and i am reading the international news.
Many of the headlines (too many) start with "so and so killed by such and such;" a plane crash in Thailand, a bomb in Algeria, a bus crash in Mexico, a hurricane in Nicaragua, the continuing struggle in Darfur, the war in Iraq... Death is everywhere, and I sit comfortably on a couch at a cafe, sipping a caramel latte.
Do you think our lives would be different if the tragedies in this world were closer to home? Do you think we would live differently if we had friends that lived in Sudan? What would we do if we had a friend who was dying of a curable disease? What would our lives be like if our family was sick because of the dirty water?
I think our priorities would change. I think we would forget about trying to catch our favorite tv show, trying to keep up with fashion, trying to get all of our errands done and find some time to rest. I think we wouldn't be worried about anything except helping our friend.
A year ago I stayed in Balic Balic, Manilla, in the Philippines. I lived next to a slum by the railroad tracks. I spent time with the men and women that lived there. I ate with them, I went grocery shopping with them, I worshipped God with them. I experienced a typhoon with them, as we saw their tin roofs blow away. They let me come into their world for 3 weeks. They welcomed me in as a friend and as a member of their family. I called my host "Nanay,"
which is Tagalog for mother.
And now their world is being demolished. The railroad company is expanding and renovating, so the slum, the informal housing, the homes that are only feet away from the tracks, have to be demolished. Most of these people have no where to go. The government is offering housing, but it is away from the city and away from the jobs.
This is my family. I don't know them well, and we don't have the same blood, but that doesn't really matter. I was welcomed into their world. My heart fell in love with them. And now as I sit on a couch in a cafe, my family is wondering when they will wake up to someone telling them that they have to leave, telling them that their home will be demolished that very day.
If our neighborhood was scheduled to be demolished, would we live our lives differently? If our family was losing their home, would our priorities be different?
Please join me in praying for those who are losing their homes, for those who are losing family members, and for those who are directly affected by the headlines we read in the news.
Please join me in reconsidering our day to day priorities. Who are our friends? Who is part of our family? Do we have to be related to them? Do we have to have a conversation with them? Do we have to know them before we can be moved to help them? I don't think so.
Showing posts with label Jesus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jesus. Show all posts
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Saturday, August 25, 2007
The distance is quite simply much too far for me to row, it seems farther than ever before...
I have been listening to a lot of Death Cab for Cutie recently. Not a lot of songs, but a few songs over and over and over again. One song in particular is Death Cab's Transatlanticism. I have to admit that I have recently fallen in love with this song. Deeply in love. And I believe I have fallen so hard because it expresses something that I feel deep within my soul.
My life has been somewhat discombobulated, and this past year (starting around December '06) I've been slowly but surely going through the process of re-combobulating - if there is such a thing. I could probably go into a lot of detail about that, and hopefully will expand on my combobulations in later posts, but for now I'm going to keep it simple.
The point is I've been trying to bring my life together. I've been trying to find a focus point, a backbone, a rhythm, a sort of sanity or consistency between the roles of my life. My life is not complicated compared to most, but it felt and still feels broken, incomplete and at times contradicting. I believe these diagnoses are typical and true for most people, but I have finally gotten to a point where I long to be completed, centered, and healed - a process which could very well take the rest of my life and never finish. Fortunately, I knew exactly where to begin the process: Jesus.
The only way to be complete is to be completed, and I have no doubt that the only way to be completed is through Jesus. So what does that mean for me? I have been a "Christian" most of my life, and I have dedicated my life to following Jesus for almost 10 years now, but I still feel incomplete. Realizing the tension of not yet being completed by my God that completes, it became clear to me that I had to dig deeper. And this is where Death Cab for Cutie comes in.
While listening to Transatlanticism, I became aware of the way I resonated with the tones of separation and distance. I completely understood the idea of an ocean spilling across the earth, and separating me from what I am longing for. And then came the chorus of "I need you so much closer, I need you so much closer, I need you so much closer..." I closed my eyes as I listened to this chorus, and this what I saw:
I saw a hand being offered to me.
I took it, and was guided into a world.
It was the exact same world that we live in.
I saw the courtyard of my apartment complex.
I saw my neighbors.
I saw the beauty of life,
and I saw the pain.
But this world was different.
It was complete.
It was more real, more solid, more beautiful.
The colors were piercingly radiant.
Pain was still there, but it didn't matter.
The pain had purpose, and there was a clear end.
Contentment could be felt simply by breathing.
And everyone's eyes shined with hope.
This is what I saw when thinking to myself, "I need you so much closer." What I saw was my life with God present. I saw His kingdom reigning in my world. I saw the life for which I am longing.
