Union with God
A motor that sputters and spurts
And sometimes won't start at all
What is singing a song?
What is junk metal with a thin layer of pyrite?
Words are stones
Our mouths purge them
And are left empty.
Our power is stripped away.
But here is God.
He hears the silence and answers it.
He fills it and calls through it
And slaughters all mundaneness.
Come, he whispers.
Come to a place where your planet kisses Heaven
Come to where all creatures are fierce
Come to a place where clouds mingle with pine
Come to the place where mountains have lungs
And where water carves stone.
Stone was carved by water when I went.
My feet got dirty
And my bones got wet
But that is better than dry stifling heat.
The earth exhaled and I inhaled.
God says, Come, celebrate this union.
And I came.
I scaled peaks I couldn't climb
I conquered feats I couldn't imagine.
I gazed on things I couldn't picture.
I became part of a place.
But oceans are vast
And dipping my toe in isn't enough
The tallest mountains are not tall.
My love for God is only a sprout
That is being fed both water and poison.
But it is alive.
It is not a stone.
God bless.
Friday, July 5, 2013
Sunday, June 30, 2013
Femininity
I just want to quickly say that I am pleasantly surprised (and I hope you are too) that I have been able to post so much this summer. God has somehow provided me both the time and the words to share my experiences with you.
Juneau Summer Project is really Juneau Women's Summer Project and Juneau Men's Summer Project. Hopefully it's obvious which one I'm a part of.
The distinction is important because, although the men's and women's projects do many things together, we are separate a lot of the time and given many chances to explore and discover what it means to be specifically a man or a woman of Christ. I want to share some of my discoveries with you about myself personally. I hope and pray that this post will either give you encouragement, ways to pray for me, or both. I will make myself a bit vulnerable to you.
One of the first things that dawned on me about myself when I got here is that my femininity is important. God created me as a woman and thus I should be a woman. Our culture heavily emphasizes being individuals and not letting gender define a person. I live in an increasingly gender-irrelevant society. But this is not what God intended! "Man and woman he created them." However, I quickly realized that I feel genderless most of the time (this having never occurred to me before).
Shortly after that, I realized that the only time I noticeably feel like a woman is when I'm around men (whether or not there is anything "romantic" about my relationships with them). Thus I was faced with the root (or, one of the roots) of the problem of my many relational failures.
I meditated (or, rather, brooded) on this for a few days before I came to church for the first time while here. I was sitting in the pew looking around and admiring the way so many men here have beards. I thought, "Maybe beards are men's way of expressing their masculinity. I wish the rest of society was like that, but most men prefer to be more 'genderless' and shave their facial hair." And that's when it hit me: here I was, wearing a long skirt for church, and feeling completely feminine in it. I wore the skirt all day (as I frequently do on Sundays), and was amazed that no matter where I was, or who I was with, I felt like a woman. While beards theoretically help men feel masculine, perhaps skirts theoretically help women feel feminine.
Tending to be a radical, I made the decision to switch to a wardrobe of almost entirely skirts when I get home. I have had and still have plenty of time to roll it over in my head, weigh the pros and cons, etc., but my mind is pretty much made up. The only reason I didn't make the switch right away is because, well, I'm in Juneau, Alaska right now, and all the hiking and physical activities we do are not exactly conducive to skirt-wearing. But it is my intention. This is how God created me.
Of course I knew that Jesus is my lover and that I am his beloved, but the next thing that started happening was my remembrance of this. The passion and realism of it is incredibly touching and heart-warming, and I try to remind myself of it frequently now. What need do I have for a man when I have Christ? When I think of lofty ideas such as my relationship with God and my future of an eternity with him, the small things in this life seem much more insignificant. What does it matter who I like, or even who I marry? If I am doing God's will to the best of my ability while I'm here on this planet, and deepening my eternal relationship with him, I will find fulfillment and satisfaction; peace in my soul. I never have and never will find a better lover. When I get back to Ohio, I intend to have a weekly "date" with Jesus like the one we had here on Project that helped open my eyes to this truth. I share this intention with you to help keep myself accountable.
This past week has been another burst of revelation for me. As I said in another post, we had a panel of men on Tuesday (two married, one dating, one single) that answered questions for us women. They admitted that men actually have pretty fragile egos and that as women we need to respect them as men. It is the men's job to love the women and the women's job to respect the men. This is Biblical. It's not that women can't love men and that men can't respect women, but we have our primary roles.
This, combined with the appreciation we showed all the men on Project by baking them sweets and leaving encouraging notes in their apartment while they were out, opened my eyes to my sin of disrespecting men. I have masked this sin with the justification that I am helping them by pointing out their flaws (for example). But I admit that I can be pretty mean. I say it's good to be blunt and honest, but there is a time and a place for it. I need to respect the men in my life as my brothers.
