the Jewish observances as immaculately as possible, it was another way to remind themselves that no matter how hard they tried to separate the milk from the meat, no matter how hard they tried to rid their kitchens of flour during the Feast of the Unleavened Bread, they still fell short. The only difference was, now they looked back to the cross, being reminded that Jesus was the atonement they still needed, and their perfection was still not possible through their sacrifices, but through his sacrifice on the cross.

absence makes the heart say... what the hell is up with this??

i gave E a card to take to china that said that. it made me laugh then, but now i agree with it so much more!

it's been 31 days since i have heard my boyfriend's voice. 31. isn't that insane? i don't think anyone should have to go that long without speaking to their love. i've looked forward to every e-mail i've received from him and have definitely learned a lot about myself and my relationship with E (and with G!) during this time. i've learned about patience, and trust, and more patience, and more trust.

i've been very grateful for my family, who has put up with my melancholy state and who has patted me on the back and told me everything is going to be okay. when E and i were able to gchat for the first time on tuesday, i told him i had cried a lot and he said he wished he could have witnessed it (as thus far in our relationship i have refused to cry in front of him). i told him that when he's around, i don't have any reason to cry! ha, i know, so so corny. but, it is true. i mean, crying can be so healing, but it is a huge vulnerability factor. i think being down here, without a job, without being able to talk to my E, has somewhat stripped me of my independence. with that comes this feeling of exposure that left me less able to communicate and more likely to release tears rather than intelligible words.

i told K a couple of weeks ago that i felt like E was a figment of my imagination. and she said, "no, i met him, he's real." it cracks me up to even type that, but it was a good reassurance to me that this is a just a season, and it will pass (albeit, very. very. very. slowly).

three days to go. (:

hide & seek.

when i was little, i learned a game called hide & seek. i loved it and all of my friends loved it because it gave us yet another opportunity to discover. i remember asking my mom lots of questions throughout my childhood; sometimes she would tell me the answer, and sometimes she would say, "look it up" or "sound it out."

i believe that many of the things we learn as children are foundational to how we view things as adults. for example, when playing hide and seek, did you love to be found? did you love to seek? did you love to stay hidden as long as possible, as your siblings or friends agonized over where you were hiding?

i always had a hard time staying hidden. my mom said that when we would go shopping i would hide in the middle of the circular clothes racks. she would find me by listening for my giggles. i probably saw her feet or something and thought it was so funny that i could see her but she couldn't see me. but, part of me thinks that i didn't mind being found all that badly.

especially in the individualist society i live in, everyone has something they're hiding. eventually it comes out, but not without pain, shame, reluctance... i was thinking about how john mayer awhile back told some tabloid that he would give them a large sum of money if they were able to uncover a mug shot of him. i can't remember if they found it or not, but the point is, i remember reading that. obviously the tabloids weren't the only ones intrigued by mayer's secret photo.

sure, we want to be accepted by the people around us so we hide things. but the thing is, if the people around us aren't the type of people that we trust enough with our junk, why do we really care about their acceptance?

i'm saddened that we all want what we want so bad that we hold onto things for prolonged periods of time, letting their grip on us, their power over us, our attachment to them, grow so strong and deep, that when the hidden-whatever has been released or sought out, it's done more damage than ever thought possible. so much that we are blind to its beginning and its actual affect on us.

going back to my story about how i hid from my mom in the circular clothes racks, i think it's key to point out that she found me by listening. maybe we do hide things and maybe people hide things from us, but are we listening to what is really going on? are there clues to be sought after? or, when people are trying to seek after our hidden-whatevers, do we stay put? refusing even to breathe in hopes that they'll leave you be and the game will continue?

however, in the same breath, i think it's important to remember:

"do not throw your pearls to pigs. If you do, they may trample them under their feet, and then turn and tear you to pieces.

ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. for everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened." - matthew 7.

missed out on july.

i just realized that i completely missed out on out writing for the month of july. things were pretty hectic. at one point in time, i felt like i had something meaningful to write to sum up july, but the moment has passed. i feel pretty displaced without having E around. he comes back in 15 days but it's already been 19 days. 15 more seems pretty unbearable.

also, as the days come a little bit closer to him being back in the u.s., i feel a little more sad that when he is back, we won't be in the same place. i'll be down in florida and he'll still be in illinois.

i hope the madness ends soon. :/

great expectations.

lately i've been thinking about expectations. sometimes i think i concentrate so much on other people's expectations on me, that i forget to think about the expectations i have: for people, for situations, for my life.

i think it's so interesting how much we expect of each other. i feel like over the past few years, i've worked to lower the bar i have for people. but sadly, i feel like the bar must continue to be lowered. were my expectations too high or is the standard too low?

i guess i just have a lot of questions. do great expectations come us as babies? we expect our mother to feed as as babies. what if she does? the expectation is fulfilled. but what if she delays? the expectation comes with longing. what if she doesn't? the expectation leads to death.

but some expectations like those of babies are necessary for actual health and existence. but what about the expectations that we experience as adults? are our expectations due to a desire that needs to be fulfilled or merely a desire to enforce what we feel is right?

my questions are one side of it. but the other side of it is, why do some feel the weight of expectations more than others? as a peacemaker personality, this is so hard for me. i want people to be pleased with me and my actions, but at some point, i need to think for myself, specifically asking myself: what are my expectations for life? what are some things that i crave to see in my life?

i feel like maybe i saw a small glimmer of that in myself a long long time ago. but somewhere along the way, i lost it. instead, my insides crash and bang around while my outside smiles & nods.

great expectations. what a brilliant name for a novel & a good reminder to consider the expectations of others and the expectations i have for me & my life. maybe the "great" part means "too many."

the aftermath of the storm that came.

the storm of school has passed and yet now i realize that i am a storm, too. my body is so familiar with going & going & going that to stop is to sit around and wonder why i am not going.

i am my father's daughter.

my mom told me so more than once this week. & she's right.
i have a hard time relaxing after my pace has been so very fast for so very long. but also, i like the pace. it's not always ideal, but it keeps me from the sadness that my mind drifts toward, like a moth to a flame. so the slackened pace demands that i more thoroughly address the inclinations of my mind to dwell in sadness & despair.

G has given me much encouragement through L, who is ninety years old. the elderly people in my life don't tend to be people who i would look to for divine wisdom & love. sure, i love my grandparents and i miss my paternal grandparents very much. but, something with L is different. it's as if she looks into my eyes and sees something i think i've hidden: my exhaustion during the last month of school, my nervousness about finding a job, my sadness about leaving my sweet students, or the need i am scared to admit about how much i need to hear words that contradict what society & the economy are telling me. i need hope. & i need to hear about people who trust G against all odds. faith in action.

i keep thinking how amazing it is that G has uncovered the gem of L to me. she has been around our teaching location for so long. i was somewhat resistant to get to know her, but as she sought me out to talk, i've been that much more thankful for her. i like her independence, her outlook on life, her desire to help others, and her ability to encourage & give hope.

right now, my body is trying to adjust. but, as my mind adjusts, i hope to think about the trust that L has in G to provide for me, and to increasingly believe it myself, too.

belonging.

I cower ‘neath the monster trees
And try to stand on tired feet
But gravity knocks me to the ground
Where I give up, and tears roll down
I claw the dust and beg the end
Curse the day that I began
to hope there’d be a place where I belong

I hear a sound I recognize
You lift my chin and seek my eyes
Song of love You sing to me
I ache to sing it back to Thee
"Father Love prepares a place
Brother Jesus leads the way
Follow to the place where you belong!"

How did I miss this wondrous song?
The forest sang it all along
"River rinses all your shame
Father offers you His name
Father Love prepares a home
Brother Jesus leads you on
Follow to the place where you belong!"

back out there.

my dashboard countdown tells me I have only 24 days left until graduation.
before then, I have to write a research paper, six confessional essays, take an exam, and turn in two projects.

I keep thinking, I really want to be excited about graduating but instead, I am just scared. I seem to make a lot of my decisions based off of fear and/or the need for security.

Three years ago, I was about to graduate from undergrad. That entire summer, I couldn't find a job. I didn't even have a clue what I wanted to do. I said I would never work for MCS and I definitely would never teach elementary. I also said I would never move home. And then, I did everything I said I would never do.

What frustrates me is that I decided to do those things because I was so deathly afraid of what would happen if I didn't. I wouldn't be able to pay my bills. I would be a graduate with no job. Instead, I spent the year with 5-6 year olds, coming home each day with a story and a blanket of sadness wrapped around me.