This is a hard picture to translate to reality, because I don't think I am actually going to see the world in different colors, but I finally understand what the end result of my re-combobulation will feel like. It will transform my perception of the world. And the only way that will happen is if I step into God's kingdom.
And now back to the title of this blog. I have no clue how to step in, and this kingdom seems very very far away, even farther than before. But I think that is a good thing. At least I'm on the right planet, and I finally understand that I need to start rowing. The realization that I have to start rowing is what makes this vision feel so far from reality. My whole life I've been happy on my little island, but now I clearly see where I need to be, and that place is somewhere else entirely.
Seeing as this post is incredibly long and i've been sitting on this couch at this coffee shop for a very long time, I'll pause here, but expect more. If you have any thoughts or you want me to go more in depth on something specific, please post a comment!
My life has been somewhat discombobulated, and this past year (starting around December '06) I've been slowly but surely going through the process of re-combobulating - if there is such a thing. I could probably go into a lot of detail about that, and hopefully will expand on my combobulations in later posts, but for now I'm going to keep it simple.
The point is I've been trying to bring my life together. I've been trying to find a focus point, a backbone, a rhythm, a sort of sanity or consistency between the roles of my life. My life is not complicated compared to most, but it felt and still feels broken, incomplete and at times contradicting. I believe these diagnoses are typical and true for most people, but I have finally gotten to a point where I long to be completed, centered, and healed - a process which could very well take the rest of my life and never finish. Fortunately, I knew exactly where to begin the process: Jesus.
The only way to be complete is to be completed, and I have no doubt that the only way to be completed is through Jesus. So what does that mean for me? I have been a "Christian" most of my life, and I have dedicated my life to following Jesus for almost 10 years now, but I still feel incomplete. Realizing the tension of not yet being completed by my God that completes, it became clear to me that I had to dig deeper. And this is where Death Cab for Cutie comes in.
While listening to Transatlanticism, I became aware of the way I resonated with the tones of separation and distance. I completely understood the idea of an ocean spilling across the earth, and separating me from what I am longing for. And then came the chorus of "I need you so much closer, I need you so much closer, I need you so much closer..." I closed my eyes as I listened to this chorus, and this what I saw:
I saw a hand being offered to me.
I took it, and was guided into a world.
It was the exact same world that we live in.
I saw the courtyard of my apartment complex.
I saw my neighbors.
I saw the beauty of life,
and I saw the pain.
But this world was different.
It was complete.
It was more real, more solid, more beautiful.
The colors were piercingly radiant.
Pain was still there, but it didn't matter.
The pain had purpose, and there was a clear end.
Contentment could be felt simply by breathing.
And everyone's eyes shined with hope.
This is what I saw when thinking to myself, "I need you so much closer." What I saw was my life with God present. I saw His kingdom reigning in my world. I saw the life for which I am longing.
This is a hard picture to translate to reality, because I don't think I am actually going to see the world in different colors, but I finally understand what the end result of my re-combobulation will feel like. It will transform my perception of the world. And the only way that will happen is if I step into God's kingdom.
And now back to the title of this blog. I have no clue how to step in, and this kingdom seems very very far away, even farther than before. But I think that is a good thing. At least I'm on the right planet, and I finally understand that I need to start rowing. The realization that I have to start rowing is what makes this vision feel so far from reality. My whole life I've been happy on my little island, but now I clearly see where I need to be, and that place is somewhere else entirely.
Seeing as this post is incredibly long and i've been sitting on this couch at this coffee shop for a very long time, I'll pause here, but expect more. If you have any thoughts or you want me to go more in depth on something specific, please post a comment!
Monday, June 04, 2007
waiting = not doing anything.
I was minding my own business one day when John Mayer's "Waiting on the World to Change" came on the radio.
I know this song has been out for a while, but I finally just recently listened to the words:
me and all my friends
we're all misunderstood
they say we stand for nothing and
there's no way we ever could
now we see everything that's going wrong
with the world and those who lead it
we just feel like we don't have the means
to rise above and beat it
so we keep waiting
waiting on the world to change
we keep on waiting
waiting on the world to change
it's hard to beat the system
when we're standing at a distance
so we keep waiting
waiting on the world to change
now if we had the power
to bring our neighbors home from war
they would have never missed a Christmas
no more ribbons on their door
and when you trust your television
what you get is what you got
cause when they own the information, oh
they can bend it all they want
that's why we're waiting
waiting on the world to change
we keep on waiting
waiting on the world to change
it's not that we don't care,
we just know that the fight ain't fair
so we keep on waiting
waiting on the world to change
and we're still waiting
waiting on the world to change
we keep on waiting
waiting on the world to change
one day our generation
is gonna rule the population
so we keep on waiting
waiting on the world to change
I have a lot I could say about these lyrics and the video, but I'm going to keep it short.
