Surrounded by languages I didn't understand, in a setting that's still very new to me, where I don't yet have friends, I stood a bit awkwardly and walked down the hall and back a couple of times, trying to seem like I had something to do or someone to go chat with. Listening to the rhythm of the Africans' speech, I couldn't help but smile. I felt full of joy this morning during this break at work, while the students visited with friends in different classes and I waited for the time to end so we could play alphabet bingo.
While I smiled and wished I could know what they were discussing in Kirundi, with a thankful heart I realized that I've had great joy in my work this week. That on Wednesday night as I drifted off to sleep I was actually excited to get up really early the next day and make the trek to High Point to go teach what is often my most difficult and least favorite class. That I get to spend my days with people who truly appreciate what I have to offer and whose lives I can actually impact. That I am immersed in new cultures and have students who not only want to improve their English, but who are also curious about their classmates' lives and traditions in their countries of origin.
On Wednesday afternoon I was greatly blessed to go spend about an hour at the house of a former student, a 24-year-old Egyptian wife and the mother of 8-month-old and adorable 'Hammed. She cooked me a feast. She blessed me greatly with genuine love and overwhelming hospitality. I want to be a blessing to her in whatever ways I am able.
Relationships. When I feel frustrated or tired of my job and working with people who show up late, or not at all, whose cell phones go off too much, or with whom I can't really communicate too well (or at all), I want to be able to return, to refocus on what matters. Love.
If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am as a sounding gong or a clanging cymbal.
Teaching English is good, it is valuable, it is necessary and desired and appreciated. But teaching English is not the end-all. It is a means to love, in relationships (even though they must be bounded by professionalism, which means they can't get too personal). And this week I count it as one of my biggest blessings to have work which is purposeful for my "clients", fulfilling for me personally, and that provides an outlet for me to learn more about incarnational love and radical approachability.
Also, it was my birthday today (yesterday, by this point), and it was wonderful. I worked, I cooked good food for myself, I read for an hour, and I spent a lot of quality time with friends! (As an added bonus, I went the whole day without using my car, but I did bum a ride from Leah, so my day wasn't 100% car-free.)
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Sunday, May 18, 2008
I have flea bites.
Back to the "new humanity"...
Relationship is integral to ushering in the kingdom of heaven. One-on-one attention, face time, touch. And this both thrills and terrifies me.
I fear contamination. I don't want to get lice. I don't want to get dirty. I want to be cute and clean and comfortable. So God is calling me out of that, away from what I know and like and into the mess -- the mess of slums and brothels and stench and loveless families -- to meet with him.
I like the idea of it, but the reality is distasteful.
And why, for me, is it necessary to go so far and into such technicolor chaos in order to wrestle and learn? For some, having relationships with intellectuals, the Harvard professor-types, is their ministry. That's clean. That's comfortable, and you can even look cute (although after all-night conversations over countless cups of coffee you will eventually smell a bit, look a little rough, and need a shower and some sleep). (please know that I do not think any less of those called to this area. I'm merely lamenting the fact that I don't have a similarly lice-free, dirty diaper-free people group to work with.)
I feel drawn to kids who come up and ask me questions point-blank and who want some attention and who often want to play... and it goes so much deeper than that, in fact much deeper than I can imagine as of yet, but this is an entry-point. I don't feel on-guard with them. We make friends easily. And I love them easily, and I hurt for them and desire good for them. And the scruffy ones on the street in Latin America, the ones who have come up asking for money, the ones who are men and women in the bodies of children because they have seen, heard, felt too much pain and ugliness, the ones who squeeze themselves around me on the bench: for those, I dream restoration! I dream the freedom to play, to trust, to rest in the assurance of love and that a grown-up is going to take care of it! I dream for them what I was blessed enough to have: a childhood.
That they may grow up and offer the same gift to their children, and grandchildren. That through God's grace and my willing hands and heart (alongside many others) he can rebuild families that for generations have been broken, downtrodden, empty of hope. That a light will pierce through the darkness, a light which the darkness cannot comprehend (neither understand nor stamp out). And what is the mode of bringing this light? "The WORD became flesh and dwelt among us." (John 1:14)
Face-to-face. Here I go, both now in Greensboro and next year in Bogotá.
Relationship is integral to ushering in the kingdom of heaven. One-on-one attention, face time, touch. And this both thrills and terrifies me.
