The weather was perfect today. I drove to my grandparents' house using the long way, just enjoying the warm sun shining through my open windows, listening to the right CD, going goodness-only-knows-per-hour, observing the cherry trees as they steal the spotlight from the Bradford pears. I went down my favorite road, the one that has that steep hill and if you go down it fast enough, you get that anti-gravity feeling in the pit of your stomach, like on roller coasters.
I used to love driving. It was my escape, a time where I could think without interruption or sing without self-consciousness. Now, thanks to my aversion to punctuality, the time I spend driving is tense and distracted: a means to an end.
But today, driving was driving again. And I needed the head-clearing.
I haven't understood certain emotions, feelings, thoughts I've had lately. As I blazed through the familiar paths in my car, I began to get it.
I realized that I will be replaced. I will head off to college, and new people (or things) will come up where I used to be. I will not be my friends' ears, nor will I be their ride. I will not be the one to play the flute solo next year in band. I will not plan See You At the Pole 2007. The hard part, though, is that even though I will not be there, everything will continue. Without me.
And so, I am jealous, of the friends my friends will make in their freshman classes, of the girl who is second chair flute right now, of the current juniors who will plan Homecoming 08. But jealousy is not becoming on a young lady, nor is it something I am used to.
65 days until graduation... where's the brake pedal?
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Flat Tire
There was a nail stuck in my tire today. It was wedged pretty deep in the tread. The tire is intact and will be saved with a little patching. It had leaked badly, though, gauging less than 10 on the pressure reader. I was driving around for a while on the wall of the tire, because it had so little air.
The thing is, I had no idea. I would have kept on driving. Thankfully, a couple at my school noticed. When they told me my tire was low and that I needed to get some air, I must have given them the most hopeless, distraught look, because they quickly took me to the Citgo and taught me how to fill up my tires with 75 cent air, which they helped pay for because I was out of quarters.
Never in my life have I felt so helpless. I didn't even know how to fill up my tires, much less notice that the one was so low.
I kept thinking, If Dad were here, he could help me. He would've taught me. He wouldn't have let me get my license without knowing this stuff.
And the more I thought that, the more overwhelmed I became at the gaping hole in my life that he has left. Things I will never be taught unless someone else comes along and teaches them to me. Things I will never do that many people do on a daily basis. A man that I will never know past a vague impression, yet whom I still fully love. It seems I am missing out, to the point that I am sorrowfully feeling the deep effects of my loss, realizing its emotional as well as physical consequences.
Tomorrow night, there will be yet another show he will miss. In a few months, he will not rejoice with me over my college decision. Come May, he will not attend my high school graduation. In the fall, he will not load up his car with my pathetic pile of worldly goods and deliver it and me to the aforementioned college. He will not want to beat up every male who shows an interest in me. He will not meet his son-in-law or his grand kids. He will not walk me down the aisle or sit in the hospital waiting room, bursting with pride while going crazy with worry.
And I am sad.
The thing is, I had no idea. I would have kept on driving. Thankfully, a couple at my school noticed. When they told me my tire was low and that I needed to get some air, I must have given them the most hopeless, distraught look, because they quickly took me to the Citgo and taught me how to fill up my tires with 75 cent air, which they helped pay for because I was out of quarters.
Never in my life have I felt so helpless. I didn't even know how to fill up my tires, much less notice that the one was so low.
I kept thinking, If Dad were here, he could help me. He would've taught me. He wouldn't have let me get my license without knowing this stuff.
And the more I thought that, the more overwhelmed I became at the gaping hole in my life that he has left. Things I will never be taught unless someone else comes along and teaches them to me. Things I will never do that many people do on a daily basis. A man that I will never know past a vague impression, yet whom I still fully love. It seems I am missing out, to the point that I am sorrowfully feeling the deep effects of my loss, realizing its emotional as well as physical consequences.
Tomorrow night, there will be yet another show he will miss. In a few months, he will not rejoice with me over my college decision. Come May, he will not attend my high school graduation. In the fall, he will not load up his car with my pathetic pile of worldly goods and deliver it and me to the aforementioned college. He will not want to beat up every male who shows an interest in me. He will not meet his son-in-law or his grand kids. He will not walk me down the aisle or sit in the hospital waiting room, bursting with pride while going crazy with worry.
And I am sad.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Excerpts From a Journal
3/6/07
This journal is a gift from a friend. I had a feeling she would give me one for this trip, so I neglected to bring my own. Poor other journal. At home, missing the "adventure of a lifetime." I haven't written in it for a while. Regardless of my (un)faithfullness in recording what's gone on in my life, God has been working. It has been an absolute joy, absolute struggle, absolute pain, absolute healing. God has decided to teach me about love: His love for me, my love for Him, others' love for me, my love for them.
I have learned that love is selfless. "Love" acted out only in the benefit of self is not love - it is lust, infatuation, greed, or just self-centeredness. Love is putting the needs and even wants of others before your own. It is wanting to invest time in another person, if only to see them become a better person. Love means giving up your cave time because someone needs your ears. Love means speaking the truth, even when it can be taken the wrong way. Love is receiving the truth, even when you want to take it in the wrong way. Love is not running away. Love is chasing. Love isn't based on emotions or feelings or even the fluttery heart thing. It's based on the knowledge of who a person is. Love them for them. Sometimes, God tells us to love someone. Sometimes, it comes naturally. Sometimes, it's both. Love is God's greatest command - first Him, then others. Nothing can compare to it. It is stronger than death (on a cross even), than the grave, than the horrible, sinful, depraved people that we are. Love is the fulfillment of the law. Act in love, and you obey all of the commandments. So that is what I mean when I tell someone I love them. And that is why I do not say it flippantly or to everyone.