Yes, this world has some big problems.
Yes, most of us do not have the ability or means to tackle many of the problems.
Yes, waiting is a HORRIBLE idea.
Yes, I like grafiti art (see video), but...
No. No no no no no. Posting the word "THINK" on a billboard is not going to cause someone to stop and think about how they can change the world.
Even if they stopped to "think", they wouldn't think about how they should wait for the world to change. They would think about what they could do to change the world.
I'm commenting on this song because I'm afraid that John Mayer's words actually sound like a good idea to many people who hear it. Truth be told, the first time I heard it I was glad to hear a song that focuses on the fact that the world needs to change. It isn't your typical, "I love her," "I hate life," "he's a slime-ball" song. Mayer's song feels fresh, different, and to many it might even sound meaningful. But there is a huge problem with his message.
If we all wait, nothing will change. At least nothing will change for the better. Maybe we can't fly to the middle east and end the war, the suicide bombings, the hunger, the murder, the death. But we can help our neighbors, we can mentor children, we can get involved in communities, we can support non-profits that are feeding the hungry, giving medical care to the sick, and helping people get on their feet. We can be kind to the environment. We can pray.
You don't have to be a doctor, politician, lawyer, movie star, or millionaire to change the world. You just have to stop waiting for a better doctor, politicain, lawyer... and start doing something.
anything. help an old lady walk across the street if you can't think of anything else.
I know this song has been out for a while, but I finally just recently listened to the words:
me and all my friends
we're all misunderstood
they say we stand for nothing and
there's no way we ever could
now we see everything that's going wrong
with the world and those who lead it
we just feel like we don't have the means
to rise above and beat it
so we keep waiting
waiting on the world to change
we keep on waiting
waiting on the world to change
it's hard to beat the system
when we're standing at a distance
so we keep waiting
waiting on the world to change
now if we had the power
to bring our neighbors home from war
they would have never missed a Christmas
no more ribbons on their door
and when you trust your television
what you get is what you got
cause when they own the information, oh
they can bend it all they want
that's why we're waiting
waiting on the world to change
we keep on waiting
waiting on the world to change
it's not that we don't care,
we just know that the fight ain't fair
so we keep on waiting
waiting on the world to change
and we're still waiting
waiting on the world to change
we keep on waiting
waiting on the world to change
one day our generation
is gonna rule the population
so we keep on waiting
waiting on the world to change
I have a lot I could say about these lyrics and the video, but I'm going to keep it short.
Yes, this world has some big problems.
Yes, most of us do not have the ability or means to tackle many of the problems.
Yes, waiting is a HORRIBLE idea.
Yes, I like grafiti art (see video), but...
No. No no no no no. Posting the word "THINK" on a billboard is not going to cause someone to stop and think about how they can change the world.
Even if they stopped to "think", they wouldn't think about how they should wait for the world to change. They would think about what they could do to change the world.
I'm commenting on this song because I'm afraid that John Mayer's words actually sound like a good idea to many people who hear it. Truth be told, the first time I heard it I was glad to hear a song that focuses on the fact that the world needs to change. It isn't your typical, "I love her," "I hate life," "he's a slime-ball" song. Mayer's song feels fresh, different, and to many it might even sound meaningful. But there is a huge problem with his message.
If we all wait, nothing will change. At least nothing will change for the better. Maybe we can't fly to the middle east and end the war, the suicide bombings, the hunger, the murder, the death. But we can help our neighbors, we can mentor children, we can get involved in communities, we can support non-profits that are feeding the hungry, giving medical care to the sick, and helping people get on their feet. We can be kind to the environment. We can pray.
You don't have to be a doctor, politician, lawyer, movie star, or millionaire to change the world. You just have to stop waiting for a better doctor, politicain, lawyer... and start doing something.
anything. help an old lady walk across the street if you can't think of anything else.
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Gotta love it
Hey friends,
I was just reflecting on some random stuff that I have recently come to love, and I thought I would share. (this is not a comprehensive list, and it is in no particular order)
1) Yoga. Thanks to my wonderful friend and housemate, Erin, I have discovered the wonderfulness of yoga. After my manic mondays at work, I go to my yoga class and find myself in some awkward, but somehow amazing position. As I am trying to balance on one foot, or going a little closer to doing the splits, I totally forget about the busyness of life, I think about how funny the room of 30 or 40 of us must look, and I simply relax, meditate, and sometimes pray. Its amazing. Not only is it relaxing, but I'm more flexible and I have less back problems. Haha. That sounds like an advertisemnt. Oh well. What can I say? I like yoga.
