intro to a question

I carried the torch of being an English major for about one year. Part of the reason I initially desired to tout my proud identity of the elite who read and write on a regular basis, was that in recent years I awoken to my passion for writing. Good phrases, well written thoughts, have often struck me more deeply and profoundly than spoken words.
This effort seemed well under way, and only God Himself could find a way to stop me. In the past year, a great interupption took place in my life. One that has been plotted and transpired by God for the entirity of my life, which has become the most apparent since April 2004, though links from before that can be found. I am getting married this December. When you find yourself an independent person, in a society that praises women for being so, your pedestal to yourself can become higher and higher with time. I had begun to believe that I would not get married for another 5 to 10 years at least, and in that time perhaps start working on a Masters in a seminary, go to Africa, and several other bloated efforts in order to make my life feel valuable. Of course, as it always seems, God has humbled and brought me to a place of remembrance, that the greatest place is His will. And His will can be as simple or complicated as He chooses. This also provides a context to not challenge the fact that being identified as His child, is enough. This also challenges an idea that being a wife, and one day a mother, is somehow not satisifying to God, when I could be doing much greater things. But these things remain things, and remain in the will of God for another person. There are always seemingly never enough people for the work at hand. But then it remains to be left in the hands of the greatest one, the only one who can possibly fulfill all things great.
I must admit a great crisis at one point or another, when I realized I was engaged to be married. Through time, discussion and prayer, this also meant that I might have to give up the school I was going to, the grants I was receiving, and leaving behind the comfort of friends, networks of churchs and people that I was familiar with, as well as the safety of knowing that whatever I was doing that was great in my mind would either become nonexistant or change to whatever God saw fit. I imagined myself as Julianna Moore in "The Hours," depressed and bored with life, because all I would do is sit around and make a home for my husband. My God what misery I found in that. I know some joyfully take this task, of being amazing homemakers, and I cannot nor will I ever criticize that honorable calling, but in the present state of mind I began to feel trapped. Until I actually spoke to my fiance whom actually felt the same way as me regarding who I would be as his wife. A woman free to express, to explore, to dive in discussions and debates, to be used by God, to make a home together (though I must admit to finding myself becoming strangely attracted to the more traditional perceptions of wifehood).
I recently gave up my ideas of finished up my English degree at a California State University, and in some ways, have given up finishing school as my highest accomplishment. It has for many years, been an ideal, a proof of worth, intelligence and diligence. This does not mean I endorse every woman leaving school behind because they receive a proposal and ring from a suitable husband. In all honesty I have had to fight my perception that clings onto finishing within the next few years, when in fact God could have me never finish, or finish in His timing, versus mine. This is the road that God has set before me.
I have fought and fought with God about finishing school, about getting married after I finish, about my life look quite heroic and saintly, and He is steadily, and gently, taking this away. The way a parent nurtures their child into giving up the baby blanket that they believe is a true source of comfort, when in actuality it is a novelty item that bears immaturity.
In my desire to pursue the skills gained through my four years of education,(years that were not wasted or in vain, and are the only years spend completing any education then I will be satisfied), then I am continuing a path that alludes me, frustrates me, and gives me freedom.
I asked my fiance to give me something to write about, something broad, and he asked me "What does being a Proverbs 31 woman mean to you?" At once I mildy cringed, and remembered my intial reaction to reading the passage that disgusted and offended me. Far, but not too far from that reaction, I want to understand this illusive passage that at times brings me joy, and other times confuses and alludes me.

verbal trash

Well, I have not posted anything in the last year or more. I originally made the decision to stop under the presupposition that no one was really even reading the blog, but I must admit that is now a freeing and motivating factor to keep on typing whatever I want to say. Or perhaps, I am finding a new found freedom to express myself in whatever fashion I find fit. Though I know that can't necessarily be true, because we are always held under the guard and vise that someone, somewhere, will have to read our once flippantly stated words with a sigh or pursed lips wondering what we were thinking. Then, with a sigh and pursed lips,we reply that we just wanted to say what was on our mind at that moment, and at that moment does not necessarily reflect what we feel now, or think now, since we are much more enlightened than that dark period. If only we were actually such clever people.

see? simple

Grasp simplicity,
Yes-take it in your hand, no the other one,
now throw it in the stack,
not that one the other one the bigger one!
Now try and find it-
see?
simple.

all I can do is pray..............?