When I was little, if I ever had trash (like a candy wrapper) that I didn't know what to do with, I tried to give it to my mom, who would refuse take it from me. "Do I look like a trashcan to you?" she would ask, wisely diverting the responsibility of the trash back to me. But now, with men I am interested in, I give them my emotions as if my emotions were trash, expecting the men to take it without asking questions. I threw away my emotions on men that didn't deserve such treatment; on men that were not trashcans at all. It was extremely disrespectful of me and was a huge waste of emotional resources. I guess one could say I need to "go green." This leads to my next point.
I pursue men. This was an almost shocking realization, as I would never ask a guy out, initiate a kiss, or anything like that (not that kissing even interests me at this point...whole 'nother story...). But I still pursue them. It occurred to me that I frequently tell the guys I like that I like them, regardless of their feelings toward me. I have always felt it my duty to "open the door" for them to walk through if they choose. But I pursue too much, and it's a sin. It's not my place to do this. In fact, I pursue men even by simply allowing myself to get crushes on them. I look for men to like. This is so typical of women in this society, and shame on us for it! That's not what letting ourselves be pursued looks like at all!
I remember a pastor that came to speak at the Cru meetings at my school multiple times. He always talks about his gorgeous wife and how she is "so fine!" Once he told the story of how they got together (and of course tied it into the Gospel). He saw her (from his place in the pulpit), was extremely attracted to her, and wanted her for his own from the get-go. From then on, he set about winning her heart, tending to her every need, pursuing her in every way possible (without being creepy and forward, hopefully), but she had no idea. She was clueless that he liked her at all. Here he was madly in love with her and she didn't even know that she was friend-zoning him. Like our relationship with Christ, he pursues us relentlessly, whether we know it or not, whether we respond to it or not. And hopefully, like this pastor, we end up "marrying" Jesus and accepting his pursuits.
Therefore I have decided to break my addiction to looking for guys and letting myself get crushes. If any man wants me, he has to get me himself! This is his role as a man. Who am I to deny this of him? Who wears the pants in the relationship?
I knew even while I was making this decision how hard this addiction would be to break. For years, almost my whole life, I have trained my brain to give my heart away to anyone I see fit (and even men who probably aren't fit). This would be where your prayers would come in. I need help. I've only been single for six months, but I am completely boy-crazy and obsessed with finding a husband. I feel like my clock for marriage is ticking, but where is my joy in the present? Where is my joy in the gift of being young and single and living freely for Christ?
My wise and good friend Lauren said that whenever I think about someone I like, I should just pray for him. Pray for him as my brother, pray for his needs and well-being. Become selfless about him. My desires are incredibly selfish of course, but every guy I meet (except one) is not my husband, but rather my brother, and I need to treat them as such. As for my future husband, the way I'm behaving is disrespectful to him too. He is also my brother, but I am giving my heart away to men who aren't him.
All this having been realized, maybe I'm officially "ready" to find the right guy and marry him. Not! This is a lie I need to be wary of. God's timing is not my own, and he is not waiting for me to figure it all out before he brings in the man of the hour. My future marriage is not dependent on me when it comes to timing. I could be asked to wait much, much longer.
This is going to be a real emotional and spiritual battle for me. Making these changes and breaking my addictions is only doable by the help of the Lord, but I need your prayers. I've known for a long time that I have a problem, and I'm still not sure how it started, but it's quite the beast to face. But the Lord deserves my best in love and attention, and frankly, so does my husband.
I wish I had a way to elegantly close this post, but as is, I am dumping all this on you, then ending it. Thank you for reading and praying.
God bless.
Juneau Summer Project is really Juneau Women's Summer Project and Juneau Men's Summer Project. Hopefully it's obvious which one I'm a part of.
The distinction is important because, although the men's and women's projects do many things together, we are separate a lot of the time and given many chances to explore and discover what it means to be specifically a man or a woman of Christ. I want to share some of my discoveries with you about myself personally. I hope and pray that this post will either give you encouragement, ways to pray for me, or both. I will make myself a bit vulnerable to you.
One of the first things that dawned on me about myself when I got here is that my femininity is important. God created me as a woman and thus I should be a woman. Our culture heavily emphasizes being individuals and not letting gender define a person. I live in an increasingly gender-irrelevant society. But this is not what God intended! "Man and woman he created them." However, I quickly realized that I feel genderless most of the time (this having never occurred to me before).
Shortly after that, I realized that the only time I noticeably feel like a woman is when I'm around men (whether or not there is anything "romantic" about my relationships with them). Thus I was faced with the root (or, one of the roots) of the problem of my many relational failures.