2) Salsa dancing. Thanks to my wonderful friend Jen and her 23rd birthday, I got to go salsa dancing this weekend. AMAZING. First of all, I love dancing. Secondly, salsa has a beautiful rhythym that is easy to pick up and move to. Thirdly, I love dancing.
3) Fundraising for Water for People. It is currently my favorite part of my job, but it isn't even a part of my job. I am helping make t-shirts, plan a happy hour, do a bake sale, and I get to learn more about Water for People and meet a lot of interesting people in the process. (check out their link on the right). Going to be in Pasadena in May? You should come to the happy hour. I'll let you know when and where in a couple weeks.
4) Talking to the security guy in my office building. His name is Fred, and he is cool.
5) Playing my guitar. I don't know that many songs, but that's OK, I gotta start somewhere. Whenever I need to talk to God or vent or relax, but I don't know what to say or do, I just pull out the guitar and sing. Its wonderful. (I'm not sure my housemates think that, but they at least tolerate it. :))
6) Jesus. I guess I haven't just recently come to love Jesus. I've loved him for a long time. But my current love for him feels fresh, new, deeper, stronger, and closer to complete.
7) Driving with the window down and the music up. Again, I've loved these things for a long time, but I appreciate it more than ever now that I spend 40 hours every week in a quiet cubicle with no window. Thank God for windows and music.
8) Spending time with the neighborhood kids. They bring me back to reality. Even when they are fighting, not sharing, demanding attention, not eating all their food, asking for more candy, crying, etc., they help me remember what is important in life.
9) My beater 2-door, 1990 Honda Accord.
-Dents: 2.
-Stains: countless.
-Oil spilled in the trunk? Check.
-Almost broken lock on the driver-side door? Check.
-Problems getting my key out of the ignition because of the broken Parking indicator? Very much Check.
-Can fit more people than there are seatbelts? Check.
-Missing transmission fluid dip stick? Fortunately, that is no longer a Check.
-My friends and often times carpool buddies, Erin and Preethi, have likened the process of getting out of the back of my car to emerging from the womb. Haha.
-Priceless memories? Check.
10) Reading the countless comments on my blog, which help me to know what people are thinking, what they disagree with, what they relate to, what else I should write about, how to improve my posts, and... oh wait. that doesn't happen. hmm... anyone out there? (hint hint, wink wink).
the real 10) Taking my grandpa on dates.
So great. so great. :)
I was just reflecting on some random stuff that I have recently come to love, and I thought I would share. (this is not a comprehensive list, and it is in no particular order)
1) Yoga. Thanks to my wonderful friend and housemate, Erin, I have discovered the wonderfulness of yoga. After my manic mondays at work, I go to my yoga class and find myself in some awkward, but somehow amazing position. As I am trying to balance on one foot, or going a little closer to doing the splits, I totally forget about the busyness of life, I think about how funny the room of 30 or 40 of us must look, and I simply relax, meditate, and sometimes pray. Its amazing. Not only is it relaxing, but I'm more flexible and I have less back problems. Haha. That sounds like an advertisemnt. Oh well. What can I say? I like yoga.
2) Salsa dancing. Thanks to my wonderful friend Jen and her 23rd birthday, I got to go salsa dancing this weekend. AMAZING. First of all, I love dancing. Secondly, salsa has a beautiful rhythym that is easy to pick up and move to. Thirdly, I love dancing.
3) Fundraising for Water for People. It is currently my favorite part of my job, but it isn't even a part of my job. I am helping make t-shirts, plan a happy hour, do a bake sale, and I get to learn more about Water for People and meet a lot of interesting people in the process. (check out their link on the right). Going to be in Pasadena in May? You should come to the happy hour. I'll let you know when and where in a couple weeks.
4) Talking to the security guy in my office building. His name is Fred, and he is cool.
5) Playing my guitar. I don't know that many songs, but that's OK, I gotta start somewhere. Whenever I need to talk to God or vent or relax, but I don't know what to say or do, I just pull out the guitar and sing. Its wonderful. (I'm not sure my housemates think that, but they at least tolerate it. :))
6) Jesus. I guess I haven't just recently come to love Jesus. I've loved him for a long time. But my current love for him feels fresh, new, deeper, stronger, and closer to complete.
7) Driving with the window down and the music up. Again, I've loved these things for a long time, but I appreciate it more than ever now that I spend 40 hours every week in a quiet cubicle with no window. Thank God for windows and music.
8) Spending time with the neighborhood kids. They bring me back to reality. Even when they are fighting, not sharing, demanding attention, not eating all their food, asking for more candy, crying, etc., they help me remember what is important in life.