I don't know how to make fearless decisions. I look for jobs on the internet and see if there is anything out there, but I am already beginning to feel stuck and somewhat desperate. I don't want to repeat the decisions I made three years ago, but I can't promise that I won't. & I hate that.

anfechtung.

yesterday before I went to theology class, I had to finish my reading. I saved my favorite book to read last because I knew reading it would be effortless. it's odd how my own emotional well-being (or lack thereof) prepared me for what I read. this week's chapter was martin luther's writing on the topic of despair. the author of the chapter wove luther's life trials in with things he had written during his lifetime.

maybe it was because yesterday, in its covering of the sun with dense clouds, felt like an anfechtung day. but as I sat in the library, I understood luther. in our group discussions later that night, the same phrase that I always use to describe my own personal despair came to mind: "when it hits, it's like you never experienced happiness. and when it leaves, you forget what it feels like, and it's as if you never felt sadness at all." but luther seemed to figure out how to transcend his dilemma with anfechtung. although he struggled with it his entire life, he was able to recognize what he experienced in others , causing him to reach out and in turn, looking beyond himself. so although he still wrestled with his bouts of despair, he held on.

it's hard to say things feel shitty without people becoming intensely worried about you. I think that's why, for the person experiencing anfechtung, it's important to try to be prepared for the low points and also learn to balance the 'wearing it on your sleeve' from what to workout on your own and in your own heart. of course community is important in dealing with struggles, but sometimes you just need to be reminded that G sees you, sits with you in the anfechtung, and isn't encouraging you to put on a face for the masses.

"we have to learn that a Christian should walk in the midst of death, in the remorse and trembling of his conscience, in the midst of the devil's teeth and of hell, and yet should keep the Word of grace, so that in much trembling we say, 'You, O Lord, do look on me with favour.'" - luther (1538)

lactantius.

so this past week I was introduced to this theologian named lactantius. all week I struggled with how to say his name. poor fellow, sounds like he is lactose intolerant.

I read a chapter on his thoughts on the idea of righteous anger. is it possible to have anger and not sin? I liked the way his writing was organized in the chapter. the commentator pointed out that anger (which wants revenge) is in the category of the three furies, the other furies being sexual desire (which wants pleasure) & love of gain (which wants wealth).

I keep going back to this section because they are labeled as furies (and also "primary passions") for a reason. I had never thought of "love of gain" being in this category but it definitely makes a lot of sense to me now. I also like it in this category because it is a bit controversial along with anger- is it possible to have a healthy love of gain? lactantius would probably say yes. he indicated that love of gain is important so that one can provide for him/herself as well as his/her family. it's necessary to survival, yet it can overtake you. obviously, sexual desire is the same. it's necessary to the survival and continuation of the human race. although, it's obvious to see that when love of gain & sexual desire are abused, they become massively distorted.

so is it the same for anger? can anger bear positive fruit, but if misused, become dysfunctional in its use? ironically, even to use the word dysfunctional implies that there is a social norm for how something is to be used appropriately but that deviating from that makes it abnormal.

is there a difference between anger and having a quick temper? Dr. T alluded to the psalms & proverbs of the B and how many times people are warned of the consequences of having a bad temper.

the application part of me looks to what I know of anger. when you are the target, whether directly or indirectly, of someone's anger, it significantly impacts you. I think because I feel like I have somewhat been a spectator in life to anger's impact on the one it inhabits as well as the one it influences from onlooking, it's tricky to put into words how it makes one feel as to mentally create a non-blurry line that separates "righteous anger" from "unrighteous anger."

I've seen that in my own life, the consequences of generational anger on me have resulted in passivity. fighting, conflicts, anger... it all makes me cringe and shut down. I always go back to this scene in my head a year ago where a person I love angrily slammed a door and I realized I had immediately begun crying. it set the scene for me to begin having more open conversations with people in my family, which I am grateful for, but also has made me curious about anger because I think, as we talked about in class last night, that maybe what we know of anger is so distorted that righteous anger actually looks like something else, some other emotion, when in its true form. I was oddly encouraged by that thought and want to keep my eyes open for more examples of what could constitute righteous anger.

lord, have mercy.

earlier this evening I read through my first reading for theological foundations.
I read genesis 11:27-18:33.

from what I understood from Dr. G last night, I'm supposed to look for a missional theme while I'm reading. despite my confusion and attention issues last night, I did walk away with one admonition said by Dr. G ringing in my ears: live in the scriptures.