I fear contamination. I don't want to get lice. I don't want to get dirty. I want to be cute and clean and comfortable. So God is calling me out of that, away from what I know and like and into the mess -- the mess of slums and brothels and stench and loveless families -- to meet with him.
I like the idea of it, but the reality is distasteful.
And why, for me, is it necessary to go so far and into such technicolor chaos in order to wrestle and learn? For some, having relationships with intellectuals, the Harvard professor-types, is their ministry. That's clean. That's comfortable, and you can even look cute (although after all-night conversations over countless cups of coffee you will eventually smell a bit, look a little rough, and need a shower and some sleep). (please know that I do not think any less of those called to this area. I'm merely lamenting the fact that I don't have a similarly lice-free, dirty diaper-free people group to work with.)
I feel drawn to kids who come up and ask me questions point-blank and who want some attention and who often want to play... and it goes so much deeper than that, in fact much deeper than I can imagine as of yet, but this is an entry-point. I don't feel on-guard with them. We make friends easily. And I love them easily, and I hurt for them and desire good for them. And the scruffy ones on the street in Latin America, the ones who have come up asking for money, the ones who are men and women in the bodies of children because they have seen, heard, felt too much pain and ugliness, the ones who squeeze themselves around me on the bench: for those, I dream restoration! I dream the freedom to play, to trust, to rest in the assurance of love and that a grown-up is going to take care of it! I dream for them what I was blessed enough to have: a childhood.
That they may grow up and offer the same gift to their children, and grandchildren. That through God's grace and my willing hands and heart (alongside many others) he can rebuild families that for generations have been broken, downtrodden, empty of hope. That a light will pierce through the darkness, a light which the darkness cannot comprehend (neither understand nor stamp out). And what is the mode of bringing this light? "The WORD became flesh and dwelt among us." (John 1:14)
Face-to-face. Here I go, both now in Greensboro and next year in Bogotá.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
quick update
This post won't meet up to the "literary standard" I try to set for myself, but I feel the need to post something since I haven't in so long!
I got back to Greensboro today after 8 days in Bogotá, Colombia. I'll be moving there in February 2009, Lord willing (i.e. if my fund raising and visa acquisition go well between now and then). I stayed there to meet the staff and see some of the program sites of the organization, Formando Vidas. It was good and God faithfully provided for me to go, begin to make friends, and meet with Him.
I hope to update with more details and reflection soon. If you want to be on my email/prayer/support list, please let me know.
I got back to Greensboro today after 8 days in Bogotá, Colombia. I'll be moving there in February 2009, Lord willing (i.e. if my fund raising and visa acquisition go well between now and then). I stayed there to meet the staff and see some of the program sites of the organization, Formando Vidas. It was good and God faithfully provided for me to go, begin to make friends, and meet with Him.
I hope to update with more details and reflection soon. If you want to be on my email/prayer/support list, please let me know.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
The cheerful giver
When Jacob high-tailed it from his parents' house, running from his murderous brother to his uncle's land, he spent a night outside on the ground, with a rock for his pillow. And there the LORD spoke to him, promising His faithfulness and blessings to Jacob and to all people through him.
The next morning, after making the pillow-rock a monument to the LORD, Jacob made a commitment of faithfulness, too. The difference? Jacob's was conditional. "IF you will protect me and bring me back here safely, like you promised, THEN you will be my God, and I will trust you and give you ten percent of everything you give me." (Genesis 28:20-22, paraphrased)
When I remember His faithfulness to me in the past and present and trust His promises for the future, I can set aside my conditions. Being grateful opens up a door to joy.
On Tuesday, I read this in Robert Lupton's book: "To be a cheerful giver, one must be a free giver -- free from coercion and manipulation, free from emotional hooks that corner and obligate." After an insanely busy week, I spent a wonderful hour in the park resting and praying today. And Jacob's promise to "tithe" on condition, out of obligation or repayment for God's protection and blessings stood out to me. The LORD did not pursue Jacob for any merit of his own, nor did He promise his blessings contingent on Jacob's response or responsibility. And God decided to bless the whole world through Jacob.
I trust God to provide for my financial needs for Colombia, which frees me up to give more right now rather than saving every extra penny!
The next morning, after making the pillow-rock a monument to the LORD, Jacob made a commitment of faithfulness, too. The difference? Jacob's was conditional. "IF you will protect me and bring me back here safely, like you promised, THEN you will be my God, and I will trust you and give you ten percent of everything you give me." (Genesis 28:20-22, paraphrased)
When I remember His faithfulness to me in the past and present and trust His promises for the future, I can set aside my conditions. Being grateful opens up a door to joy.