9) My beater 2-door, 1990 Honda Accord.
-Dents: 2.
-Stains: countless.
-Oil spilled in the trunk? Check.
-Almost broken lock on the driver-side door? Check.
-Problems getting my key out of the ignition because of the broken Parking indicator? Very much Check.
-Can fit more people than there are seatbelts? Check.
-Missing transmission fluid dip stick? Fortunately, that is no longer a Check.
-My friends and often times carpool buddies, Erin and Preethi, have likened the process of getting out of the back of my car to emerging from the womb. Haha.
-Priceless memories? Check.
10) Reading the countless comments on my blog, which help me to know what people are thinking, what they disagree with, what they relate to, what else I should write about, how to improve my posts, and... oh wait. that doesn't happen. hmm... anyone out there? (hint hint, wink wink).
the real 10) Taking my grandpa on dates.
So great. so great. :)
Monday, April 09, 2007
an easter reflection
Now that I have spent a good 30 minutes trying to come up with the words to correctly express my reflections of this Easter, and now that I have hit the delete and backspace keys several, several times... I have found that I have no words that can accurately present to you my feelings of awe, amazement, grief, confusion, anger, gratefulness, and joy when I think of Jesus at Easter.
More than ever, I feel as though I helped place him on that cross. I feel as if I took a nail and drove it into His feet, or spat at him as he walked toward his death. More than ever this past year, I have struggled to follow Jesus. There have been times this year where I simply didn't want to follow him. I didn't doubt his existence, I was just tired and wanted out. I wished that I didn't know him, that I didn't know his words, and that I didn't know what he was asking of me. I didn't want to give him my life. I put him on the cross.
And now, more than ever, I desperately long for Jesus. I had hated him, but he loved me. I left him there, suffering, bleeding, dying. But he forgave me. I had NO CLUE what I was doing, but that didn't matter. He died for me. And on that glorious day we call Easter, He came back for me.
The funny thing is I struggled to follow Jesus because I stubbornly didn't want to give up any part of my life that I liked. He could have the stuff I didn't like, but otherwise I didn't want to change. I didn't want to feel convicted. I was willing to follow Jesus as long as I could also do whatever I wanted. I didn't want to sacrifice any part of my life to follow him. Hmm... I didn't want to give my life to him, even though he already gave his life to me.
So I stand in humility, and I stand in awe. I am humbled by Jesus' persistant and abundant love. I am in awe of his willingness to die for those who don't even know they are killing him. And I am grateful. More than ever, I am grateful for that day 2000 years ago when Jesus proved that nothing, not even the pain of death, could keep him away.
More than ever, I feel as though I helped place him on that cross. I feel as if I took a nail and drove it into His feet, or spat at him as he walked toward his death. More than ever this past year, I have struggled to follow Jesus. There have been times this year where I simply didn't want to follow him. I didn't doubt his existence, I was just tired and wanted out. I wished that I didn't know him, that I didn't know his words, and that I didn't know what he was asking of me. I didn't want to give him my life. I put him on the cross.
And now, more than ever, I desperately long for Jesus. I had hated him, but he loved me. I left him there, suffering, bleeding, dying. But he forgave me. I had NO CLUE what I was doing, but that didn't matter. He died for me. And on that glorious day we call Easter, He came back for me.
The funny thing is I struggled to follow Jesus because I stubbornly didn't want to give up any part of my life that I liked. He could have the stuff I didn't like, but otherwise I didn't want to change. I didn't want to feel convicted. I was willing to follow Jesus as long as I could also do whatever I wanted. I didn't want to sacrifice any part of my life to follow him. Hmm... I didn't want to give my life to him, even though he already gave his life to me.
So I stand in humility, and I stand in awe. I am humbled by Jesus' persistant and abundant love. I am in awe of his willingness to die for those who don't even know they are killing him. And I am grateful. More than ever, I am grateful for that day 2000 years ago when Jesus proved that nothing, not even the pain of death, could keep him away.
Monday, March 19, 2007
February
So if you didn't notice, I didn't write much in February. And I know some of you are dying to know what happened while I was gone, so here it is.
A lot happened in February, and the funny part is that I can't talk about a majority of it because of confidentiality laws and simple respect for a family's privacy. But I can talk about what I learned - and what I am still learning - from my experience.
I need Jesus.
I've always known that I need Jesus. My life has always been better when He is in it, when I bring Him into my life, but I realized this need in a new way, or maybe a way I once new but completely forgot.
