Where do I go from here?

Where do I go from here?  The question rolls in my head day in and day out.

Years ago when I first found faith I tried to describe to a friend what I was experiencing.  I told her how I had been in a mucky rushing river and all of sudden I was on land.  My life had been spent in the river.  I didn’t know how to live on land.  Each day was a learning experience.  Each day I became stronger.  My feet steadied and I took a deep breath. 

Then 7 years ago I was shoved into the river.  I was drowning.  Desperate for a rescue. Rescue never came.  Where do I go from here?  I thought if I could just make it back to shore...  If I could make it to sight.  I desperately started swimming, fighting every day.  Every time I got close a storm would brew.  The lighting would strike.  The wind would rage.  And the current would drag me under.  I screamed.  I was silent.  I swam.  I floated.  Years went by. I kept fighting until finally, I had no more fight.  I was done.  The rushing waters came and I was swept away to sea.  Where do I go from here?

Turns out fighting for your soul wears out your body too.  I’d been fighting for so long it ingrained in my DNA.  Even now my body fights.  Going after the good cells.  There’s no off switch.  Will it be annoyance or will it be a pain?  Only time will tell.  No one knows tomorrow.

Body aching.

Soul empty.

Mind tired.

Where do I go from here?

I go to work.  I go home.  I wait.  I sleep.  There is no solution.  There is no answer.  There is no cure.  I can only live each day as it comes.  

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The Oh No What Do We Do with Them Crowd

Dear Church,

I’ve moved.  Again.  12 times in 7 years has taken its toll.  I’m not as optimistic as I once was, but that is not what this letter is about (though I am sure it shapes my views).  This letter is about the people of the church I like to call the “oh no what do we do with them crowd.”

The biggest demographic of this group being people who are 30 something and single.  I cannot tell you how many churches I have visited that have a Young Adults Group 18-30 and a *insert catchy name here* over 40 and single group.  While this may not be the intent, the message that often comes across to the single 30s is that it’s a bad thing to be 30 something and single and that there is no place for us in the church.  Unless... we get married.  In which case there are 17 couples small groups, Couples Retreats twice a year, and special events just for families.  It’s interesting that the single 30s are the group that often gets pushed to the wayside as Jesus himself was a 30 something single…

At this point some of you may be thinking “let’s start a single 30s group!” Please please please please please do not.  That is not what I am trying to say.  And just to be clear I am not advocating the scraping of couples’ ministries.  I believe that they are extremely important.

Let’s take a look at Corinthians 12: 14-26 for a moment:
“For the body does not consist of one member but of many. If the foot should say, ‘Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,’ that would not make it any less a part of the body. And if the ear should say, ‘Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,’ that would not make it any less a part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would be the sense of hearing? If the whole body were an ear, where would be the sense of smell? But as it is, God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose. If all were a single member, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts, yet one body.

The eye cannot say to the hand, ‘I have no need of you,’ nor again the head to the feet, ‘I have no need of you.’ On the contrary, the parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, and on those parts of the body that we think less honorable we bestow the greater honor, and our unpresentable parts are treated with greater modesty, which our more presentable parts do not require. But God has so composed the body, giving greater honor to the part that lacked it, that there may be no division in the body, but that the members may have the same care for one another. If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together.”

God choose each and every member of you Church.  The 20 something single straight out of college.  The 28 year old couple with three kids.  The 35 year old single. The 64 year old empty nesters.  The 40 year old widow.  The 80 year old newly weds.  Each one bringing something important to the table. 

Did you know that our heart is constantly communicating with our brain providing feedback and instruction?  Can you imagine if our heart only communicated with itself?  With this in mind why is it that connection groups are composed solely of people in the same life stage?  Being married or a certain adult age shouldn’t be a requirement for belonging. 

Aside: Young adult groups shouldn’t look like youth groups.  Young adults are ADULTS.  They are also not your youth group’s free labor.  Yes some young adults love to serve as a member of the youth group team; however, this doesn’t mean all young adults want to OR should.  Young adults don’t need more young adults.  They need Jesus, wisdom, and belonging.  You know who has insight into all of these areas? Older adults. 