On Tuesday, I read this in Robert Lupton's book: "To be a cheerful giver, one must be a free giver -- free from coercion and manipulation, free from emotional hooks that corner and obligate." After an insanely busy week, I spent a wonderful hour in the park resting and praying today. And Jacob's promise to "tithe" on condition, out of obligation or repayment for God's protection and blessings stood out to me. The LORD did not pursue Jacob for any merit of his own, nor did He promise his blessings contingent on Jacob's response or responsibility. And God decided to bless the whole world through Jacob.
I trust God to provide for my financial needs for Colombia, which frees me up to give more right now rather than saving every extra penny!
Friday, April 18, 2008
the Glory
"Sometimes a kind of glory lights up the mind of a man. It happens to nearly everyone. ... It is a feeling in the stomach, a delight of the nerves, of the forearms. The skin tastes the air, and every deep-drawn breath is sweet. ... it flashes in the brain and the whole world glows outside your eyes. A man may have lived all of his life in the gray, and the land and trees of him dark and somber. The events, even the important ones, may have trooped by faceless and pale. And then -- the glory -- so that a cricket song sweetens his ears, the smell of the earth rises chanting to his nose, and dappling light under a tree blesses his eyes. Then a man pours outward, a torrent of him, and yet he is not diminished. ... It is a lonely thing but it relates us to the world. It is the mother of all creativeness, and it sets each man separate from all other men."
-John Steinbeck, East of Eden
one.
Have you experienced those moments of glory? Moments of substance? They are always the simplest things... once it was a crow about to land on the ground, and as I drove past I saw the summer sunlight on the jet feathers of his crooked wing.
That glory, that substance, that life-fullness comes when least expected, and it is a gift. Steinbeck relates it to our creativity, and points out that this glory, like creative acts, can only happen alone. Yet (his narrator says) our systems -- political, religious, ideological -- generally move us away from being individuals and toward being part of the herd, thereby smothering the glory, squelching humanity.
And those patterns can become ingrained, so that I choose busy-ness over rest, or I seek companionship to avoid solitude, although both are valuable and necessary.
two.
The moments of life can troop by, faceless. But the stars can also sing! And the earth chants, and the light blesses, and the skin tastes the air! Am I more fully human, more connected with myself, the physical and the spiritual halves more integrated, in those moments? Is that fleeting glory a foretaste of eternity?
And it is not of myself. I am filled up by a force outside of myself that interacts with me, and I suddenly gush! An outpouring of life, of love. I loved that crow, and the sunshine, and the way they met and entered my eye and my soul.
It is a pouring-out that does not take away from. Like the image of the burning bush that was not consumed. I want to be a burning bush more often.
three.
Can the overflow of the heart continue even past the moment of the glory? Those moments of substance are solitary affairs, but I want their effects to spill over to interactions. My self-integration is important, but so are my relationships.
This "lonely thing" that separates us, sets us apart from one another, is beautiful because being ourselves and seeing each other in truth and glory breaks the patterns, shatters the systems, and births the new humanity. Note that all of those verbs involve pain...
I have been filled and am ready to let it keep pouring out! To take my humanity -- the ability and calling to create -- and be used in turning the gray glorious.
"And this I believe: that the free, exploring mind of the individual human is the most valuable thing in the world. ... and I will fight... to preserve the one thing that separates us from the uncreative beasts. If the glory can be killed, we are lost."
-John Steinbeck, East of Eden
one.
Have you experienced those moments of glory? Moments of substance? They are always the simplest things... once it was a crow about to land on the ground, and as I drove past I saw the summer sunlight on the jet feathers of his crooked wing.
That glory, that substance, that life-fullness comes when least expected, and it is a gift. Steinbeck relates it to our creativity, and points out that this glory, like creative acts, can only happen alone. Yet (his narrator says) our systems -- political, religious, ideological -- generally move us away from being individuals and toward being part of the herd, thereby smothering the glory, squelching humanity.
And those patterns can become ingrained, so that I choose busy-ness over rest, or I seek companionship to avoid solitude, although both are valuable and necessary.
two.
The moments of life can troop by, faceless. But the stars can also sing! And the earth chants, and the light blesses, and the skin tastes the air! Am I more fully human, more connected with myself, the physical and the spiritual halves more integrated, in those moments? Is that fleeting glory a foretaste of eternity?