I'm beginning to grasp God's love. Barely. He's been pouring it out to me for so long, teaching me ever so gently, ever so slowly that He loves me. Other people love me. They, too, have been patient with my confusion and unbelief. But I'm starting to get it.
And now, God is asking for a return on his deposit. Here I am with my senior class. I'm here for a purpose. I'm going to love these people, or at least act in love toward them because of my love for Christ.
So far, we haven't done much. We're at a seminary: cold showers, but awesome food. I'm just sitting in the sun, feeding the bugs, and avoiding soaring sporting equipment.
Yesterday, after we arrived, had dinner, and got settled, we had an amazing time of worship. God laid it on my heart to share about my college struggles, along with Isaiah 40 (He is God, I am not). The thing isn't really what college I go to, but that I follow God where ever He leads me. That works for now, so I'll stop worrying about it.
3/7/07
Yesterday, after our free morning to hang out, we went to a high school. We played / sang a few songs. Lawler wanted us to sit amongst the kids, which was tough for me. Turns out I'm pretty shy. The kids weren't really into the singing or the preaching. But they liked the soccer game.
Then we went to the inner city of San Jose to pass out tracts. Once again, turns out I'm very shy. I hated it. I felt so out of my element, so imposing, asking people to take a piece of pape from a complete stranger concerning something so personal as one's relationship with God. But, "How can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them?"
I guess I'm just not good at selling the gospel. I know what it entails: the heartache, the pain, the process of being emptied and refined. But I also know the joy, the healing, the process of being filled. When it comes to telling others about God, I feel dishonest only hitting the high points.
This morning, we woke up extremely early and drove across the country. We got souveniers and pottery. Aby used the pottery in his lesson tonight - more "I'm God, you're not: I'm the potter, you're the clay" stuff. I need to keep thinking that. Then we went to a big open field and sang for some little school kids. Onto another small town with another amazing time of worship witht he local kids. We had them all dancing to "Marvelous Light." It was awesome.
3/8/07
Well, we've spent the day doing nothing. Right now, I'm looking out at the resort's cove of the Pacific Ocean, sitting on the towel I had to rent from them, surrounded by grass, joined by Jake and Arthur. The sun is beautiful, reflecting off the water around the pier. The flags are standing stiff gaurd on the pier, not of their own volition - the wind has decided their upright position. The humid force is also wafting the birds gently in the air as they cry out to each other.
Seems I'm in a pensive mood. Today has been a perfect day for relaxation, socializing, and letting go. Last night's words come back to me, and I pray they will never leave. Mr. Campbell spoke about unity and how it is bound by love. Why must I be constantly faced with the thing I am so bad at? I remember, in the summer, God was preparing me for this lesson. He had me speak at the student government retreat about love and humility and how it all builds unity.
Maybe I've been a loner for too long. Perhaps this is God's way of telling me to be better unified with His people. So much has happened since that retreat, so many tests that have strengthened my ability to love as well as my understanding of it. I want to be better at it, but it's such a big task. I'm discouraged.
But He remembers that I am dust...
Clay. It's just dust. But with a little water, the right pair of hands, and the pottery wheel, it can become more than dust - beautifully shaped and molded.
I am the clay. He is the potter. He knows what He is doing. He's carefully molding me into the woman he wants me to be. I'm by no means a finished product,. I've been fried, turned, twisted. I'm getting there.
And so, my frustration will last. But I pray to see progress everyday. And I think I am. It's just a process of getting over me - not being so self absorbed and self centered. It's not about my desires, my shyness, my past pain. It's about the absolute command to love the Lord my God with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength and to love my neighbor as myself.
3/9/07
I am more exhausted now than I have ever been in my life. I'm laying in bed, eating dark chocolate M&M's (a gift which flooded me with happiness). I am quickly realizing the detrimental effects of an open bag of M&M's on someone trying to write in a journal.
Today, we went white water rafting down one of the world's best rafting rivers. We floated and paddled through the rain forest for 5.5 hours. I never got tired of looking up and seeing the tall, dense walls of trees surrounding us. Our foursome paddled our arms out. It was intense and tiring but so fun! I'd do it again in a heartbeat. We even had lunch right out on a sandbar. They just flipped over a couple rafts and started laying out fruit and stuff to make sandwhiched with. It was like a picnic. In the rain forest. Never to be forgotten.
My selfishness contiues. I am constantly sickened by my instinctive desire to please myself before others. I know this would happen - a trip like this heightens flaws. Why does it bother me so much to simply share my pringles, or to talk to the loners of the group instead ob the friends I'm comfortable with? Praise be to the One who know my heart's design completely, yet still loves its owner.
Opening night for the play was tonight. Is it wrong that I still feel disappointed about missing the first two shows to be here? The Potter wants me in Costa Rica, though. People paid money for me to be here. They're praying for me. I'm supposed to be here, not at home.
What are you up to, God? This clay has blown it the first four days she's been here. Sure you haven't made a mistake? She's snapped at people, hastn't offered to share with anyone, missed an opportunity to witness, sar by while other people made fun of her friends, fallen asleep during prayer, complained, been introverted, neglected some of your servants, didn't help wash the dishes, didn't thank the bus driver, fumed because of sparse leg room...
Are You sure?
