i don't know where i left off, but let me fill you in with what has happened so far...
(mind you this is the very abridged version)
we were in chongzhou (chun-zoh) working with high school student through different events and themed days to build reletionships by which we could then talk about the Father and the Good News. we went to the school two times a day and we stayed in a hotel about a 15 minute walk away from the school, so we definately got a work out. not to mention the five flights of stairs we had to climb to our rooms. we visited villages and tryed to help were we could in the city picking up trach and clean stores and what not. that was difficult just because the chinese cannot fathom why americans would want to serve them. but we're all about breaking stereotypes here. we also visited the stone forest which was an adventure.
currently we are in jieyiang (jie-young). were staying at a private school where we work with teachers and students in a similar but differnt program. it's a language camp where anyone who knows some english can improve, but the purpose is the same- to build relationships through which we can introduce the Father. here, we've climbed a mountain. and by climbed a mountain i mean we've climbed 1,746 steps to the top of a mountain. IT WAS AMAZING! and we also went to the 10,000 bamboo forest, which was also interseting and beautiful.
the Father has really been doing a good work here in China and in our family. He grows us and strengthens us each day and it's impossible not to see His majesty in the Vastness that is China. there are 6 million people in the city we are currently in. and that's a small city... i don't even know if it's on a map. all that to say, He is big and we have definately seen that here.
i hope this finds you well and that the Father blesses you. thank you for your words and continue to give thanks to Him and with others.
peace,
sara.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
this is a tricky business
training camp came and went and before i knew it we were in china. and i know it's been a long, long while since i wrote anything, and perhaps you're wondering what about the second semester? well, i'll do what i can to catch up later, but for now, let's focus on the present.
china is nothing like i expected. we don't eat rice at every meal, there are no egg rolls, two seconds out the door and you're swimming in your shorts and through the air it's so thick with humidity. people here do not all look the same, there isn't a mcdonalds within 50 miles of our hotel. not everyone i've run into is a genius. the people here are extremely friendly, though i've been assured that that is because i'm american. it doesn't bother me anymore to be stopped by some random person asking to take my picture. people everywhere, old and young, yell out whatever english they know nad get such a thrill to see us turn and reply. it's like a unspoken game between us and them. look and the funny americans and laugh. it's actually quite wonderful. i was telling our amaing teacher earlier how blessed i have been to have visited three very different cultures within this last year.
and i was just informed i have about four minutes so i'm going to wrap it up and i'll write more later.
i hope the father blesses you and that this find you well.
peace brothers and sisters.
sara.
china is nothing like i expected. we don't eat rice at every meal, there are no egg rolls, two seconds out the door and you're swimming in your shorts and through the air it's so thick with humidity. people here do not all look the same, there isn't a mcdonalds within 50 miles of our hotel. not everyone i've run into is a genius. the people here are extremely friendly, though i've been assured that that is because i'm american. it doesn't bother me anymore to be stopped by some random person asking to take my picture. people everywhere, old and young, yell out whatever english they know nad get such a thrill to see us turn and reply. it's like a unspoken game between us and them. look and the funny americans and laugh. it's actually quite wonderful. i was telling our amaing teacher earlier how blessed i have been to have visited three very different cultures within this last year.
and i was just informed i have about four minutes so i'm going to wrap it up and i'll write more later.
i hope the father blesses you and that this find you well.
peace brothers and sisters.
sara.
Thursday, April 3, 2008
spurgeon paper
another paper for class. the title analogy is a bit shotty, but roll with me.
"breakfast at tiffany’s" During the formative years of my life, the following events took place: freshman year of high school—enrolled in a four year culinary arts program that led to an internship and job during senior year; sophomore year—quit the culinary program to get into advanced acting and began piano lessons; junior year—quit acting because of differences with the teacher and tried my hand at adolescent psychology, also quit piano lessons; senior year—dropped the two year pysch program due to too much self-diagnosing and completed computer literacy and dance (not simultaneously). And while I was able to stick through four years of water polo, I only participated in two years of swimming and one year of track, because I just wasn’t having fun. Longest job: ten months. Shortest job: two weeks. College drop-out.
After hearing this resume, most would say I have some commitment issues. I would say they are very correct. But what’s the big deal? I mean, isn’t it good to keep your options open in case something better comes along? Really, I’m just being flexible to my environment, and blessed are the flexible… right? Perhaps I’m just kidding myself out of thinking I’m simply a product of my generation—a generation that when the going gets tough, we runaway. We all talk a big talk, but when it comes to keeping our nose to the grindstone, we huff and wince and say, “But that thing smells and I just got my nails done, so I really don’t want to get my hands dirty and I think I just heard…uh, Bob… call my… um, I’m just gonna see if he needs help with… paperclips?” What’s happening is we’ve lost focus in developing key values of character and what’s worse is it’s infiltrating an area of our lives that should be steady as a rock—our relationship with God.
So what do we do? Well, if we can’t help ourselves, we should look to someone else to help us. Case in point: Charles Spurgeon. We can look to Spurgeon for his examples in discipline. He recognized that the most important thing in life is our relationship with God and when you are dedicated to Him, being dedicated to others and to other things almost comes naturally. Through Spurgeon, we can understand that character does not come from accidentally having the right genes or a responsibility you gain when you turn 21; it comes from a willingness to suffer, to build a faith that endures because of a deep love for the Lord.