I meditated (or, rather, brooded) on this for a few days before I came to church for the first time while here. I was sitting in the pew looking around and admiring the way so many men here have beards. I thought, "Maybe beards are men's way of expressing their masculinity. I wish the rest of society was like that, but most men prefer to be more 'genderless' and shave their facial hair." And that's when it hit me: here I was, wearing a long skirt for church, and feeling completely feminine in it. I wore the skirt all day (as I frequently do on Sundays), and was amazed that no matter where I was, or who I was with, I felt like a woman. While beards theoretically help men feel masculine, perhaps skirts theoretically help women feel feminine.
Tending to be a radical, I made the decision to switch to a wardrobe of almost entirely skirts when I get home. I have had and still have plenty of time to roll it over in my head, weigh the pros and cons, etc., but my mind is pretty much made up. The only reason I didn't make the switch right away is because, well, I'm in Juneau, Alaska right now, and all the hiking and physical activities we do are not exactly conducive to skirt-wearing. But it is my intention. This is how God created me.
Of course I knew that Jesus is my lover and that I am his beloved, but the next thing that started happening was my remembrance of this. The passion and realism of it is incredibly touching and heart-warming, and I try to remind myself of it frequently now. What need do I have for a man when I have Christ? When I think of lofty ideas such as my relationship with God and my future of an eternity with him, the small things in this life seem much more insignificant. What does it matter who I like, or even who I marry? If I am doing God's will to the best of my ability while I'm here on this planet, and deepening my eternal relationship with him, I will find fulfillment and satisfaction; peace in my soul. I never have and never will find a better lover. When I get back to Ohio, I intend to have a weekly "date" with Jesus like the one we had here on Project that helped open my eyes to this truth. I share this intention with you to help keep myself accountable.
This past week has been another burst of revelation for me. As I said in another post, we had a panel of men on Tuesday (two married, one dating, one single) that answered questions for us women. They admitted that men actually have pretty fragile egos and that as women we need to respect them as men. It is the men's job to love the women and the women's job to respect the men. This is Biblical. It's not that women can't love men and that men can't respect women, but we have our primary roles.
This, combined with the appreciation we showed all the men on Project by baking them sweets and leaving encouraging notes in their apartment while they were out, opened my eyes to my sin of disrespecting men. I have masked this sin with the justification that I am helping them by pointing out their flaws (for example). But I admit that I can be pretty mean. I say it's good to be blunt and honest, but there is a time and a place for it. I need to respect the men in my life as my brothers.
When I was little, if I ever had trash (like a candy wrapper) that I didn't know what to do with, I tried to give it to my mom, who would refuse take it from me. "Do I look like a trashcan to you?" she would ask, wisely diverting the responsibility of the trash back to me. But now, with men I am interested in, I give them my emotions as if my emotions were trash, expecting the men to take it without asking questions. I threw away my emotions on men that didn't deserve such treatment; on men that were not trashcans at all. It was extremely disrespectful of me and was a huge waste of emotional resources. I guess one could say I need to "go green." This leads to my next point.
I pursue men. This was an almost shocking realization, as I would never ask a guy out, initiate a kiss, or anything like that (not that kissing even interests me at this point...whole 'nother story...). But I still pursue them. It occurred to me that I frequently tell the guys I like that I like them, regardless of their feelings toward me. I have always felt it my duty to "open the door" for them to walk through if they choose. But I pursue too much, and it's a sin. It's not my place to do this. In fact, I pursue men even by simply allowing myself to get crushes on them. I look for men to like. This is so typical of women in this society, and shame on us for it! That's not what letting ourselves be pursued looks like at all!
I remember a pastor that came to speak at the Cru meetings at my school multiple times. He always talks about his gorgeous wife and how she is "so fine!" Once he told the story of how they got together (and of course tied it into the Gospel). He saw her (from his place in the pulpit), was extremely attracted to her, and wanted her for his own from the get-go. From then on, he set about winning her heart, tending to her every need, pursuing her in every way possible (without being creepy and forward, hopefully), but she had no idea. She was clueless that he liked her at all. Here he was madly in love with her and she didn't even know that she was friend-zoning him. Like our relationship with Christ, he pursues us relentlessly, whether we know it or not, whether we respond to it or not. And hopefully, like this pastor, we end up "marrying" Jesus and accepting his pursuits.
Therefore I have decided to break my addiction to looking for guys and letting myself get crushes. If any man wants me, he has to get me himself! This is his role as a man. Who am I to deny this of him? Who wears the pants in the relationship?
I knew even while I was making this decision how hard this addiction would be to break. For years, almost my whole life, I have trained my brain to give my heart away to anyone I see fit (and even men who probably aren't fit). This would be where your prayers would come in. I need help. I've only been single for six months, but I am completely boy-crazy and obsessed with finding a husband. I feel like my clock for marriage is ticking, but where is my joy in the present? Where is my joy in the gift of being young and single and living freely for Christ?