I've done a very bad job of this thus far in my life. my parents set me off to a good start and once upon a time, I was quite proud of how much I knew of the bible. however, even then, it was just knowledge and the understanding and life application weren't there.

I went into the reading hoping to feel changed, expecting God to teach me something. however, despite all that, my first reading left me feeling really sad. I just sat back after reading and thought about what I had just read of Abram-->Abraham and Sarai-->Sarah. Abram lied and repeatedly didn't trust God. Sarah, too, mistreated Hagar, didn't trust that God would give her a child {actually, laughed at the idea}, and lied.

Dr. G said not to let our idea of what missions is change as we apply missions to the old testament people. However, the problem is, I keep hearing from the people in my life that missions is about serving people and that it is sacrificial in nature. Right now, I look at this section of readings and only see mistreatment of foreigners. I feel like I'm beginning to see that it has less and less to do with us and that much more to do with God, for he is the one that gave comfort to the mistreated Egyptian Hagar. And it was through Abram's misdoings that God inflicted disease on Pharaoh and his household. It seemed that time and time again, Abram and Sarai's sinful actions were almost triggers for God stepping in and doing something.

I know a lot of Abram's stories are great but he makes me a little sick... although, also making me to see how likely it is for my great inadequacies to outweigh anything positive I might attempt to do for God's glory.

I know I am no better than Abram.

beauty for ashes.

"the Spirit of the Lord is on me, because the Lord has anointed me to... provide for those who grieve in Zion - to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes , the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of heaviness." - isaiah 61:1-3


"Observe, in the text, the change Christ promises to work for his mourners. First, here is beauty given for ashes. In the Hebrew there is a ring in the words which cannot be conveyed in the English. The ashes that men put upon their head in the East in the time of sorrow made a grim tiara for the brow of the mourner; the Lord promises to put all these ashes away, and to substitute for them a glorious head dress—a diadem of beauty. Or, if we run away from the word, and take the inner sense, we may look at it thus:—mourning makes the face wan and emaciated, and so takes away the beauty; but Jesus promises that he will so come and reveal joy to the sorrowing soul, that the face shall fill up again: the eyes that were dull and cloudy shall sparkle again, and the countenance, yea, and the whole person shall be once more radiant with the beauty which sorrow had so grievously marred. I thank God I have sometimes seen this change take place in precious saints who have been cast down in soul. There has even seemed to be a visible beauty put upon them when they have found peace in Jesus Christ, and this beauty is far more lovely and striking, because it is evidently a beauty of the mind, a spiritual lustre, far superior to the surface comeliness of the flesh. When the Lord shines full upon his servants' faces, he makes them fair as the moon, when at her full she reflects the light of the sun. A gracious and unchanging God sheds on his people a gracious and unfading loveliness. O mourning soul, thou hast made thine eyes red with weeping, and thy cheeks are marred with furrows, down which the scalding tears have burned their way; but the Lord that healeth thee, the Lord Almighty who wipeth all tears from human eyes, shall visit thee yet; and, if thou now believes "in Jesus, he shall visit thee now, and chase these cloudy griefs away, and thy face shall be bright and clear again, fair as the morning, and sparkling as the dew. Thou shalt rejoice in the God of thy salvation, even in God, thy exceeding joy. Is not this a dainty promise for mourning souls?" - charles haddon spurgeon

wisdom, rubies, and responsibility

I should be acting as the responsible teacher right now but my focused mind is nowhere to be found. tonight I went and saw the movie Precious. I knew it wouldn't be the easiest movie to watch, as I had been warned and had watched the trailer. but as I've wallowed in self-pity, dreading a year that holds a lot of changes for me, I knew I needed to see someone whose life is worse than mine and how conquering occurred in circumstances far more complicated and distorted than my own.

this past semester, as I've looked with my dsg into the proverbs and seen the juxtaposition of wisdom and folly, I've kept wondering how to really know the difference between the two, since sometimes the decisions I make seem so small that it's hard to tell what is more wise or what is more foolish. is there always a choice? are some decisions always better or worse than others?