One of the biggest contributors to complacency in my generation today is due to our unwillingness to step out and take a risk, because with risk there is an opportunity for failure, and failure many times leads to suffering. We have it ingrained in our brains that if we do anything, we will suffer the consequences. I wonder if for Christians, this sentiment is heightened because we see failure as being eternally worse. So instead we construct rules to adhere to, because as much as we may say we don’t like rules at least it gives us a standard to live by, so when we get to heaven we can say, “But God, I followed your rules. I lived to the standard.” Perhaps that’s true, but following God doesn’t equate a relationship with God. I can follow the instructions sent to me through a computer, but unless I leave my cubicle, I’ll never know why I’m doing them and, perhaps more importantly, I’ll never know the one sending them. Unless I leave my box, however sturdy, however comfortable, however familiar it may be, I’ll never become a better worker; I’ll only be a robot, typing away information for no reason. Spurgeon, being a man drowned by suffering (and by that, I mean hardship), says, “A mother’s heart cries, ‘Spare my child’; but no mother is more compassionate than our gracious God” (129). It’s as if we think that in stepping out and very likely, failing, God will shake His head at us, strike us down in His almighty wrath… there are a bunch of Christians running around who have forgotten how to live by grace and I’m one of them. Spurgeon explains this is not the character of God, and if we can’t trust in the infallible character of God, what is faith?
Well, some might say that faith is believing the Truth. In the Christians life, faith is believing that God is who He says He is and that He’ll do what He says He’ll do. But it seems like this is one of the most difficult things to do as a Christian, as mentioned above. It’s interesting how these two concepts are essentially codependent on each other; that in order to build up an enduring faith, we must be willing to suffer (like Romans 5:3-5) and that it also takes faith to step out to be willing to suffer. This challenge of faith becomes less of a challenge as we become completely and utterly dependent on God. And this doesn’t mean that only for life issues do we thrust all our cares on God and believe that He will carry us through (not that we shouldn’t do that), but are we really able to trust Him in the most challenging areas of out lives when we refuse to let Him take control and work the least areas of life. Spurgeon says that, “We generally make out worst blunders about things that are perfectly easy, when the thing is so plain that we do not ask God to guide us, because we think our own common sense will be sufficient, and so we commit grave errors” (43). How radical would our faith be if we cast every area of our life upon God? I mean, that’s all He really asked of us anyway, right? I believe that if the body of Christ, if I, began to consciously throw every part of my life on God, laid if all at His feet, not only would it become less of a task-that-I-must-do, but our love for God would grow deeper through this act of humility.
Now, I’ll admit, a part of me wants to laugh and say this is a lot easier said than done, but it fundamentally isn’t. The reason it appears difficult is because it would require from me a sense of discipline that I’m really not use to. Because how I’m I supposed to trust the character of God unless I know God's character and the only way to know someone’s character, is to get to spend time with them. What it takes is dedication. Spurgeon draws a really interesting analogy between us and a squirrel in a tree, explaining, “I wondered and admired the beech, but I thought to myself, I do not think half as much of this beech as yonder squirrel does. I see him leap from bough to bough, and I feel sure that he dearly values the old beech tree, because he has his home somewhere inside it in a hollow place, these branches are his shelter, and those beechnuts are his food. He lives upon the tree… With God’s word it is well for us to be like squirrels, living in it and living on it” (106). In order to have faith in the first place, we must know what we are claiming to have faith in.
Personally, all this is a little daunting to look at and read as something that is being called out of me. And yet there is encouragement in the fact that it is possible. Spurgeon would be the example of how these few aspects of our walk with God work together, weaving into each other to create in us a real sense of who God is and who God wants us to be. I believe that at the root of everything, God is really calling us to one thing—commitment. Through commitment, feelings can grow. In commitment, we can love God and those around us as He loved us. Because really, love is a commitment. Jesus was committed, in love with His Father and His children, when He paid our debt with His blood. So maybe now it’s my turn to settle down, commit and give the cat a name.
"breakfast at tiffany’s"
After hearing this resume, most would say I have some commitment issues. I would say they are very correct. But what’s the big deal? I mean, isn’t it good to keep your options open in case something better comes along? Really, I’m just being flexible to my environment, and blessed are the flexible… right? Perhaps I’m just kidding myself out of thinking I’m simply a product of my generation—a generation that when the going gets tough, we runaway. We all talk a big talk, but when it comes to keeping our nose to the grindstone, we huff and wince and say, “But that thing smells and I just got my nails done, so I really don’t want to get my hands dirty and I think I just heard…uh, Bob… call my… um, I’m just gonna see if he needs help with… paperclips?” What’s happening is we’ve lost focus in developing key values of character and what’s worse is it’s infiltrating an area of our lives that should be steady as a rock—our relationship with God.
So what do we do? Well, if we can’t help ourselves, we should look to someone else to help us. Case in point: Charles Spurgeon. We can look to Spurgeon for his examples in discipline. He recognized that the most important thing in life is our relationship with God and when you are dedicated to Him, being dedicated to others and to other things almost comes naturally. Through Spurgeon, we can understand that character does not come from accidentally having the right genes or a responsibility you gain when you turn 21; it comes from a willingness to suffer, to build a faith that endures because of a deep love for the Lord.