So I volunteer to help out with a re-entry workshop, something that is not an issue for me, because I have gone through re-entry issues on multiple occasions. And then I say "put me in anything, I don't care." So I have to write a curriculum for parents talking to their kids, and helping them through their experiences. Yet, I am not a parent, don't really work with kids...ya. And then, beyond that, I perhaps am speaking to a group of parents, as a 22 year old about what they can do as a family...yet this is not what we ever did in my family. My experience usually consisted of telling a few stories to each person, and perhaps sharing some photos with my dad and sister, and no one else would ask. So once again I would speaking on a subject I don't even know about. Needless to say, my overconfidence and willingness to say yes to anything, even when I should perhaps stop and think, has gotten me in shoulder deep.

extraordinary stories, none my own

A few days ago, I sat in a coffee shop with my mentor affectionally known as Barb, and a friend named Luke. As he told the story of the last two years and where God had taken him; some of the recollections of being present when feelings were felt came to mind, and the words rolled in and then out of my mind. It reminded me of when he spoke in the past, when I couldn't move, when all I could physically was listen, because the story was beyond the everyday ordinary into holy extraordinary. Those the words brought me to a place of stillness, and brought together facts I had not known; some of the beauty did not surface immediately.
Tonight, after eating two dinners, an early and then late one; some friends had asked to pull out the Vatican approved "Mother Teresa" movie. I thought lightly of it, and did not mind the idea of watching something with heavy subject matter. I continue to forget that I am not as hardened as I used to be.If I was a Buddhist, Atheist or Hindu, she would be a woman who had strong faith, a radical and champion in her faith, and the causes she continued until her death. I am not, however, and with that came more than just empty words or worldly actions. Though the movie carried it's moments of sentimental editing, the words spoken by the character playing Mother Teresa were humbling. At one point, she was praying, and mentioned her suffering being nothing if it meant people coming to know Christ. At the end of the film, through images of the work that was done during the life of Mother Teresa, a prayer written by St. Francis of Assisi was being said by various characters:

"Lord, make me an instrument of your peace,
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy;
O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life."

My mind flashed back to the conversation in the Starbucks, where Luke mentioned a morning where our group doing ministry had been asked to stand by a flag (each representing a country that was present), and to pray for that country. He said that he sat by the flag for an hour, unable to pray. He asked the Lord why, to which He replied "Because Luke, you don't care, you don't care."
I was struck by my own levels of thought for others. Do I care? What evidence is there of it? I remember seeing, and knowing the suffering that takes place on the streets of various cities. To see a blind man beg on the streets of Bangkok, to know Romanian orphans who feel abandoned, especially by God. Am I willing to experience suffering for others sake as Christ did? Am I willing to let my life not be about me, the easiest sin? The tears came forth then, as they do now.
At another point in the movie (though I am unaware if this truly occurred), a priest had prayed before a surgery Mother Teresa was about to go through, to take his life instead of Mother Teresa, if it be "Your will, Your only will." In the film, he died. My thoughts turned towards my posessions, towards my conception of everyday, tomorrow, of my perceptions of marriage, of the call on my life. Have I really been worrying about school? About buying this cd or getting a haircut?
I am incapable of loving in the capacity God has called me to. And sharing in Christs suffering goes beyond my heart; and the perceptions of a feel good Christianity fly and fall flat next to this. Though hard, though far reaching, this is the vibrancy of Christ. And though these feel like words coming from my trembling hands, I know that living in Him is loving as He does, seeing as He does, and suffering as He does.
At church this past weekend, the pastor challenged the preconceived notions often present in believers lives. Saying with a smile and asking to know God's will. "Do we really want to know God's will?" was the question he kept asking. And often that carries what we don't anticipate, what we might not want, not what we think we need, or want, and would kick and scream-or run and hide if we really knew.
I don't believe there are accidents, or coincedences. The Starbucks talk, the church talk, nor the Mother Teresa movie all lining up to remind me about who I am. "A pencil in the hand of God," as said in the movie.