3/10/07
We're pretty tired. I know this because Joy (my roommate) has been laying on the bed, pencil poised ove the pages in her journal, motionless for about 20 minutes. Yeah, it was a tiring day.
We did a lot of ministry work today. We started out early and headed to Aby's church. It's small, but beautiful. Gladys made breakfast (rice, beans, and eggs - five days in a row!). Then we went to a large enclosed gym. The children of the village came and we played witht hem after presenting the gospel. It was amazing, definitely a highlight of the trip. They were precious, all running around with baloon hats Louis and Lizzie had sculpted for them. At one point, we had a big game of keep away going. Tip's hat was the ball. Gringos v. kids - and they played dirty! I had the hat, and they wrestled me to the ground somehow. A little boy grabbed part of the hat, and I hung on to the other. All the kids were tickling me ruthlessly while I laughed and yelled, "No tickle!" and to the kid with the hat, "Damelo! Damelo!" (Give me it!). It was awesome. I can assure you: I didn't think about college once. Turns out, there ARE more important things to consider and ponder.
After the kids left, we went to lunch and headed back to the gym to minister to the teenager with music, testimonies, and lots of soccer. I played for a bit. I haven't been feeling well today, so I'm glad I only participated for about 10 minutes. I was a defender, whatever that means.
We finished tonight with a very Spirit-filled worship / devotion time. Mrs. Carr came over and prayed for me. It was funny. She knew all the doubts I had about myself and my future. She addressed them all, mentioning my passion for God and how it will always guide me and lead me wherever God wants me to be. She prayed for my peace. I cried. Those words will echo into eternity. I told her all the stuff about how inadequate I feel and all the failures I've presented God with lately. She didn't gasp and take back her prayer. She just calmly said that Christ's sacrifice would have been purposeless if I were perfect.
The desire and passion to do what is right.
The capacity and tendency to do what is wrong.
It's so hard sometimes. But He understands and He still died for me. That's why He died. I think my sin is here to humble me, to perpetuate my reliance on God and His strength in sanctification.
Today, I gave away M&M's. The dark chocolate ones. Without regreting or loathing it. That, journal, is the work of God.
It's like Mrs. Carr said, though. It's a process. I think that's at the core of my frustration: I want glorification now. I want to be complete in God.
But not yet. The clay must be shaped, molded, wet down, fried before it can be glazed over and decorated.
3/11/07
Last day. How bizarre. I was just getting used to tico time.
We went to church this morning. The service was a mix of Spanish and English. I really enjoyed it.
Then, after church, the sweetest thing happened. A little boy named Stuart, full of love and energy, came up to me and presented me with a necklace. "Por me?" I said. He nodded yes. "Porque?" (Why?) I wanted to know, completely confused. I had done nothing to earn this child's esteem. All he responded with was a big hug, and he walked away.
Before lunch, a few of us went down to the store in Guacimo. Several of us got coke in a bottle... apparently, they keep the bottle to redeem later, so they poured our drinks into plastic sandwich bags, stuck a straw in it, and handed it to us. So there we were, walking down a Costa Rican gravel road, dinking coke in bag.
We left for San Jose, and stayed at nice hotel where I reunited with Casa number 7, my beloved roommates from the beginning of the week. We had some good girl time.
After dinner, we had an amazing service. Mr. Campbell prayed for us, blessing us. We sang and had communion.
Stuart really brought it all home for me. All this stuggle I've had over selfishness, all my frustration over my lack of humility, it was needed to teach me what it means to follow Christ. It's not about me. It's about God. I am not the lead character in my novel. God is. He's the author, too. Stuart showed me what unconditional, selfless love is. He gave me the necklace just because. How hard, then, is it for me to give my time, my love, my patience. I hope and pray I will not soon forget this lesson. Stuart has already given me a physical reminder.
3/12/07
We're on the plane, heading home. I am granted a few hours to reflect on and add to this journey before all the craziness of life back home begins again.
I have seen absolute wonders of God's creation. Mountains, forests, oceans, rivers, waterfalls, clouds, sunsets, moonrises, stars. God's creation will never cease to hold me in awe. I can't help but praise Him for the world He has given us to live in, even if it is fallen. I see the Creator's hand in his earth, and I feel His pleasure in my delight.
God is a God of love: absolute, unconditional, unrepelable love. A person enters this world with a sinful nature, unable to understand love. All they know is selfishness, and they act accordingly. God intercepts this path of depravity and begins to teach us right from wrong. We can no longer live as we used to. We are being taught what the truth is, what it means to love, what it means to have life and have it to the full.
I had skewed views of life, love, and myself: life is lived how I desire, I love only for reciprocation, and I am worthless because I live unfulfilled and I love unreturned.
It is a process. God must get rid of these old views and in their place provide the truth: that I live for God, I love because He loves me, that a life lived for Him is full of purpose, love given in Him, to Him, and from Him is good, and that He has given me worth, redeemed me.
Romans 12:1-3
This journal is a gift from a friend. I had a feeling she would give me one for this trip, so I neglected to bring my own. Poor other journal. At home, missing the "adventure of a lifetime." I haven't written in it for a while. Regardless of my (un)faithfullness in recording what's gone on in my life, God has been working. It has been an absolute joy, absolute struggle, absolute pain, absolute healing. God has decided to teach me about love: His love for me, my love for Him, others' love for me, my love for them.