One of the biggest contributors to complacency in my generation today is due to our unwillingness to step out and take a risk, because with risk there is an opportunity for failure, and failure many times leads to suffering. We have it ingrained in our brains that if we do anything, we will suffer the consequences. I wonder if for Christians, this sentiment is heightened because we see failure as being eternally worse. So instead we construct rules to adhere to, because as much as we may say we don’t like rules at least it gives us a standard to live by, so when we get to heaven we can say, “But God, I followed your rules. I lived to the standard.” Perhaps that’s true, but following God doesn’t equate a relationship with God. I can follow the instructions sent to me through a computer, but unless I leave my cubicle, I’ll never know why I’m doing them and, perhaps more importantly, I’ll never know the one sending them. Unless I leave my box, however sturdy, however comfortable, however familiar it may be, I’ll never become a better worker; I’ll only be a robot, typing away information for no reason. Spurgeon, being a man drowned by suffering (and by that, I mean hardship), says, “A mother’s heart cries, ‘Spare my child’; but no mother is more compassionate than our gracious God” (129). It’s as if we think that in stepping out and very likely, failing, God will shake His head at us, strike us down in His almighty wrath… there are a bunch of Christians running around who have forgotten how to live by grace and I’m one of them. Spurgeon explains this is not the character of God, and if we can’t trust in the infallible character of God, what is faith?
Well, some might say that faith is believing the Truth. In the Christians life, faith is believing that God is who He says He is and that He’ll do what He says He’ll do. But it seems like this is one of the most difficult things to do as a Christian, as mentioned above. It’s interesting how these two concepts are essentially codependent on each other; that in order to build up an enduring faith, we must be willing to suffer (like Romans 5:3-5) and that it also takes faith to step out to be willing to suffer. This challenge of faith becomes less of a challenge as we become completely and utterly dependent on God. And this doesn’t mean that only for life issues do we thrust all our cares on God and believe that He will carry us through (not that we shouldn’t do that), but are we really able to trust Him in the most challenging areas of out lives when we refuse to let Him take control and work the least areas of life. Spurgeon says that, “We generally make out worst blunders about things that are perfectly easy, when the thing is so plain that we do not ask God to guide us, because we think our own common sense will be sufficient, and so we commit grave errors” (43). How radical would our faith be if we cast every area of our life upon God? I mean, that’s all He really asked of us anyway, right? I believe that if the body of Christ, if I, began to consciously throw every part of my life on God, laid if all at His feet, not only would it become less of a task-that-I-must-do, but our love for God would grow deeper through this act of humility.
Now, I’ll admit, a part of me wants to laugh and say this is a lot easier said than done, but it fundamentally isn’t. The reason it appears difficult is because it would require from me a sense of discipline that I’m really not use to. Because how I’m I supposed to trust the character of God unless I know God's character and the only way to know someone’s character, is to get to spend time with them. What it takes is dedication. Spurgeon draws a really interesting analogy between us and a squirrel in a tree, explaining, “I wondered and admired the beech, but I thought to myself, I do not think half as much of this beech as yonder squirrel does. I see him leap from bough to bough, and I feel sure that he dearly values the old beech tree, because he has his home somewhere inside it in a hollow place, these branches are his shelter, and those beechnuts are his food. He lives upon the tree… With God’s word it is well for us to be like squirrels, living in it and living on it” (106). In order to have faith in the first place, we must know what we are claiming to have faith in.
Personally, all this is a little daunting to look at and read as something that is being called out of me. And yet there is encouragement in the fact that it is possible. Spurgeon would be the example of how these few aspects of our walk with God work together, weaving into each other to create in us a real sense of who God is and who God wants us to be. I believe that at the root of everything, God is really calling us to one thing—commitment. Through commitment, feelings can grow. In commitment, we can love God and those around us as He loved us. Because really, love is a commitment. Jesus was committed, in love with His Father and His children, when He paid our debt with His blood. So maybe now it’s my turn to settle down, commit and give the cat a name.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
part 2: letter from debriefing
it was strange for me- to step off a plane in a country so unfamiliar, knowing what i intend to do and yet not having any clue, really, what i'm getting myself into. i mean, can we ever really grasp what outreach is? how God can potentially move? what are we getting ourselves into?
life...
taking one step at a time...
trust...
the root of faith...
it feels like i've been preparing for so long, building up my belief, my faith, that this is right- what i'm about to do is right and good and purposed. (it's a pride issue...) but as you walk out of the terminal and into the heat and the red dust and the sweet bite of sweat, doubt takes over. what if? remind yourself
it is...
it will...
you will...
they will...