I have always turned to Jesus for joy. If I'm sad, depressed, angry, upset, sick, tired, neutral, or even happy or content, I turn to Jesus to bring me true joy or to make it complete. I thank Him, I praise Him, I love Him. And this, I think, is great. Receiving joy from my relationship with Jesus has been a huge part of my life that I am very greatful for.
But many times, maybe more often then I would like to admit, there is a time to mourn.
I ran into one of these times of mourning and sadness when the *event that I can't talk about* began to unfold.
And I almost ran right past it.
I'd get up, complain about being tired, eat breakfast, go to work, realize again how great work is, read or walk during my lunch break, work some more, try to be more helpful in the office and grow friendships with my coworkers, go to the gym, listen to my music, eat a big dinner, relax a bit, laugh some, read the news, maybe read some more of my book, or watch some LOST, maybe pray with my roommates, then go to bed with the hope that I would be rested enough for the next day.
It was always when I went to bed that I would realize that I hadn't taken the time to think about the family that was struggling. I hadn't taken time to let their situation affect me, upset me, move me. I hadn't felt love for them in the way that I thought I loved them.
This lasted maybe two or three days, and then I sunk like a rock. I'm still not quite sure what happened, but a lot of things came tumbling down. While realizing that I couldn't feel pain for the family, I realized a lot of pain within myself. The worst of it was that nothing horrible had happened. The family, while going through hard times, was still relatively okay - everyone was alive and as healthy as they were when I met them. My life was going really well too. I spent a lot of quality time with my friends, I had a really good review at work, my family was doing well, and life was "good" according to any outsider's perspective. I thought that I should be content, able to love and pray for the family with the hope that it would get better. Instead, I was a mess.
And this is when I realized I needed Jesus. If I was going to try and mourn and grieve, and feel the pain of suffering all by myself, I was going to die.
I am way too mortal to carry such a heavy burden.
Finding myself completely depressed, I started praying longer and harder than I have in a long time. I don't think I said much. I just asked Jesus to help me. Sometimes I would tell Him that this grief was too difficult. Sometimes I would decide that it wasn't worth the effort. The weight of the package wasn't worth what was inside. I would think about what it would be like if I stopped trying to follow this god that was allowing me to cry so much.
I probably wouldn't cry as much...
But I wouldn't be content as often either...
And then I made it to the other side. I decided to stick it through with Jesus, and the weight/wait was worth it. The last time I had felt that depressed, I tried to ride it out without God's help and it took me about 6 months. This time took me about 3 weeks. I have also been able to better express my love for the family and for others. I have been able to pray more deeply, to love more unconditionally, and to be sad and upset without being depressed and unhelpful. Of course, I have a long way to go and a lot of ways to improve, but its a start.
--------------------------------------------------------
And now I am to the part that I am still learning.
I guess I am learning how to be aware of when it is time to mourn, when it is time to celebrate, and when it is time to be somewhere in the middle, and how my relationship with Jesus fits into ALL of that. It's a really basic idea, but it is easy to forget.
My friend Aaron (hi aaron!) gave me a fresh perspective on joy and sorrow when he described to me two types of people:
There are those who see sadness as genuine. Wanting to be genuine, they look for sadness. I guess you could call them pessimists. Even when something is going well, they find something wrong with it. They might say something like "It could be better if this weren't like that."
There are those who see happiness as genuine. Wanting to be genuine, they look for happiness. Optimists. Even when something goes wrong, they say "Well at least its okay because this is like that."
They are both trying to have a true, clear perspective on life, but half the time they are running right past it. Neither of those people are grasping the fullness of life; the life that, according to my experience in February, God wants us to have.
A lot happened in February, and the funny part is that I can't talk about a majority of it because of confidentiality laws and simple respect for a family's privacy. But I can talk about what I learned - and what I am still learning - from my experience.
I need Jesus.
I've always known that I need Jesus. My life has always been better when He is in it, when I bring Him into my life, but I realized this need in a new way, or maybe a way I once new but completely forgot.
I have always turned to Jesus for joy. If I'm sad, depressed, angry, upset, sick, tired, neutral, or even happy or content, I turn to Jesus to bring me true joy or to make it complete. I thank Him, I praise Him, I love Him. And this, I think, is great. Receiving joy from my relationship with Jesus has been a huge part of my life that I am very greatful for.
But many times, maybe more often then I would like to admit, there is a time to mourn.
I ran into one of these times of mourning and sadness when the *event that I can't talk about* began to unfold.
And I almost ran right past it.
I'd get up, complain about being tired, eat breakfast, go to work, realize again how great work is, read or walk during my lunch break, work some more, try to be more helpful in the office and grow friendships with my coworkers, go to the gym, listen to my music, eat a big dinner, relax a bit, laugh some, read the news, maybe read some more of my book, or watch some LOST, maybe pray with my roommates, then go to bed with the hope that I would be rested enough for the next day.