I have learned that love is selfless. "Love" acted out only in the benefit of self is not love - it is lust, infatuation, greed, or just self-centeredness. Love is putting the needs and even wants of others before your own. It is wanting to invest time in another person, if only to see them become a better person. Love means giving up your cave time because someone needs your ears. Love means speaking the truth, even when it can be taken the wrong way. Love is receiving the truth, even when you want to take it in the wrong way. Love is not running away. Love is chasing. Love isn't based on emotions or feelings or even the fluttery heart thing. It's based on the knowledge of who a person is. Love them for them. Sometimes, God tells us to love someone. Sometimes, it comes naturally. Sometimes, it's both. Love is God's greatest command - first Him, then others. Nothing can compare to it. It is stronger than death (on a cross even), than the grave, than the horrible, sinful, depraved people that we are. Love is the fulfillment of the law. Act in love, and you obey all of the commandments. So that is what I mean when I tell someone I love them. And that is why I do not say it flippantly or to everyone.
I'm beginning to grasp God's love. Barely. He's been pouring it out to me for so long, teaching me ever so gently, ever so slowly that He loves me. Other people love me. They, too, have been patient with my confusion and unbelief. But I'm starting to get it.
And now, God is asking for a return on his deposit. Here I am with my senior class. I'm here for a purpose. I'm going to love these people, or at least act in love toward them because of my love for Christ.
So far, we haven't done much. We're at a seminary: cold showers, but awesome food. I'm just sitting in the sun, feeding the bugs, and avoiding soaring sporting equipment.
Yesterday, after we arrived, had dinner, and got settled, we had an amazing time of worship. God laid it on my heart to share about my college struggles, along with Isaiah 40 (He is God, I am not). The thing isn't really what college I go to, but that I follow God where ever He leads me. That works for now, so I'll stop worrying about it.
3/7/07
Yesterday, after our free morning to hang out, we went to a high school. We played / sang a few songs. Lawler wanted us to sit amongst the kids, which was tough for me. Turns out I'm pretty shy. The kids weren't really into the singing or the preaching. But they liked the soccer game.
Then we went to the inner city of San Jose to pass out tracts. Once again, turns out I'm very shy. I hated it. I felt so out of my element, so imposing, asking people to take a piece of pape from a complete stranger concerning something so personal as one's relationship with God. But, "How can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them?"
I guess I'm just not good at selling the gospel. I know what it entails: the heartache, the pain, the process of being emptied and refined. But I also know the joy, the healing, the process of being filled. When it comes to telling others about God, I feel dishonest only hitting the high points.
This morning, we woke up extremely early and drove across the country. We got souveniers and pottery. Aby used the pottery in his lesson tonight - more "I'm God, you're not: I'm the potter, you're the clay" stuff. I need to keep thinking that. Then we went to a big open field and sang for some little school kids. Onto another small town with another amazing time of worship witht he local kids. We had them all dancing to "Marvelous Light." It was awesome.
3/8/07
Well, we've spent the day doing nothing. Right now, I'm looking out at the resort's cove of the Pacific Ocean, sitting on the towel I had to rent from them, surrounded by grass, joined by Jake and Arthur. The sun is beautiful, reflecting off the water around the pier. The flags are standing stiff gaurd on the pier, not of their own volition - the wind has decided their upright position. The humid force is also wafting the birds gently in the air as they cry out to each other.
Seems I'm in a pensive mood. Today has been a perfect day for relaxation, socializing, and letting go. Last night's words come back to me, and I pray they will never leave. Mr. Campbell spoke about unity and how it is bound by love. Why must I be constantly faced with the thing I am so bad at? I remember, in the summer, God was preparing me for this lesson. He had me speak at the student government retreat about love and humility and how it all builds unity.
Maybe I've been a loner for too long. Perhaps this is God's way of telling me to be better unified with His people. So much has happened since that retreat, so many tests that have strengthened my ability to love as well as my understanding of it. I want to be better at it, but it's such a big task. I'm discouraged.
But He remembers that I am dust...
Clay. It's just dust. But with a little water, the right pair of hands, and the pottery wheel, it can become more than dust - beautifully shaped and molded.
I am the clay. He is the potter. He knows what He is doing. He's carefully molding me into the woman he wants me to be. I'm by no means a finished product,. I've been fried, turned, twisted. I'm getting there.
And so, my frustration will last. But I pray to see progress everyday. And I think I am. It's just a process of getting over me - not being so self absorbed and self centered. It's not about my desires, my shyness, my past pain. It's about the absolute command to love the Lord my God with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength and to love my neighbor as myself.
3/9/07
I am more exhausted now than I have ever been in my life. I'm laying in bed, eating dark chocolate M&M's (a gift which flooded me with happiness). I am quickly realizing the detrimental effects of an open bag of M&M's on someone trying to write in a journal.
Today, we went white water rafting down one of the world's best rafting rivers. We floated and paddled through the rain forest for 5.5 hours. I never got tired of looking up and seeing the tall, dense walls of trees surrounding us. Our foursome paddled our arms out. It was intense and tiring but so fun! I'd do it again in a heartbeat. We even had lunch right out on a sandbar. They just flipped over a couple rafts and started laying out fruit and stuff to make sandwhiched with. It was like a picnic. In the rain forest. Never to be forgotten.
My selfishness contiues. I am constantly sickened by my instinctive desire to please myself before others. I know this would happen - a trip like this heightens flaws. Why does it bother me so much to simply share my pringles, or to talk to the loners of the group instead ob the friends I'm comfortable with? Praise be to the One who know my heart's design completely, yet still loves its owner.