logical meltdown

You know the moment when completely caught off guard by a statement of fact, a decision, something that affects you completely and yet you had no control, no say in it, it feels like you were slapped awake from a dream, and you have to shake off what was once in your head to the reality before you.
After years of trying to sell their flower shop, my mother and stepfather are glad to be rid of it. And this frees them to move, to get new jobs, to not be self employed and have some sense of weight of duty lifted from them. After years of talking about her desire to move to Washington, my mother might finally have her dream. I can't be sad about this, well, in regards to them- I know the change will be a relief for them. But when I was told, my mind went blank and reverted to what it always does- "okay, possibility A, possibility B,C,D,E; or maybe part of A and C" until my logic carries me to the best conclusion, and I choose from there. At least that was what carried me through so many years of time. And this time, well, this time it's different.
My life already carried it's uncertainties, with leaving the church I was attending, with feeling at odds with school. And yet, for some time now, I have felt the desire to stay here and finish school here. I prayed and felt like I should finish what I started, that the skills gained would not be in vain, and the stability of some routine. It was, and remained until now the most logical conclusion. I had prayed months ago to move to Washington, and to do an internship with my old college pastor at his new church. I could intern and work, and wait out the year until the non-resident fees passed and then I could be considered a Washington resident and pay as much as everyone else. But then it seemed I was interning at a church for the sake of time, rather than a call and real desire. That was also when I made enough money working to live with my dad without it being any real burden to him. And since then, God led me to quit my job, to leave my old church, and once again renew my views in light of his control of my life. I will be making enough money to "make it by" in light of the current living situation I am in with my mother and stepfather, not in terms of living with my father who rents a room out of a condo and is saving up for retirement.
Every one of my logical conclusions has been defeated in one way or another, and I find that my normal fallback would mean I would not be placing my life and faith in God's hands.
It amazes that at this point, in this moment, that this is what is placed before me. And at the same time, that God knew it was coming. God was never blindsided by it all, never surprised, caught off guard, shocked, or nearly in tears. He has my adventure in His hands.

I wonder about all the things I have prayed about. Since I have so much more to fear, there is that much more reason to have faith? Since my life is changing in a way that I had not predicted, will my prayers become more real? And since my sense of control, since it has been slowly taken away, will I now even more know that my life is out of my hands? (We can all say this, but does it truly resonate?) My humaness trembles and my spirit rejoices. Here the praying begins.

time, jobs, Jesus

It's interesting how life can change when you don't have a job. The time you had hoped for is there, you have the time for the projects and movies, and you realize how much time people spend at work. Sitting and waiting, wondering if quitting your job was the right thing to do, if God really wanted that for you, or maybe you made it up?
Then the areas that need serious contemplation arise. How do I really spend my time? With my family? Praying? Or sitting up and watching CNN and "Why Can't I Be You?" (shamefully)? In the ebbs and flows of fun and guilt, people remind me of God's perfect timing. Part of quitting was releasing control to God, and letting go of my perceptions of life and them melting into His. To myself, and perhaps not noticable to those around me, I can be a control freak within the realms of my mind, to myself. Having things not work out the way I thought (I thought I would be tutoring rich kids by now), it is once again building perspective and trust that someway, somehow, this is actually working out in the best way possible, for God's sake.
I guess then what it really is about is how the time today is being used, why this time was granted to me, and not why I am unemployed.
Busyness is a culture here. When people call Southern Californians "laid back," I give a strange look and wonder how long they have lived here, because that is not the Southern California I know. I heard in a sermon a few weeks ago (in relation to Proverbs), and the pastor mentioned that if someone in Socal asks someone else from Socal what they have been up to, if the person responds "Nothing, I have really been up to anything lately." The other will give a strange look and probably think the person is lazy. I was this person about 3 years ago (before becoming a YWAMer), and I am now realizing how this culture has been sucked into the air I breathe, infecting my blood (ahh, over dramatizing can be fun). Yet being set free again is beautiful, and is not yet over; God has more to teach me about time and control. I have only begun to learn about living in the moment, and now I am beginning to learn time discipline and releasing control of what I think my future should look like. For that I can let out a shriek and "Thank God" in the same breath.