It was always when I went to bed that I would realize that I hadn't taken the time to think about the family that was struggling. I hadn't taken time to let their situation affect me, upset me, move me. I hadn't felt love for them in the way that I thought I loved them.
This lasted maybe two or three days, and then I sunk like a rock. I'm still not quite sure what happened, but a lot of things came tumbling down. While realizing that I couldn't feel pain for the family, I realized a lot of pain within myself. The worst of it was that nothing horrible had happened. The family, while going through hard times, was still relatively okay - everyone was alive and as healthy as they were when I met them. My life was going really well too. I spent a lot of quality time with my friends, I had a really good review at work, my family was doing well, and life was "good" according to any outsider's perspective. I thought that I should be content, able to love and pray for the family with the hope that it would get better. Instead, I was a mess.
And this is when I realized I needed Jesus. If I was going to try and mourn and grieve, and feel the pain of suffering all by myself, I was going to die.
I am way too mortal to carry such a heavy burden.
Finding myself completely depressed, I started praying longer and harder than I have in a long time. I don't think I said much. I just asked Jesus to help me. Sometimes I would tell Him that this grief was too difficult. Sometimes I would decide that it wasn't worth the effort. The weight of the package wasn't worth what was inside. I would think about what it would be like if I stopped trying to follow this god that was allowing me to cry so much.
I probably wouldn't cry as much...
But I wouldn't be content as often either...
And then I made it to the other side. I decided to stick it through with Jesus, and the weight/wait was worth it. The last time I had felt that depressed, I tried to ride it out without God's help and it took me about 6 months. This time took me about 3 weeks. I have also been able to better express my love for the family and for others. I have been able to pray more deeply, to love more unconditionally, and to be sad and upset without being depressed and unhelpful. Of course, I have a long way to go and a lot of ways to improve, but its a start.
--------------------------------------------------------
And now I am to the part that I am still learning.
I guess I am learning how to be aware of when it is time to mourn, when it is time to celebrate, and when it is time to be somewhere in the middle, and how my relationship with Jesus fits into ALL of that. It's a really basic idea, but it is easy to forget.
My friend Aaron (hi aaron!) gave me a fresh perspective on joy and sorrow when he described to me two types of people:
There are those who see sadness as genuine. Wanting to be genuine, they look for sadness. I guess you could call them pessimists. Even when something is going well, they find something wrong with it. They might say something like "It could be better if this weren't like that."
There are those who see happiness as genuine. Wanting to be genuine, they look for happiness. Optimists. Even when something goes wrong, they say "Well at least its okay because this is like that."
They are both trying to have a true, clear perspective on life, but half the time they are running right past it. Neither of those people are grasping the fullness of life; the life that, according to my experience in February, God wants us to have.
Monday, January 29, 2007
Homeless
"Home" is a concept that I have a hard time understanding.
My parents and I moved every two or three years when I was growing up, and I LOVED it. We never moved far - always an hour drive this way or that way, but I was excited every time to have a new place to call "home." "Homesick" is another term I don't understand.
When I left on summer trips, when I went to college, when I studied in Australia for a semester, when I traveled this summer, I didn't get "homesick." Ask my parents. They never knew if I was alive or dead because I never called them and I never even thought about home.
I always thought that my love to move and my ability to not miss home showed that I adapt well to new places and situations. I thought it meant that I was flexible and comfortable in a variety of environments...
But then I went to Central City Community Church of the Nazarene. The service was incredible. It was one of the best services I have been to in a long time. "A piece of heaven," said my housemate Erin. Why was it so good? I have to give the pastor props, because his sermon was off-the-charts amazing. But I have heard some #1 hits before and they didn't always leave me feeling like I just walked through heaven's doors.
As I sat among the church congregation, I tried to figure out what made these people and this place so wonderful.
Then it hit me. The majority of the people that attend this church are homeless. The strangest realization for me was that I felt like I was one of them, struggling and hoping for the same things as them. At first I was almost angry with myself. My life is so easy compared to theirs. How could I be so ignorant to flippantly feel like I related with their struggles? How could I say that I felt like these men and women who have no place of their own were my family? I couldn't tell them that I understood what they were going through. I hated telling them I lived in Pasadena when they asked where I stayed. If one of them asked me for money on a street corner, I might not even give it to them. So how could I, albeit slightly ironically, feel like this place was "home-sweet-home" and these people were my family?Then it hit me again.
Praising God with this congregation was sweet to my soul because we all understood something crucial:
This life is not "home."