He will...
and so it begins. and putting all that aside, i hop in the van, off to immerse myself in the village horde. we drive, and as i watch out the window, and i see a man stumble into a wall, the brick providing the support his legs cannot, because the deflated paper bag he clutches in his hand has taken his strength and replaced it with an unreality, my reality hits, once again.
we're not in kansas anymore.
my shelteredness astounds me. are these people so different then me? life point one of trip: i am not better, nor is my culture better, than anyone or anything presented here. i must accept that i live in a broken world, and this mircocosm is not worse off than the one i'm familiar with in the states and i'm not here to save it because i can't.
two days later, we reach our first village. once more, even though i lack a mirror, i'm faced with Pride. and i play with the children and try to speak spanish with them, but she's there, screaming in the back of my mind HOW DARE YOU BE HAPPIER THAN ME! you, who have no shoes and live in huts where bugs can kill your heart... reason works my Pride, saying i have more, i have better, therefore i am... i should be... but i only think that because i have experienced a life where i can have more and have taken more. my mind says they should be unhappy because they don't have better but why should they be when they cannot fathom my mind's standard of "better". better for them is a house with a cement floor and a tin roof, the ibuprofen i take for granted, flip-flops i naver think twice about... better for them is life with Jesus and i found myself in quick and dire need of an attitude change. instead of letting the devil work in my emotions and raise my Pride and make me angry that these people lead happier, more content lives then me, i chose to act in the opposite and do my best to help the villagers in anyway i can and rejoice with them in the small pleasure of life. leading to life point two of the trip: americans have everything but time, therefore we never share it with you. hondurans don't have anything but time, therefore they give it with you.
see, what was happening was, as i dwelled in the thoughts of gross superiority, i lost focus and lost interest and lost energy. i began thinking it was pointless, worhtless, that i wasn't really doing anything, because these people could never know, would never know, what i have. (oh, come on. like that's really what's important, sara.) the more i didn't do because i thought it didn't matter, the less i wanted to do. so i forced myself to neglect me and hang out with the kids, sing a song, play soccer... and you know what happened? when i was able to get over myself, i found i was falling more and more in love with the people, with my environment and with my God. because, with the focus off of me, i was able to see that everyone wants to know they are loved and everyone wants to know they are worthwhile. enter life point three of the trip: do something. newton's law of inertia says that an object at rest will stay at rest; an object in motion will stay in motion (i know i over-simplified it, but you get the picture), and i believe God may know a thing or two about physics, so... maybe i should trust Him.
maybe i should trust Him.
more.
often.
life...
taking one step at a time...
trust...
the root of faith...
it feels like i've been preparing for so long, building up my belief, my faith, that this is right- what i'm about to do is right and good and purposed. (it's a pride issue...) but as you walk out of the terminal and into the heat and the red dust and the sweet bite of sweat, doubt takes over. what if? remind yourself
it is...
it will...
you will...
they will...
He will...
and so it begins. and putting all that aside, i hop in the van, off to immerse myself in the village horde. we drive, and as i watch out the window, and i see a man stumble into a wall, the brick providing the support his legs cannot, because the deflated paper bag he clutches in his hand has taken his strength and replaced it with an unreality, my reality hits, once again.
we're not in kansas anymore.
my shelteredness astounds me. are these people so different then me? life point one of trip: i am not better, nor is my culture better, than anyone or anything presented here. i must accept that i live in a broken world, and this mircocosm is not worse off than the one i'm familiar with in the states and i'm not here to save it because i can't.
two days later, we reach our first village. once more, even though i lack a mirror, i'm faced with Pride. and i play with the children and try to speak spanish with them, but she's there, screaming in the back of my mind HOW DARE YOU BE HAPPIER THAN ME! you, who have no shoes and live in huts where bugs can kill your heart... reason works my Pride, saying i have more, i have better, therefore i am... i should be... but i only think that because i have experienced a life where i can have more and have taken more. my mind says they should be unhappy because they don't have better but why should they be when they cannot fathom my mind's standard of "better". better for them is a house with a cement floor and a tin roof, the ibuprofen i take for granted, flip-flops i naver think twice about... better for them is life with Jesus and i found myself in quick and dire need of an attitude change. instead of letting the devil work in my emotions and raise my Pride and make me angry that these people lead happier, more content lives then me, i chose to act in the opposite and do my best to help the villagers in anyway i can and rejoice with them in the small pleasure of life. leading to life point two of the trip: americans have everything but time, therefore we never share it with you. hondurans don't have anything but time, therefore they give it with you.
see, what was happening was, as i dwelled in the thoughts of gross superiority, i lost focus and lost interest and lost energy. i began thinking it was pointless, worhtless, that i wasn't really doing anything, because these people could never know, would never know, what i have. (oh, come on. like that's really what's important, sara.) the more i didn't do because i thought it didn't matter, the less i wanted to do. so i forced myself to neglect me and hang out with the kids, sing a song, play soccer... and you know what happened? when i was able to get over myself, i found i was falling more and more in love with the people, with my environment and with my God. because, with the focus off of me, i was able to see that everyone wants to know they are loved and everyone wants to know they are worthwhile. enter life point three of the trip: do something. newton's law of inertia says that an object at rest will stay at rest; an object in motion will stay in motion (i know i over-simplified it, but you get the picture), and i believe God may know a thing or two about physics, so... maybe i should trust Him.
maybe i should trust Him.
more.
often.