Opening night for the play was tonight. Is it wrong that I still feel disappointed about missing the first two shows to be here? The Potter wants me in Costa Rica, though. People paid money for me to be here. They're praying for me. I'm supposed to be here, not at home.
What are you up to, God? This clay has blown it the first four days she's been here. Sure you haven't made a mistake? She's snapped at people, hastn't offered to share with anyone, missed an opportunity to witness, sar by while other people made fun of her friends, fallen asleep during prayer, complained, been introverted, neglected some of your servants, didn't help wash the dishes, didn't thank the bus driver, fumed because of sparse leg room...
Are You sure?
3/10/07
We're pretty tired. I know this because Joy (my roommate) has been laying on the bed, pencil poised ove the pages in her journal, motionless for about 20 minutes. Yeah, it was a tiring day.
We did a lot of ministry work today. We started out early and headed to Aby's church. It's small, but beautiful. Gladys made breakfast (rice, beans, and eggs - five days in a row!). Then we went to a large enclosed gym. The children of the village came and we played witht hem after presenting the gospel. It was amazing, definitely a highlight of the trip. They were precious, all running around with baloon hats Louis and Lizzie had sculpted for them. At one point, we had a big game of keep away going. Tip's hat was the ball. Gringos v. kids - and they played dirty! I had the hat, and they wrestled me to the ground somehow. A little boy grabbed part of the hat, and I hung on to the other. All the kids were tickling me ruthlessly while I laughed and yelled, "No tickle!" and to the kid with the hat, "Damelo! Damelo!" (Give me it!). It was awesome. I can assure you: I didn't think about college once. Turns out, there ARE more important things to consider and ponder.
After the kids left, we went to lunch and headed back to the gym to minister to the teenager with music, testimonies, and lots of soccer. I played for a bit. I haven't been feeling well today, so I'm glad I only participated for about 10 minutes. I was a defender, whatever that means.
We finished tonight with a very Spirit-filled worship / devotion time. Mrs. Carr came over and prayed for me. It was funny. She knew all the doubts I had about myself and my future. She addressed them all, mentioning my passion for God and how it will always guide me and lead me wherever God wants me to be. She prayed for my peace. I cried. Those words will echo into eternity. I told her all the stuff about how inadequate I feel and all the failures I've presented God with lately. She didn't gasp and take back her prayer. She just calmly said that Christ's sacrifice would have been purposeless if I were perfect.
The desire and passion to do what is right.
The capacity and tendency to do what is wrong.
It's so hard sometimes. But He understands and He still died for me. That's why He died. I think my sin is here to humble me, to perpetuate my reliance on God and His strength in sanctification.
Today, I gave away M&M's. The dark chocolate ones. Without regreting or loathing it. That, journal, is the work of God.
It's like Mrs. Carr said, though. It's a process. I think that's at the core of my frustration: I want glorification now. I want to be complete in God.
But not yet. The clay must be shaped, molded, wet down, fried before it can be glazed over and decorated.
3/11/07
Last day. How bizarre. I was just getting used to tico time.
We went to church this morning. The service was a mix of Spanish and English. I really enjoyed it.
Then, after church, the sweetest thing happened. A little boy named Stuart, full of love and energy, came up to me and presented me with a necklace. "Por me?" I said. He nodded yes. "Porque?" (Why?) I wanted to know, completely confused. I had done nothing to earn this child's esteem. All he responded with was a big hug, and he walked away.
Before lunch, a few of us went down to the store in Guacimo. Several of us got coke in a bottle... apparently, they keep the bottle to redeem later, so they poured our drinks into plastic sandwich bags, stuck a straw in it, and handed it to us. So there we were, walking down a Costa Rican gravel road, dinking coke in bag.
We left for San Jose, and stayed at nice hotel where I reunited with Casa number 7, my beloved roommates from the beginning of the week. We had some good girl time.
After dinner, we had an amazing service. Mr. Campbell prayed for us, blessing us. We sang and had communion.
Stuart really brought it all home for me. All this stuggle I've had over selfishness, all my frustration over my lack of humility, it was needed to teach me what it means to follow Christ. It's not about me. It's about God. I am not the lead character in my novel. God is. He's the author, too. Stuart showed me what unconditional, selfless love is. He gave me the necklace just because. How hard, then, is it for me to give my time, my love, my patience. I hope and pray I will not soon forget this lesson. Stuart has already given me a physical reminder.
3/12/07
We're on the plane, heading home. I am granted a few hours to reflect on and add to this journey before all the craziness of life back home begins again.
I have seen absolute wonders of God's creation. Mountains, forests, oceans, rivers, waterfalls, clouds, sunsets, moonrises, stars. God's creation will never cease to hold me in awe. I can't help but praise Him for the world He has given us to live in, even if it is fallen. I see the Creator's hand in his earth, and I feel His pleasure in my delight.
God is a God of love: absolute, unconditional, unrepelable love. A person enters this world with a sinful nature, unable to understand love. All they know is selfishness, and they act accordingly. God intercepts this path of depravity and begins to teach us right from wrong. We can no longer live as we used to. We are being taught what the truth is, what it means to love, what it means to have life and have it to the full.
I had skewed views of life, love, and myself: life is lived how I desire, I love only for reciprocation, and I am worthless because I live unfulfilled and I love unreturned.
It is a process. God must get rid of these old views and in their place provide the truth: that I live for God, I love because He loves me, that a life lived for Him is full of purpose, love given in Him, to Him, and from Him is good, and that He has given me worth, redeemed me.