We agreed together that we know what "home" is supposed to be like, and this life was not it. We were longing together for something better, something perfect. We wanted not only the best for ourselves, but the best for each other. And we all knew where to look for it. We knew we could find a home in God, and that is where we put our hearts, capturing the idea that "home is where the heart is."
As I sat with the my brothers and sisters in Christ, praying for peace, asking for justice, hoping for breakthrough, committing to persevere through pain and temptation, I realized that this is what I had been looking for every time I moved when I was little. Being with a community that understood where "home" is is what I had been longing for. I was never homesick because there was no home to miss - I hadn't found it yet.
So I guess I can officially say that I am homesick. I desire a home the way a home should be. I am sick for a place where no one is in need, no one is in pain, and no one is left behind. I want to live in shalom, a place of peace. Who doesn't?
And as I write this, I realize that I am homesick for Africa (Ghana in particular) because of the community I found there. I found men and women greatly affected by and unsettled with the circumstances of an unjust world. They strive for something better, and live with the hope, faith, and understanding that the best home of all is discovered within a life that is committed to following Jesus.
For my friends in Ghana and the Central City church, the pain of every-day life in a broken world is sometimes too hard to bear, but they continue on with smiles on their faces because they know exactly where home is and what home is not. Life is hard, and they don't always smile, but they know where to find joy, where to find satisfaction, and where to find the comfort of a true home.
May God bless them and give them relief as they endure suffering that I will never fully understand and as we long and pray together for the home of peace and joy that God has promised us.
My parents and I moved every two or three years when I was growing up, and I LOVED it. We never moved far - always an hour drive this way or that way, but I was excited every time to have a new place to call "home." "Homesick" is another term I don't understand.
When I left on summer trips, when I went to college, when I studied in Australia for a semester, when I traveled this summer, I didn't get "homesick." Ask my parents. They never knew if I was alive or dead because I never called them and I never even thought about home.
I always thought that my love to move and my ability to not miss home showed that I adapt well to new places and situations. I thought it meant that I was flexible and comfortable in a variety of environments...
But then I went to Central City Community Church of the Nazarene. The service was incredible. It was one of the best services I have been to in a long time. "A piece of heaven," said my housemate Erin. Why was it so good? I have to give the pastor props, because his sermon was off-the-charts amazing. But I have heard some #1 hits before and they didn't always leave me feeling like I just walked through heaven's doors.
As I sat among the church congregation, I tried to figure out what made these people and this place so wonderful.
Then it hit me. The majority of the people that attend this church are homeless. The strangest realization for me was that I felt like I was one of them, struggling and hoping for the same things as them. At first I was almost angry with myself. My life is so easy compared to theirs. How could I be so ignorant to flippantly feel like I related with their struggles? How could I say that I felt like these men and women who have no place of their own were my family? I couldn't tell them that I understood what they were going through. I hated telling them I lived in Pasadena when they asked where I stayed. If one of them asked me for money on a street corner, I might not even give it to them. So how could I, albeit slightly ironically, feel like this place was "home-sweet-home" and these people were my family?Then it hit me again.
Praising God with this congregation was sweet to my soul because we all understood something crucial:
This life is not "home."
We agreed together that we know what "home" is supposed to be like, and this life was not it. We were longing together for something better, something perfect. We wanted not only the best for ourselves, but the best for each other. And we all knew where to look for it. We knew we could find a home in God, and that is where we put our hearts, capturing the idea that "home is where the heart is."
As I sat with the my brothers and sisters in Christ, praying for peace, asking for justice, hoping for breakthrough, committing to persevere through pain and temptation, I realized that this is what I had been looking for every time I moved when I was little. Being with a community that understood where "home" is is what I had been longing for. I was never homesick because there was no home to miss - I hadn't found it yet.
So I guess I can officially say that I am homesick. I desire a home the way a home should be. I am sick for a place where no one is in need, no one is in pain, and no one is left behind. I want to live in shalom, a place of peace. Who doesn't?
And as I write this, I realize that I am homesick for Africa (Ghana in particular) because of the community I found there. I found men and women greatly affected by and unsettled with the circumstances of an unjust world. They strive for something better, and live with the hope, faith, and understanding that the best home of all is discovered within a life that is committed to following Jesus.
For my friends in Ghana and the Central City church, the pain of every-day life in a broken world is sometimes too hard to bear, but they continue on with smiles on their faces because they know exactly where home is and what home is not. Life is hard, and they don't always smile, but they know where to find joy, where to find satisfaction, and where to find the comfort of a true home.
May God bless them and give them relief as they endure suffering that I will never fully understand and as we long and pray together for the home of peace and joy that God has promised us.
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