Okay back to the point. Church I know you are tired.  I know that you work hard.  I know that I, and many others, am quick to point out your weaknesses and not quick enough to point out your strengths.  And I know that you are striving to do your very best.  Its okay that you don’t know what to do with us.  Often we don’t know what to do with ourselves either.  Come alongside us and lets figure it out together.  We’ll all be healthier because of it.

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The Little Engine who Couldn't

Once upon a time there was a little engine.  This little engine didn’t like being little.  This little engine wanted to be a great big engine.  Little engine wanted to leave the yard and explore what was over the great big hill ahead.  For little engine had heard many stories about what lay ahead.  Both good and bad.  The people in the yard didn’t take care of little engine. Little engine kept getting dirtier and dirtier.  Scratches, bruises, and dents covered little engine.  So little engine decided to leave the yard.  Along little engine chugged.  Pretending they were a great big engine.  They scooted slowly up the hill.  It was hard.  Big engines chugged past little engine but little engine kept going.  It could see the top of the hill ahead.  Slowly slowly little engine chugged.  

Finally, little engine wasn’t so little any more.  In fact little engine was quite big.  Little engine was more determined then ever to make it to the top of the hill.  Chugga chugga chugga chugga almost there.  Little engine heard the other little engines from the yard.  They had grown and were coming up the hill too!  They started to pass little engine.  This just made little engine more determined to reach the top of the hill.  But because little engine had left when they were so small they didn’t have as much fuel as the big engines.  Just before little engine got to the top of the hill little engine became empty.  Down down down fell little engine back into the yard…

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Trust Restorers... at the Auto Dealership?

“Trust, once lost, could not be easily found. Not in a year, perhaps not even in a lifetime.”

-J.E.B Spredemann

Trust is complicated; once it is broken it is hard to recover.  Thankfully in life there are people who are Trust Restorers.  These are the people who work and wait (and wait and wait and wait) to earn the trust of those whose faith is lost.  One of my favorite Trust Restorer stories comes from Love What Matters:

I read this story over and over.  How easy it would have been for the mom to respond a different way.  The rebuilding of trust is hard work.  She chose the long road.  The road that leads to transformation.     

This past week I met a group of Trust Restorers…. at the auto dealership.  Ohhh the irony.  First, to catch you up to speed, let’s just say that my last experience at a dealership was less than ideal (it was horrible). I’ve needed a new car for quite some time, but kept putting it off.  Finally, I decided to look online.  Within seconds I found a great car.  It had everything I wanted (and more) and was within my budget.  I went to the dealer for a test drive fully expecting:

1. for it to be not as advertised

2. for them to bully me

3. for them to scam me

Well, it was as advertised.  In fact, it was even more wonderful.  I tell the dealer I’m interested in purchasing the vehicle.  As he’s talking me through the buying process I begin to melt down.  He notices.  Before I know it I’m spilling my whole story in the middle of the dealership.  He stops me and says “I’m sorry that happened to you.  I want you to trust me.  I need you to trust me so you can recommend me to others.”  He gets up and comes back with a stack of papers.  For the next hour he walks me through every charge and every line of the contract. There is nothing hidden.  The contract is completely transparent. 

Then they send me to manager to sign all the finance papers and of course I begin to melt down.  The manager notices.  And once again I’m spilling my story.  He stops me and says “What happened to you was illegal.  That is not okay.”  Then he breaks down the price of the vehicle piece by piece.  He gives me a calculator and lets me calculate every charge over and over again until I was comfortable.  This whole thing took hours.  Not once did I feel pressured to hurry up or to agree to anything I didn’t understand.  They choose the long road for me, someone they will forget about in a few weeks’ time. 

Almost a week later and I am still in shock.  I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.  (Hopefully the family mechanic will give it a clean bill of health on Thursday!) 

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Processing

Have you ever walked in somewhere and instantly felt at home?  That's how I felt the moment I walked into the doors of the church I've been attending the past few months.  Every Sunday Americans, Ghanians, French, Chinese, Mexicans, Canadians, Cameroonians, Philippinos, South Africans, Swedes, Colombians, Brits, Germans, New Zealanders, Taiwanese and many more stand side by side worshiping.  International churches are unique.  Each culture and each denomination represented brings truth to the community.  I love international churches.      