in the movie tonight, as Precious made steps, I could see how it was difficult to distinguish wisdom and folly in her life, too, no matter how different her life was from mine. beginning with reading a book title, "a day at the shore," and progressing to an almost 8th grade reading level by the end of the film, she demonstrated her ability to further her mind. her decisions brought her wisdom in education but her desire for love and to be a good mother to her children, those things are what gave her wisdom in finding the steps she needed to take to fulfill her desires.

all that to say, I appreciated Precious. I appreciated the way her character began somewhat small and obviously traumatized, neglected, and abused and how she was transformed into a purposeful and hopeful student and mother.

she exhibited an innocent child, born into the lowest and most cruel follies, then recognizing her own worth and hope as a human being, seeking wisdom and a better life for herself and her babies. she reminds me of the verse below, personifying the woman wisdom.

"blessed is the man who finds wisdom, the man who gains understanding, for she is more profitable than silver and yields better returns than gold. she [wisdom] is more precious than rubies; nothing you desire can compare with her." -proverbs3:13-15

cling.

this semester, B and i talked about the importance of discerning who to tell your story & important parts of your life to. making sure that the receiver can not only appreciate the words and stories you offer, but also, if wanting to relate to it, to relate in a comparable way... not in a way that shares a story for the sake of pretending to know how the sharer feels.

this morning i read this "journal entry" from a little book i'm reading and it was encouraging to realize in B's and my desire to share pearls and recognize pearls, we're not alone in that desire and realization.

from cling to the promise in the inner voice of love by henri nouwen.

do not tell everyone your story. you will only end up feeling more rejected. people cannot give you what you long for in your heart. the more you expect from people's response to your experience of abandonment, the more you will feel exposed to ridicule.
you have to close yourself to the outside world so you can enter your own heart and the heart of God through your pain. God will send you to the people with whom you can share your anguish, who can lead you close to the true source of love.
God is faithful to God's promises. before you die, you will find the acceptance and the love you crave. it will not come in the way you expect. it will not follow your needs and wishes. but it will fill your heart and satisfy your deepest desire. there is nothing to hold on to but this promise. everything else has been taken away from you. cling to the naked promise of faith. your faith will heal you.

-h.n.

so although this isn't exactly what we talked about, i thought it was nice because he also had the realization of throwing pearls to swine. it took a difficult time in his life to come to some of the self-realization-entries he writes in "the inner voice of love." but the important part is, he did and i'm sure that coming to the realization of where he had invested much, expected more, and lost a lot, ultimately pushed him to cling to the faith he had in J.

i see you.

i just finished watching "the joy luck club" for the first time. there were so many scenes in the movie that were heartbreaking. it's been a long time since i've seen a movie that captures pain so clearly.

my favorite scene occurred between june and her mother. after years of feeling like she had disappointed her mother, june and her mother had a sort of break through moment. the mother confessed that she had so many hopes for her daughter. they weren't expectations, but merely all the good things she wanted for her daughter.

the mother repeated so many times to june, "i see you."

i couldn't help but think: isn't that what we all want? to be seen?

in my own relationship with my mother over the years, it's been such a weird cycle. when i was little, i just knew my mother knew everything. but then i was a teenager and she knew nothing. now i'm an adult and i know she knows so much. but i can see where our lives have diverged and although she continues to love me and counsel me, she doesn't have all the experiences i do and it's very often hard to believe that she understands the things i experience and have experienced. i don't mean this to discount anything about her. i am blessed with a mother who takes time for me, who loves me, who has sacrificed a lot to teach me about living life with integrity and strong character.

for so many years i have been concerned about what my mother sees when she sees me. wondering what she really thinks of me, asking, what are her worries for me? does she have thoughts about me that she would never say to me?

i think it was the repetition of "i see you" from june's mother that stood out to me since june so needed to believe that her mother did care for her and that her mother didn't look at her and see a disappointment. that she looked at her and saw past those things. but i also think, looking at the end of the movie, that it was important for june to be able to echo those same words back to her mother: "i see you."

it took june a long time to feel like she could see her mother. it made me wonder about my own mother: does she think that i see her?

my mom has treated me like an adult ever since i began acting like one. it was right around the time i went to college. things were just different. i didn't mind. it was a smooth transition. but it has shocked me in the last hour since seeing the scene from the movie and thinking about what it means to say "i see you." i feel challenged to not just see my mother, but to somehow let her know that i see her.