Monday, March 17, 2008
been a long time coming
i know.
i'm terrible.
forgive me.
but these last couple months have been near indescrible in their velocity and magnitude. it's been movement since january. blitz lived up to it's name and flew by. not only did we meet some amazing kids who i can't wait to see on the hayfeild in june, but it provided a vital time where we could grow from being students with a kairos commonality to a family of confidants. it was vital because right after blitz we headed to honduras and i believe that if we had not been as tight as we were, outreach would have been a very difficult task. but it was amazing, not only in what we saw and did, but i was blessed to learn more about my brothers and sisters, to witness their passion and see their hearts. there were moments when i was seriously astonished by how well we worked as a team, getting construction projects done quickly; how positve we stayed, living out of blue duffel bags and sleeping on cement floors in cramped one room schools; how encouraging we were to each other, after the rain caused our five hour hike through the rainforest to a very slippery, very dirty one.
(sidenote: even though it was long and hot and extremely dirty and uphill and downhill, it was the most demanding, cleansing, wonderful, beautiful experiences of my life and i would trek those opolaca mountains with just three litters of water and my bible on my back again any day.)
honduras was like clean water through my spitiual digestive system; it washed me out but i felt refreshed and energized and stregthened, not just by the love we tried to show the villagers, but the love that they reciprocated to us. we didn't just bring the joy with us; we were met with joy everywhere we went.
and then there was spring break, which after driving to minnesota, driving to wisconsin, driving back to minnesota, driving to chicago, driving to kansas, and flying to san jose, left me more exhausted then all the hiking in honduras. but i had some wonderful time at home, spending it with friends and family and trying to soak in as much sun as possible before returning to kansas. good thing too because it's been gray and rainy the last couple of days.
and now we're getting back into the swing of things. we're all a little awkward around each other, but i blame that on our lack of team momentum. soon enough the old jokes will return and one on ones and the love that at times is a little too much and then we'll be begging for a break.
but for now, life has resumed and it is as it always was and it is as it should be and it is right.
it is right.
it's good to be back.
i'm terrible.
forgive me.
but these last couple months have been near indescrible in their velocity and magnitude. it's been movement since january. blitz lived up to it's name and flew by. not only did we meet some amazing kids who i can't wait to see on the hayfeild in june, but it provided a vital time where we could grow from being students with a kairos commonality to a family of confidants. it was vital because right after blitz we headed to honduras and i believe that if we had not been as tight as we were, outreach would have been a very difficult task. but it was amazing, not only in what we saw and did, but i was blessed to learn more about my brothers and sisters, to witness their passion and see their hearts. there were moments when i was seriously astonished by how well we worked as a team, getting construction projects done quickly; how positve we stayed, living out of blue duffel bags and sleeping on cement floors in cramped one room schools; how encouraging we were to each other, after the rain caused our five hour hike through the rainforest to a very slippery, very dirty one.
(sidenote: even though it was long and hot and extremely dirty and uphill and downhill, it was the most demanding, cleansing, wonderful, beautiful experiences of my life and i would trek those opolaca mountains with just three litters of water and my bible on my back again any day.)
honduras was like clean water through my spitiual digestive system; it washed me out but i felt refreshed and energized and stregthened, not just by the love we tried to show the villagers, but the love that they reciprocated to us. we didn't just bring the joy with us; we were met with joy everywhere we went.
and then there was spring break, which after driving to minnesota, driving to wisconsin, driving back to minnesota, driving to chicago, driving to kansas, and flying to san jose, left me more exhausted then all the hiking in honduras. but i had some wonderful time at home, spending it with friends and family and trying to soak in as much sun as possible before returning to kansas. good thing too because it's been gray and rainy the last couple of days.
and now we're getting back into the swing of things. we're all a little awkward around each other, but i blame that on our lack of team momentum. soon enough the old jokes will return and one on ones and the love that at times is a little too much and then we'll be begging for a break.
but for now, life has resumed and it is as it always was and it is as it should be and it is right.
it is right.
it's good to be back.
Sunday, December 30, 2007
my book report for abba's child
so i thought i'd post the book report we had to do for the last book we read. i know, it sounds boring, but what better way to see (or read in this case) how what we learn in kairos applies to life? plus, it very much reflects my current feelings. so here we go:
“I don’t want to be a pie.”
I wish I could write this report by simply putting together a bunch of quotes from Abba’s Child. But alas, I cannot. I found myself marking every other page, swearing to commit it to memory because of the advice it gave. And by advice, I mean that stuff that you’ll never ask for but that which only the closest people to you can read by the plea in your eyes, not those clichés that people think you need to hear to appease the heart-broken-pity-the-worm feeling in your gut. Abba’s Child was an easy read in that diction was sophisticated, the syntax was rhythmic; the overall prose was poetic. But this “easy read” is the stuff that brings me to tears sitting alone in a busy airport terminal on a cold Saturday morning. So excuse my feeble attempt to make sense of it’s direction. I cannot do it justice in relation to it’s impact on me, but c’est la vie.