During worship today we sang a new song:

"Give thanks to God for he is good..."  As we sang together this morning I began looking around and was overcome with grief.  This place was suppose to be my home.  This was where I was suppose to dig my roots in deep.  This was suppose to be where I would serve.  This was suppose to be where I would grow.   I don't understand why I moved across the world only to move back again, but I know...

that he is good

that he is trustworthy

that he is true

that he is steadfast

and for that I am thankful.

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Reflections on Cities, Nature, and Emotionally Healthy Spirituality

Yesterday I was moping about living in big cities.  Since graduating I have lived in some of the biggest cities in the world.  Don't get me wrong there are some wonderful things about living in big cities; however, I have found there is a certain tiredness that comes from living in a big city.  Nature has always refilled my soul.  There is something calming about the top of a mountain or the middle of the forest.  I assumed that this tiredness was directly related to the lack of nature in big cities.  

Then last night I opened up the Emotionally Healthy Spirituality Day by Day devotional and found this quote by Mother Teresa:

"We all must take time to be silent and to contemplate, especially those who live in big cities like London and New York where everything moves so fast.... I always begin my prayer in silence, for it is in the silence of the heart that God speaks. God is the friend of silence - we need to listen to God because it's not what we say but what He says to us and through us that matters.  Prayer feeds the soul - as blood is to the body, prayer is to the soul - and it brings you closer to God.  It also gives you a clean and pure heart. A clean heart can see God, can speak to God, and can see the love of God in others."

Maybe it isn't so much a lack of nature as it is a lack of silence. 

Maybe it isn't so much a lack of nature as it is a lack of rhythm.

As I enter into an unknown season once again it becomes clearer what is important.  

Less is more.

P.S I still think nature is important.

P.P.S  Read this book.

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You want me to what?

A few months ago as I was riding the boat to work I knew that my next step was moving back east.  I threw myself whole heartedly into that plan.  I gave up my apartment, sold my things (sold my car), invested money in visas, travel, etc. and hopped on a plane not knowing when I would be back (thinking I may never move back).  Well fast forward a few months and now I am preparing to move back west.  *insert face palm* As I’ve said to a few friends recently: 

God says sell all your things and follow me to other side of the earth.

Good.

Now turn around and move back.

Had this happened 5 years ago I would have fallen apart.  In fact someone who has known me my whole life recently said to me “you are oddly calm about all of this…” And I replied “that’s the nice thing about getting older.  You just don’t care.”  Don’t get me wrong I have a lot of emotions and a lot of questions running through my head about the whole shebang, but its not putting me in a tail spin.

I am a little worried (and a bit curious) to know how I am going to land another job.  From an employer standpoint I know its going to be hard to see past the last half year and give me a chance. My resume and cover letter is going to need some serious work. 

Tonight I was reading through some old notes I came across a quote I had scribbled down at church: “God gives you an experience to carry you to your purpose.  The devil wants to make your experience your purpose.”  I tend to get tied up in the details and can sometimes forget the big picture.  Its reassuring to know that there is a bigger picture.  I may not understand it now… or ever… but its there all the same.

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Empty Room Reflections

Tonight I'm sitting in an empty apartment.  After 3 years its hard to say goodbye.  This was my first place (that I didn't have to share).  It's been an apartment of discovery.  I've discovered what I like and what I don't like.   And how to say no....loudly.  It's been my refugee in the midst of difficulty and disappointment.

As I packed my boxes I have wept.  When I moved back to the states 3 years ago I expected to find community and healing.  And while I found a lot of healing I didn't find community.  Don't get me wrong I did see community and I've met people here with great communities; however, this round peg couldn't seem to fit in a square hole.  I tried so hard to fit that I cracked.  Dejected I crawled away.  Eventually, I stumbled upon a small group of people who loved and encouraged me for 10 weeks.  They helped me to find my faith again.  (And interestingly enough not one of them is a believer.) As I entered the new year I had no idea what was next and I wasn't sure I wanted to.