And it is not of myself. I am filled up by a force outside of myself that interacts with me, and I suddenly gush! An outpouring of life, of love. I loved that crow, and the sunshine, and the way they met and entered my eye and my soul.
It is a pouring-out that does not take away from. Like the image of the burning bush that was not consumed. I want to be a burning bush more often.
three.
Can the overflow of the heart continue even past the moment of the glory? Those moments of substance are solitary affairs, but I want their effects to spill over to interactions. My self-integration is important, but so are my relationships.
This "lonely thing" that separates us, sets us apart from one another, is beautiful because being ourselves and seeing each other in truth and glory breaks the patterns, shatters the systems, and births the new humanity. Note that all of those verbs involve pain...
I have been filled and am ready to let it keep pouring out! To take my humanity -- the ability and calling to create -- and be used in turning the gray glorious.
"And this I believe: that the free, exploring mind of the individual human is the most valuable thing in the world. ... and I will fight... to preserve the one thing that separates us from the uncreative beasts. If the glory can be killed, we are lost."
Sunday, April 6, 2008
Good news...
..but not what you might think. (aka, something about Colombia)
However, I want to take time to celebrate the little things, even while I await what seems to be "bigger" news. This summer semester at GTCC I'm getting more hours! That means that now I'll be working a steady 24.75 hours a week there (this semester I've had 22), which is just shy of the 25-hour-a-week limit for part-time employees!
Since starting to teach ESOL there last May, I have been blessed with more classes and given options of what classes I want to teach. I have been praised for my work and have formed friendships with students. I hope that the impact I've had will have a ripple effect and that my little drips and drops of help will aid in the coming of the kingdom of God.
August will be here before I know it, and that is the cut-off point of my vision and knowledge of where I'll be and what I'll be doing. Tonight I am free from worry-filled question marks at that sidewalk ending-point. Tonight I am at peace, and excited to see all that happens before then!
However, I want to take time to celebrate the little things, even while I await what seems to be "bigger" news. This summer semester at GTCC I'm getting more hours! That means that now I'll be working a steady 24.75 hours a week there (this semester I've had 22), which is just shy of the 25-hour-a-week limit for part-time employees!
Since starting to teach ESOL there last May, I have been blessed with more classes and given options of what classes I want to teach. I have been praised for my work and have formed friendships with students. I hope that the impact I've had will have a ripple effect and that my little drips and drops of help will aid in the coming of the kingdom of God.
August will be here before I know it, and that is the cut-off point of my vision and knowledge of where I'll be and what I'll be doing. Tonight I am free from worry-filled question marks at that sidewalk ending-point. Tonight I am at peace, and excited to see all that happens before then!
Saturday, April 5, 2008
Update: no news. This is life.
It is a rainy April Saturday, after a rainy April week, and I am home alone with very few plans for the day.
Solitude. Silence. Rest.
The day is full of possibilities! But isn't every day? I want to be more aware of that, and as often as I remember to, I ask God to show me how I can be a part of what he's already doing each day. To join in beside the work of others and to find common interests. To let myself be used (somehow) for the glory of the Lord.
"What's going on with Colombia?" you ask.
For now, I'm not sure. To say nothing would be an answer from my perspective. Poor communication could be another response. I'm waiting, again is probably all I really can say. I'm sure lots of things are happening there, but the 2, 197 miles between us easily block that from my view. Of course, I have a lot going on here, and happily so. I would like to know a few basic details about my Colombia move, but probably once I do it will be more difficult for me to stay focused on and plugged into my life in Greensboro, so maybe it's yet another blessing disguised as yet another exercise in patience and trust.
Solitude. Silence. Rest.
The day is full of possibilities! But isn't every day? I want to be more aware of that, and as often as I remember to, I ask God to show me how I can be a part of what he's already doing each day. To join in beside the work of others and to find common interests. To let myself be used (somehow) for the glory of the Lord.
"What's going on with Colombia?" you ask.
For now, I'm not sure. To say nothing would be an answer from my perspective. Poor communication could be another response. I'm waiting, again is probably all I really can say. I'm sure lots of things are happening there, but the 2, 197 miles between us easily block that from my view. Of course, I have a lot going on here, and happily so. I would like to know a few basic details about my Colombia move, but probably once I do it will be more difficult for me to stay focused on and plugged into my life in Greensboro, so maybe it's yet another blessing disguised as yet another exercise in patience and trust.
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