I was thinking about what I could title this paper, and came to this, a quote from the movie Chicken Run. It’s silly, the things that stick in your head but anytime I don’t want to do something, for whatever reason, this line comes to mind. I got to thinking about it in comparison to Manning’s talk about the Impostor. I guess for forever long (or so it seems), I believed this Impostor was not just a projection, a façade or a cosmetic. It was innermost part of me; my inherent core. I don’t know that I really wanted to believe that; does anyone want to believe they are “bad” deep deep inside? But I couldn’t understand how to believe differently. So I got to thinking that perhaps those moments when war raged inside of me, those were the moments when my heart realized that this wasn’t true—that it wasn’t bad—and before my head could react, my heart tried to separate me from my Impostor. My mind would wail, “NO! Don’t let Me go,” because I was—I am—so afraid that me would be lost. Manning writes about the Impostor that “if he would become silent within and without he would discover himself to be nothing, he would be left with nothing but his own nothingness, and to the false self which claims to be everything, such a discovery would be his undoing” (pg. 43). I supposed my inconsistency comes from my wanting in desire to witness My undoing.
And I never thought I was deserving of an undoing. Why should anyone care enough to loosen me, untie me from the knots I so quickly tangled myself in? The Impostor, charmingly fragrant, led me to believe that I needed no undoing, because I like everyone else was born rotten and therefore had to learn to be good. See, I never thought I was naturally decent; my impropriety came easy and was likewise downsized as intrinsic. Manning explains it like so, “If we gloss over our selfishness and rationalize the evil within us, we can only pretend we are sinners and therefore only pretend we are sinners. A sham spirituality of pseudo-repentance and pseudo-bliss eventually fashions into what modern psychiatry calls a borderline personality, in which appearances make up for reality” (pg. 154). I think to my friends and the life I left in the desert and how we would always claim to be real. We drink and smoke and never pretend to be perfect like all the other Sunday-best-hands-raised-eyes-closed-when-I-sing hypocrites who run the church. But really we were just relativists dressed up in Christian costumes. We took a “you handle yours and I’ll handle mine” stance on repentance and contentment, hoping against our rationalization that perhaps life might turn out better. But it never did because, even in our supposed hypocritlessness, we were acting. We wanted our authenticity to be bona fide, but we were just playing dress up.
It is the most difficult article to put on—the humility of acknowledged selfishness which leads to seizing His forgiveness and falling into repentance. We may have recognized our evil, but it was in the same way I recognize I’m sitting on a chair. For my friends and I, our sin was what it was and that’s where it stopped. But to wholly accept selfish behavior is to likewise accept that there is an alternate righteous behavior. Sitting down with this knowledge is to stand up with the conviction that there still exists today a force which calls us to virtue. See, if God were dead, this statement would be too. But He’s not. We live, or at least we should, in the awareness of the present riseness of Christ. The reason we don’t is because it would take the inconvenience of pulling on that cloak of humility that allows us to say “yes” to our inadequacy and to accept His perfect capacity. Manning says, “This yes is an act of faith, a decisive, wholehearted response to my whole being to the risen Jesus present beside me, before me, around me and within me; a cry in confidence that my faith in Jesus provides security not only in the face of death but in the face of a worse threat posed by my own malice; a word that must not just be said once but repeated over and over again in the ever-changing landscape of life” (pg. 99).
This is not just the “Help me Jesus” I cry out in the middle of the night. It needs to be the “Help me Jesus” that I whisper under my breath in class, that I breathe into my cold hands before reaching for the frozen handle of the car door, that I pray before I bite into a sandwich. It is my admission that I don’t get it and won’t get it but I’ll make it if I linger a little longer by His side. I don’t need to worry about being made into a pie because I’m not a chicken. I am my Abba’s child and like a daughter clings to her dad for warmth on a windy day, I am holding tight to the strong arm of my Father.
“I don’t want to be a pie.”
I wish I could write this report by simply putting together a bunch of quotes from Abba’s Child. But alas, I cannot. I found myself marking every other page, swearing to commit it to memory because of the advice it gave. And by advice, I mean that stuff that you’ll never ask for but that which only the closest people to you can read by the plea in your eyes, not those clichés that people think you need to hear to appease the heart-broken-pity-the-worm feeling in your gut. Abba’s Child was an easy read in that diction was sophisticated, the syntax was rhythmic; the overall prose was poetic. But this “easy read” is the stuff that brings me to tears sitting alone in a busy airport terminal on a cold Saturday morning. So excuse my feeble attempt to make sense of it’s direction. I cannot do it justice in relation to it’s impact on me, but c’est la vie.
I was thinking about what I could title this paper, and came to this, a quote from the movie Chicken Run. It’s silly, the things that stick in your head but anytime I don’t want to do something, for whatever reason, this line comes to mind. I got to thinking about it in comparison to Manning’s talk about the Impostor. I guess for forever long (or so it seems), I believed this Impostor was not just a projection, a façade or a cosmetic. It was innermost part of me; my inherent core. I don’t know that I really wanted to believe that; does anyone want to believe they are “bad” deep deep inside? But I couldn’t understand how to believe differently. So I got to thinking that perhaps those moments when war raged inside of me, those were the moments when my heart realized that this wasn’t true—that it wasn’t bad—and before my head could react, my heart tried to separate me from my Impostor. My mind would wail, “NO! Don’t let Me go,” because I was—I am—so afraid that me would be lost. Manning writes about the Impostor that “if he would become silent within and without he would discover himself to be nothing, he would be left with nothing but his own nothingness, and to the false self which claims to be everything, such a discovery would be his undoing” (pg. 43). I supposed my inconsistency comes from my wanting in desire to witness My undoing.