Then a few weeks ago an opportunity opened up in a country I've lived in before on a small island off the coast.  And all I wanted to do was get on a plane and go, but I said no... for a long list of reasons.  But life can change in a moment.  I stepped onto a boat 2 weeks ago thinking the answer was no and stepped off 18 minutes later knowing the answer was yes.  For the next week a few "lucky" people heard me agonize over the decision.  And every time after I laid out why I shouldn't go they would smile and say it sounds like you're going.

When I first pulled into this place 3 years ago I thought I was going to discover life with others, but what I discovered was something quite different.  All of that to say once my visa is processed (hopefully quickly) I will be boarding on a plane and flying back to the other side of the world for the foreseeable future.

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Insomnia Chef

I like to be aware... of everything.

Evidently that's not recommended.

A while back I was told in no uncertain terms that my life needed an overhaul.  Pronto.

My first assignment?

To learn to be in the moment and not worried.

Easy enough. Well... you see there was this bomb squad with helicopters chasing a man with a knife. And a few days later I'm passing through more chaos. Yeah a bomb had just gone off. I go to a show with acrobats... one guy tries to catch his partner... he misses. Retreating to the safety of my home I drift off to sleep and a car lands outside my window... upside down. And there's lots of glass and lights and people. And I'm not sure I'm going to make it past the first assignment. Assignment 1 becomes assignment 1b. Find something that I like and makes me comfortable.

Steamers.  I love steamers.  I was introduced to them by a small coffee shop in the midwest.  They're warm and comforting and delicious.  My "recipe" is below.

Step 1.  Froth Milk aka make it double in size.  I use an immersion blender and a really large glass that is a quarter full.  Learned that the hard way.  I've heard people use blenders, french presses, whisks, and even just shake it.

Step 2.  Heat Milk.  I cook mine on the stove stirring until its almost boiling.

Step 3. FLAVOR.   The options are endless... Put the flavoring at the bottom of a mug.  Add the hot milk and stir (with a chopstick if you're me).

A few of my favorites:
- maple syrup
- honey and almond extract (yesssssss!)
- vanilla
- honey and cinnamon
- honey and ginger

Step 4. Savor on the couch in front of the window while it rains.

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Abusive God

“God’s abusive.”  I confidently stated.  Using some of the most depraved people of the world I laid out my case.  Highlighting the similarities between their character and the effect they had on others.  I was done with giving the “right” answer.  “It’s like they’re exactly the same.”

She looked at me thoughtfully.  “It sounds like one is counterfeit…”  

“Maybe” I shrugged.  “I had a job once where they trained us on counterfeit money.  We had to look for little differences.  A line out of place or an extra letter, but God and these people look identical.  I can’t tell the difference.”

“How do experts recognize a counterfeit?”

“They know what to look for.  They know all the little differences.”

“That’s how you tell the difference.  How do the experts know?”

They know the real one…

They know the real one…
They know the real one…

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Quitting Church

When I returned to the states I was so excited to join a church.  Hungry for authentic messy community.  Unfortunately things didn't quite turn out as I had hoped.  (Probably mostly due to my inherent dysfunction).  Tumultuous is the word I would choose to describe the journey.  After one weird trip followed by a season of multiple transitions I reached a point where I couldn't cope any more.  For two years I had been fighting to do the "right" thing.  Showing up because that is what you're suppose to do.  Trying (albeit not so skillfully) to work my way into community.  I was exhausted and drained.  There was minimal life-giving margin in my life.  I did the "wrong" thing and I stopped going to church.



My batteries began to charge.  Not fully and not so well, but enough for this season.  And then people appeared.  People who don't believe.  People who are temporary.  People who care.  I'm thankful for them.  So thankful.  Our season together is short.  It's not a go deep community but its genuine and life-giving.  They're the bridge I so desperately needed.  And I'm not so sure what to make of it.  Because I believe in the church.  And I know it's not perfect.  Nothing is.  But running without oxygen only lasts for so long.  More transition looms on the horizon.  And there's a lot of muck to muck because I'm content for all the wrong reasons.

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