Romans 12:1-3
Sunday, March 4, 2007
Doesn't Play Well With Others
Here, have a senior class trip. Go to an awesome country and tell the people there about God. The trip's totally paid for, because people back home think you're the right person for the job. Remember how "commissioned" you felt when you got the first donation in the mail? So there, Jessie: an all-expenses paid work trip / vacation to share the love of God with others and to create some awesome memories that will last a lifetime! It's yours!
So what's wrong with me? It's mine. It's almost here. My camera batteries are being charged as I type this. I mean, this is going to happen. But I'm not excited. In fact, I'm kind of dreading it.
Fear of the unknown. One of my most long-standing battles. What in the world will this be like? Honestly, the thought of working side by side with 43 other members of my senior class discourages me. I know how well I do in groups. Not well. I get frustrated easily. I am a person who enjoys people. But then, when I reach my time limit, I need space, my cave time, my "don't talk, just think" time.
And I know, without a doubt, God is asking me to sacrifice this. He's been doing that a lot lately. A certain friend of mine is constantly commandeering my free time. During the most recent occurrence, we were talking about love. Turns out, I know more about it than I thought, and God decided I needed to share it with her. I was trying to explain what selfless love was and I remember saying something to the tune of, "You see, it's like you and me. I spend time with you, not because I'm trying to get anything out of it [which I'm not], although I do get a lot of joy from our relationship [which I do], but because I love you [which is also true] and I want to see you become a better person."
Condemned by my own words, which were, oddly enough, not even mine to begin with [seems they made an impression]. Do I love these people? Then I'll put up with their crap in the hopes that I can help them. Turns out, when you ask God to take your life and let it be consecrated to him, he takes you up on the offer.
So that's my prayer request for this trip: that I'll be able to act in love, sacrificing my cave time as others have done for me, open to the odd opportunities God gives me to share in someone's life. God's work: draining and fulfilling. What a satisfying paradox.
So what's wrong with me? It's mine. It's almost here. My camera batteries are being charged as I type this. I mean, this is going to happen. But I'm not excited. In fact, I'm kind of dreading it.
Fear of the unknown. One of my most long-standing battles. What in the world will this be like? Honestly, the thought of working side by side with 43 other members of my senior class discourages me. I know how well I do in groups. Not well. I get frustrated easily. I am a person who enjoys people. But then, when I reach my time limit, I need space, my cave time, my "don't talk, just think" time.
And I know, without a doubt, God is asking me to sacrifice this. He's been doing that a lot lately. A certain friend of mine is constantly commandeering my free time. During the most recent occurrence, we were talking about love. Turns out, I know more about it than I thought, and God decided I needed to share it with her. I was trying to explain what selfless love was and I remember saying something to the tune of, "You see, it's like you and me. I spend time with you, not because I'm trying to get anything out of it [which I'm not], although I do get a lot of joy from our relationship [which I do], but because I love you [which is also true] and I want to see you become a better person."
Condemned by my own words, which were, oddly enough, not even mine to begin with [seems they made an impression]. Do I love these people? Then I'll put up with their crap in the hopes that I can help them. Turns out, when you ask God to take your life and let it be consecrated to him, he takes you up on the offer.
So that's my prayer request for this trip: that I'll be able to act in love, sacrificing my cave time as others have done for me, open to the odd opportunities God gives me to share in someone's life. God's work: draining and fulfilling. What a satisfying paradox.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Star?
I used to be enthralled by the Oscars. The beautiful dresses, the funny comedians, the talented Hollywood people. I completely bought into it. During spring break in 8th grade, I even got to go out to California and stood on the Kodak Theatre stage. I think that's probably when my fascination began.
I tuned in this year. I missed the first hour or so because I was at church. As I watched Al Gore receive two standing ovations and Ellen Degeneres meander around in her white tennis shoes and Clint Eastwood stumble over the intro for the honorary oscar (because he admittedly "should have brought his glasses"), I lost my enchantment. I saw it for what it really is: the Hollywood system giving itself a big pat on the back. Is this what people live for? A moment of fame? A little gold statue? A 30 second acceptance speech that's cut off by music anyway? Oddly enough, I became fairly ecclesiastical: it is all meaningless.
Tonight, I went (with my extremely proud mom) to a banquet honoring seniors with outstanding SAT scores, myself included. We sat at our assigned table behind our large name cards (I took mine home) with people we didn't know. I left the table for two minutes and came back to find that mom had already filled our table mates in on my constantly changing college plans: "She's applied to A, B, and C. She got into B and C but she hasn't heard from A..." I could recite it in my sleep I've said it so many times. Turns out, the other spectacular test taker at my table is also interested in A. More conversation about how ironic it would be.
To the buffet line we proceed. Pasta with two options (two!) of sauce: marinara or alfredo. As with my ever-present college decision, I could not choose and solicited the advice of the man in front of me. Turns out he couldn't decide either and had two separate piles of noodles with a different sauce on each. "It's like a cruise ship!" he says. "I've never been on a cruise ship." "Well, you better marry rich then!"
Back to the table. Mom disappeared for a while and things got awkward. All adults stared at me, the teenager whom they know not, and one asked the question. "Well, [glances down at the large name card] Jessica... what's next for you?"
What kind of vague question is that? What will I do when I get home? Next week? Next year? "Next? Like... after high school?" When she replied in the affirmative, I panicked. Mom had already taken the usually litany of A, B, and C. So I opted for the "give them something to laugh at so they'll leave me alone" escape route.