And I never thought I was deserving of an undoing. Why should anyone care enough to loosen me, untie me from the knots I so quickly tangled myself in? The Impostor, charmingly fragrant, led me to believe that I needed no undoing, because I like everyone else was born rotten and therefore had to learn to be good. See, I never thought I was naturally decent; my impropriety came easy and was likewise downsized as intrinsic. Manning explains it like so, “If we gloss over our selfishness and rationalize the evil within us, we can only pretend we are sinners and therefore only pretend we are sinners. A sham spirituality of pseudo-repentance and pseudo-bliss eventually fashions into what modern psychiatry calls a borderline personality, in which appearances make up for reality” (pg. 154). I think to my friends and the life I left in the desert and how we would always claim to be real. We drink and smoke and never pretend to be perfect like all the other Sunday-best-hands-raised-eyes-closed-when-I-sing hypocrites who run the church. But really we were just relativists dressed up in Christian costumes. We took a “you handle yours and I’ll handle mine” stance on repentance and contentment, hoping against our rationalization that perhaps life might turn out better. But it never did because, even in our supposed hypocritlessness, we were acting. We wanted our authenticity to be bona fide, but we were just playing dress up.
It is the most difficult article to put on—the humility of acknowledged selfishness which leads to seizing His forgiveness and falling into repentance. We may have recognized our evil, but it was in the same way I recognize I’m sitting on a chair. For my friends and I, our sin was what it was and that’s where it stopped. But to wholly accept selfish behavior is to likewise accept that there is an alternate righteous behavior. Sitting down with this knowledge is to stand up with the conviction that there still exists today a force which calls us to virtue. See, if God were dead, this statement would be too. But He’s not. We live, or at least we should, in the awareness of the present riseness of Christ. The reason we don’t is because it would take the inconvenience of pulling on that cloak of humility that allows us to say “yes” to our inadequacy and to accept His perfect capacity. Manning says, “This yes is an act of faith, a decisive, wholehearted response to my whole being to the risen Jesus present beside me, before me, around me and within me; a cry in confidence that my faith in Jesus provides security not only in the face of death but in the face of a worse threat posed by my own malice; a word that must not just be said once but repeated over and over again in the ever-changing landscape of life” (pg. 99).
This is not just the “Help me Jesus” I cry out in the middle of the night. It needs to be the “Help me Jesus” that I whisper under my breath in class, that I breathe into my cold hands before reaching for the frozen handle of the car door, that I pray before I bite into a sandwich. It is my admission that I don’t get it and won’t get it but I’ll make it if I linger a little longer by His side. I don’t need to worry about being made into a pie because I’m not a chicken. I am my Abba’s child and like a daughter clings to her dad for warmth on a windy day, I am holding tight to the strong arm of my Father.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
hard and cold as earth, baby
IT'S SNOWING! i've never seen this before. it's not thanksgiving yet and there is snow on the ground. CRAZY! okay. moments over. moving on.
man, there is so much to write, i don't even know where to begin. every day i'm learning something new. like, i now know how to crochet beenies. i know, i know... i'm a grandma, but it's a really valuable life lesson. i'm kidding, of course. (about the life lesson part. i really do know how to crochet.)
it's interesting to me that each thing we learn overlaps. it doesn't really fit well in my compartmentalized brain. at school, physics goes in its physics box and english in its english box. but here, spiritual warfare is waged everday, so it is a factor in your relationships and requires constant prayer and knowledge of yourself and your foundations in Christ and the scriptures. that's like the thesis statement of the last weeks. honestly, i've never been good at writing papers for school, so the term "thesis statement" always hinders my ability to compile coherent paragraphs... where am i going with this? i guess the bulk of this paper should be about my foundations and what i've learned about myself. truth be told, it seems like we've spent more time in class figuring out ourselves then we have God, but when you think about it, it makes sense for two reasons. first, if i don't know myself, why would i bother to know the God who created me. that may sound selfish, but most young people i know are so wrapped up in themselves because they are on this journey to "find" themselves. but what do they do when they finally come upon who they are? it seems like the most humble thing to do is figure yourself out so that you can finally forget about you and consentrate on God. and i don't mean this whole time we have lost sight of God; He is actively apart of finding ourselves. i'm sorry. maybe this is confusing. let's continue...
second, it is impossible to understand the unfathomable YHWH, so, since we are created in His image, by learning about myself, His mystery becomes discernable to the confines of my human brain. not that my spiritual gifts or personality traits are a reflection of His capacity, but that they are a glimpse of His magnificence and that He is so so much more than what has been created in me. you still with me? good.
"so what is all "knowing yourself" mumbo-jumbo your talking about here?" well, we took a personality test and a spiritual gift inventory, which were frighteningly accurate and shocking, respectively. first was the personality element profile (pep). it divides personailties into four major elements-earth, wind, fire and water. of these, i am an earth, through and through. pretty much, you can just think about the element and know the traits of its owner. i'm accurate, organized, focused, serious, steady, dedicated, slow moving, structured and conscientious. sound right? ain't gonna lie, it's a little difficult in the dynamic of kairos. i'm the only double earth; shane is also an earth, but he's blended with water, so he's more adaptable and easy-going. most everyone else is some degree of a wind, the element completely opposite to me. they're all flexible and talkative and emotion-driven and sometimes, they just bug me. but that's the point behind this-to figure ourselves out so that we can learn the best ways to interact and work with one another.
then there was the spiritual gift inventory. if you look in romans, paul lists several motivational gifts; this is the list the test is based on. what's great is that we didn't just learn what areas we're gifted in, we also learned what it means to have spiritual gifts and why and how to use them. i am gifted primarily in administration (it goes along with earth, i think), followed by mercy (i know... shocker) and perception. kevin told me that it is a very unlikely combination to have mercy and perception, but that God must like me, because if i didn't have mercy, i'd be a very difficult person to be around. thanks kevin. but i gotta say, i'm excited to know about these gifts. i feel like i have super powers.
but seriously, it's great to understand the reasons behind why i feel and act the way i do. it helps me to see myself through His eyes- as His beloved creation. to know i do things on purpose, not just willy-nilly for no good reason, humbles me. He loves me enough to have made me so intricate. ladies and gents, you may not understand all the little things you do naturally, but all those little nuances you think are ridiculous are His fingerprints on you. that's how much He loves you. and you know what the means? it means He is even more elaborate. and i don't know about you, but i'm excited to exhaust the inexhaustible God.
but then again, i'm an earth. i like detail-oriented things.
peace in His immeasurable love.
man, there is so much to write, i don't even know where to begin. every day i'm learning something new. like, i now know how to crochet beenies. i know, i know... i'm a grandma, but it's a really valuable life lesson. i'm kidding, of course. (about the life lesson part. i really do know how to crochet.)
it's interesting to me that each thing we learn overlaps. it doesn't really fit well in my compartmentalized brain. at school, physics goes in its physics box and english in its english box. but here, spiritual warfare is waged everday, so it is a factor in your relationships and requires constant prayer and knowledge of yourself and your foundations in Christ and the scriptures. that's like the thesis statement of the last weeks. honestly, i've never been good at writing papers for school, so the term "thesis statement" always hinders my ability to compile coherent paragraphs... where am i going with this? i guess the bulk of this paper should be about my foundations and what i've learned about myself. truth be told, it seems like we've spent more time in class figuring out ourselves then we have God, but when you think about it, it makes sense for two reasons. first, if i don't know myself, why would i bother to know the God who created me. that may sound selfish, but most young people i know are so wrapped up in themselves because they are on this journey to "find" themselves. but what do they do when they finally come upon who they are? it seems like the most humble thing to do is figure yourself out so that you can finally forget about you and consentrate on God. and i don't mean this whole time we have lost sight of God; He is actively apart of finding ourselves. i'm sorry. maybe this is confusing. let's continue...
second, it is impossible to understand the unfathomable YHWH, so, since we are created in His image, by learning about myself, His mystery becomes discernable to the confines of my human brain. not that my spiritual gifts or personality traits are a reflection of His capacity, but that they are a glimpse of His magnificence and that He is so so much more than what has been created in me. you still with me? good.
"so what is all "knowing yourself" mumbo-jumbo your talking about here?" well, we took a personality test and a spiritual gift inventory, which were frighteningly accurate and shocking, respectively. first was the personality element profile (pep). it divides personailties into four major elements-earth, wind, fire and water. of these, i am an earth, through and through. pretty much, you can just think about the element and know the traits of its owner. i'm accurate, organized, focused, serious, steady, dedicated, slow moving, structured and conscientious. sound right? ain't gonna lie, it's a little difficult in the dynamic of kairos. i'm the only double earth; shane is also an earth, but he's blended with water, so he's more adaptable and easy-going. most everyone else is some degree of a wind, the element completely opposite to me. they're all flexible and talkative and emotion-driven and sometimes, they just bug me. but that's the point behind this-to figure ourselves out so that we can learn the best ways to interact and work with one another.
then there was the spiritual gift inventory. if you look in romans, paul lists several motivational gifts; this is the list the test is based on. what's great is that we didn't just learn what areas we're gifted in, we also learned what it means to have spiritual gifts and why and how to use them. i am gifted primarily in administration (it goes along with earth, i think), followed by mercy (i know... shocker) and perception. kevin told me that it is a very unlikely combination to have mercy and perception, but that God must like me, because if i didn't have mercy, i'd be a very difficult person to be around. thanks kevin. but i gotta say, i'm excited to know about these gifts. i feel like i have super powers.
but seriously, it's great to understand the reasons behind why i feel and act the way i do. it helps me to see myself through His eyes- as His beloved creation. to know i do things on purpose, not just willy-nilly for no good reason, humbles me. He loves me enough to have made me so intricate. ladies and gents, you may not understand all the little things you do naturally, but all those little nuances you think are ridiculous are His fingerprints on you. that's how much He loves you. and you know what the means? it means He is even more elaborate. and i don't know about you, but i'm excited to exhaust the inexhaustible God.
but then again, i'm an earth. i like detail-oriented things.
peace in His immeasurable love.
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