"Well, I'm definitely going to college." They laugh - of course she is! She did so well on the SAT! I push my advantage. "Actually, I decided that in fifth grade, so I've been ahead of schedule for some time." More laughter. They catch the irony of my current lack of plans with the existence of them seven years ago.
Keynote speaker. I don't remember anything she said. It was so cliche, I just tuned it out. Oh, well. I can always marry rich.
Was it just a big night of pats on the back? Perhaps. Was it meaningless? Maybe. I'm glad I went, but I don't put too much stock in it. It's no fun chasing the wind.
I tuned in this year. I missed the first hour or so because I was at church. As I watched Al Gore receive two standing ovations and Ellen Degeneres meander around in her white tennis shoes and Clint Eastwood stumble over the intro for the honorary oscar (because he admittedly "should have brought his glasses"), I lost my enchantment. I saw it for what it really is: the Hollywood system giving itself a big pat on the back. Is this what people live for? A moment of fame? A little gold statue? A 30 second acceptance speech that's cut off by music anyway? Oddly enough, I became fairly ecclesiastical: it is all meaningless.
Tonight, I went (with my extremely proud mom) to a banquet honoring seniors with outstanding SAT scores, myself included. We sat at our assigned table behind our large name cards (I took mine home) with people we didn't know. I left the table for two minutes and came back to find that mom had already filled our table mates in on my constantly changing college plans: "She's applied to A, B, and C. She got into B and C but she hasn't heard from A..." I could recite it in my sleep I've said it so many times. Turns out, the other spectacular test taker at my table is also interested in A. More conversation about how ironic it would be.
To the buffet line we proceed. Pasta with two options (two!) of sauce: marinara or alfredo. As with my ever-present college decision, I could not choose and solicited the advice of the man in front of me. Turns out he couldn't decide either and had two separate piles of noodles with a different sauce on each. "It's like a cruise ship!" he says. "I've never been on a cruise ship." "Well, you better marry rich then!"
Back to the table. Mom disappeared for a while and things got awkward. All adults stared at me, the teenager whom they know not, and one asked the question. "Well, [glances down at the large name card] Jessica... what's next for you?"
What kind of vague question is that? What will I do when I get home? Next week? Next year? "Next? Like... after high school?" When she replied in the affirmative, I panicked. Mom had already taken the usually litany of A, B, and C. So I opted for the "give them something to laugh at so they'll leave me alone" escape route.
"Well, I'm definitely going to college." They laugh - of course she is! She did so well on the SAT! I push my advantage. "Actually, I decided that in fifth grade, so I've been ahead of schedule for some time." More laughter. They catch the irony of my current lack of plans with the existence of them seven years ago.
Keynote speaker. I don't remember anything she said. It was so cliche, I just tuned it out. Oh, well. I can always marry rich.
Was it just a big night of pats on the back? Perhaps. Was it meaningless? Maybe. I'm glad I went, but I don't put too much stock in it. It's no fun chasing the wind.
Friday, February 23, 2007
My Active Realization
It appears that I am a senior. Yes, I've known this for quite some time now. I know that I am a "can leave campus when I'm not taking on of my five classes / sits in the front row for chapel / doesn't want to do homework because of senioritis / yells proudly "07" to anyone who will listen" senior.
But now, I've become a "will graduate in 3 months / has to decide on the far away future today / will leave my school / will leave my friends / will leave my teachers / will leave my church / will leave my life" senior.
And, honestly, it has undone me.
I'm so tired of contemplating the future. My plans rarely hold up under scrutiny: I want to reject admission to one of the best schools in the state, I want to go to a "buy a small house with the money you spent on tuition" expensive, 5 hours away college, my scholarships are falling through, my second choice might not work out. It's all so tangled and messy. I hate tangled and messy.
My Father knows His plans. I do not. But I know Him. That's enough.
What's really been heavy on my mind lately, though, is the future of my current relationships. I've gotten close to people this year: my mom, my friends, my youth group, my teachers. The hardest thing I see myself facing is letting them go. I must. I'm beginning to acknowledge the changes that will come to these relationships. For now, I can't bear the thought; I usually end up crying when left alone to think about it.
And so, I am once again confronted with a choice: if I am going to enventually let go of these people, should I loosen my grasp or tighten my fist? Should I begin withdrawing from their lives and pushing them out of mine or should I savor what time I have left with them? I want to run, with the desire of making it easier on myself in May, and to finally rid their lives of the burden I am for them, no longer victimized by my selfishness.
But I have found that what I want is usually not what God wants. And I am seeing the work He is doing in my life, for part of me longs to throw myself into these relationships selflessly. But then the other side of me worries once again about reciprocation and poses the question: "What if they will not miss you as you miss them? What if they cannot or will not return your love?"
Batter my heart, three-personed God, for you
As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
That I may rise and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurped town to another due,
Labor to admit to you, but oh, to no end;
Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captived, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly I love you, and would be lovéd fain
But am betrothed unto your enemy;
Divorce me, untie or break that knot again;
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.
But now, I've become a "will graduate in 3 months / has to decide on the far away future today / will leave my school / will leave my friends / will leave my teachers / will leave my church / will leave my life" senior.
And, honestly, it has undone me.
I'm so tired of contemplating the future. My plans rarely hold up under scrutiny: I want to reject admission to one of the best schools in the state, I want to go to a "buy a small house with the money you spent on tuition" expensive, 5 hours away college, my scholarships are falling through, my second choice might not work out. It's all so tangled and messy. I hate tangled and messy.
My Father knows His plans. I do not. But I know Him. That's enough.
What's really been heavy on my mind lately, though, is the future of my current relationships. I've gotten close to people this year: my mom, my friends, my youth group, my teachers. The hardest thing I see myself facing is letting them go. I must. I'm beginning to acknowledge the changes that will come to these relationships. For now, I can't bear the thought; I usually end up crying when left alone to think about it.
And so, I am once again confronted with a choice: if I am going to enventually let go of these people, should I loosen my grasp or tighten my fist? Should I begin withdrawing from their lives and pushing them out of mine or should I savor what time I have left with them? I want to run, with the desire of making it easier on myself in May, and to finally rid their lives of the burden I am for them, no longer victimized by my selfishness.
But I have found that what I want is usually not what God wants. And I am seeing the work He is doing in my life, for part of me longs to throw myself into these relationships selflessly. But then the other side of me worries once again about reciprocation and poses the question: "What if they will not miss you as you miss them? What if they cannot or will not return your love?"
Batter my heart, three-personed God, for you
As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
That I may rise and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurped town to another due,
Labor to admit to you, but oh, to no end;
Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captived, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly I love you, and would be lovéd fain
But am betrothed unto your enemy;
Divorce me, untie or break that knot again;
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Take It All
Back in middle school, the swirling cauldron of life lessons it seems, I decided to try out for the middle school praise team. It was my first time auditioning for anything (unless you count the time my best friend and I tried out for the talent show - I don't). I walked in and saw Goodwin behind a folding table with my audition sheet under his pen. I was scared. Very scared. He asked me what I wanted to do in the praise team. I remember mumbling something about being able to sing and play the piano (badly), guitar (barely), and flute. He turned to whoever was next to him and said, "Hey, wouldn't that be awesome? To have a flute?"
Thus, I was in the middle school praise team, playing along with the guitar cords, being miked at the wrong end, and attempting to not be heard.
Fast forward to the next year's auditions. Same room, same table, same Goodwin. This year's interview posed a new question: "Why do you want to be the middle school praise team?" Caught off guard, I told him the first thing that came to mind: "Well, I believe God has given me a gift for playing the flute, and I want to give it back to Him."
Tonight, I attended the concert of arguably the world's greatest flutist. He conquered every piece with absolute brilliance: his vibrato was heartbreaking, his double tonguing astounding, his fingering remarkable. He had perfect joy in his work; the audience's standing ovations were merely auxiliary factors in his delighted satisfaction.
It seems as though I have lost my joy for many things in my life. I get so caught up in the crazy scheduling, the fruitless rehearsals, the frustrating people involved, that I lose the whole reason I do anything: to glorify God, and then, seeing Him pleased, bringing happiness to others and maybe even myself. I love those moments where I'm up on stage, playing a solo on my flute straight from my heart, feeling God's pleasure on me. That is where I find true joy and satisfaction. Trust me - I've searched other places.
I want to give myself - my talents, my gifts, my hopes, my dreams, my potential - back to God. I want to be one in whom He is well pleased.
Take my life and let it be consecrated, Lord, to Thee... Take my hands and let them move at the impulse of Thy love... Take my feet and let them be consecrated, Lord, to Thee... Take my voice and let me sing, always, only, for my King...Take my lips and let them be filled with messages from Thee... Take my silver and my gold; not a mite would I withhold... Take my intellect and use every power as Thou shalt choose... Take my will and make it Thine; it shall be no longer mine... Take my heart it is Thine own, it shall be Thy royal throne... Take my love, my Lord, I pour at Thy feet its treasure store... Take myself and I will be, ever, only, all for Thee...
Thus, I was in the middle school praise team, playing along with the guitar cords, being miked at the wrong end, and attempting to not be heard.
Fast forward to the next year's auditions. Same room, same table, same Goodwin. This year's interview posed a new question: "Why do you want to be the middle school praise team?" Caught off guard, I told him the first thing that came to mind: "Well, I believe God has given me a gift for playing the flute, and I want to give it back to Him."
Tonight, I attended the concert of arguably the world's greatest flutist. He conquered every piece with absolute brilliance: his vibrato was heartbreaking, his double tonguing astounding, his fingering remarkable. He had perfect joy in his work; the audience's standing ovations were merely auxiliary factors in his delighted satisfaction.
It seems as though I have lost my joy for many things in my life. I get so caught up in the crazy scheduling, the fruitless rehearsals, the frustrating people involved, that I lose the whole reason I do anything: to glorify God, and then, seeing Him pleased, bringing happiness to others and maybe even myself. I love those moments where I'm up on stage, playing a solo on my flute straight from my heart, feeling God's pleasure on me. That is where I find true joy and satisfaction. Trust me - I've searched other places.
I want to give myself - my talents, my gifts, my hopes, my dreams, my potential - back to God. I want to be one in whom He is well pleased.
Take my life and let it be consecrated, Lord, to Thee... Take my hands and let them move at the impulse of Thy love... Take my feet and let them be consecrated, Lord, to Thee... Take my voice and let me sing, always, only, for my King...Take my lips and let them be filled with messages from Thee... Take my silver and my gold; not a mite would I withhold... Take my intellect and use every power as Thou shalt choose... Take my will and make it Thine; it shall be no longer mine... Take my heart it is Thine own, it shall be Thy royal throne... Take my love, my Lord, I pour at Thy feet its treasure store... Take myself and I will be, ever, only, all for Thee...
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