My wise and good friend Lauren said that whenever I think about someone I like, I should just pray for him. Pray for him as my brother, pray for his needs and well-being. Become selfless about him. My desires are incredibly selfish of course, but every guy I meet (except one) is not my husband, but rather my brother, and I need to treat them as such. As for my future husband, the way I'm behaving is disrespectful to him too. He is also my brother, but I am giving my heart away to men who aren't him.
All this having been realized, maybe I'm officially "ready" to find the right guy and marry him. Not! This is a lie I need to be wary of. God's timing is not my own, and he is not waiting for me to figure it all out before he brings in the man of the hour. My future marriage is not dependent on me when it comes to timing. I could be asked to wait much, much longer.
This is going to be a real emotional and spiritual battle for me. Making these changes and breaking my addictions is only doable by the help of the Lord, but I need your prayers. I've known for a long time that I have a problem, and I'm still not sure how it started, but it's quite the beast to face. But the Lord deserves my best in love and attention, and frankly, so does my husband.
I wish I had a way to elegantly close this post, but as is, I am dumping all this on you, then ending it. Thank you for reading and praying.
God bless.
Weekly Spotlight
This past week I got to do a guest post for the Juneau Summer Project blog/website! It was just published, so check it out here!: http://juneausummerproject.com/?p=624
Thank you for your support for my Project and me by reading it!
UPDATE: I decided to copy and paste my post here lest it get deleted at some point. Enjoy!
I’m probably not the only one who thinks Maria’s proclamation that “the hills are alive with the sound of music” is a little hokey. The beauty here in Juneau is, of course, extremely stimulating both visually and creatively. But musically? Perhaps, being one who is a realist and not a composer, I struggle to make the connection.
However, when I walked out of the forest and onto a beach, there I saw, lining the ocean, mountains carpeted with evergreens, and behind them more mountains, so far away that their color had faded to a slate blue, and so tall that the snow at the top had still not succumbed to the heat of the summer. The sunshine filled the air with gold dust, and yet it was so clean and refreshing to breathe that it felt like getting your face splashed with water. Observing this vigorously gorgeous scene, I felt that I very nearly heard a symphony filling the vast blue sky as if coming from the lungs of the mountains themselves. But of course, realistically, I heard nothing at all of the sort. It was like blowing a dog whistle that is too high in pitch for humans to hear; you know there is sound occurring, but you are not perceptive enough to hear it for yourself. It was almost frustrating, because my heart ached with the fullness of what my eyes took in and with the emptiness in my ears.
Moments like this are common here, and I find that perhaps the best way to describe them is to say it is bringing me to life in a way that almost feels like death, much like sprinting can cause you to gasp for air even as you strengthen your body. Just before walking onto the beach (as previously described), I had climbed up a big hill in order to stand near the top of a roaring waterfall. In all my experiences in the past of being in such settings, there have been wide paths, sturdy railings, and ominous warning signs. That was not the case at all here. Although some roots and rocks made natural stairs along the path, it was narrow and even somewhat difficult to travel. It was clearly not the most visited tourist attraction. Upon arriving at the top, there was absolutely nothing holding me back from falling to my death should I lose my footing. We stepped down, clinging to trees, claiming spots along the side of a cliff to observe the white gush before us. Then we walked upstream only a few feet away to see the waterfall from a different angle. So much clear water barreled down the shallow river dangerously, but I stepped onto the wet mossy rocks that stuck out into it and wished I could sit there for a very long time. We stayed for precious few minutes and I found it to be extremely difficult to pull myself away.
I took a “pathways assessment” last week, a test about how I relate to God the best. Although I scored highest as being “contemplative,” I also realized some of the traits I have in the “naturalist” category. It’s tempting, here, to worship the created rather than the Creator, but when I look at the mountains, the waterfall, the pale blue sky at midnight, and a huge number of other beautiful and fascinating things here, my heart bursts with song for my God. I worship God in retrospect of that experience by the waterfall, but I think why I wanted so badly to stay there was so that I could worship solitarily in a most extraordinary location; a place quite tucked away in the earth where I could touch cheeks with him. Afterward, though, when I crossed the beach to the water, I climbed into a boat and stood in it while it sped past countless more things too beautiful for words, and in that longer moment I fully worshiped God in and through my admiration of it all.
That night, after returning to campus, about 15 of us gathered in the lodge for a worship night. I didn’t sing as much as I’d have liked and I had to sit down during most of it due to dizziness (from seasickness or dehydration?), but I definitely worshiped. Despite my exhaustion, I stayed for over two hours, listening to and participating in worshipful music played and sung by people I have been growing to love. I stayed until there was only one person left noodling on a guitar quietly, again finding myself in a situation I felt unable to pull myself away from because of the beauty and sheer glory of God’s participation in it all.
Whether or not the hills are truly alive, whether or not God breathed life into anything except Adam in the garden of Eden, whether or not there’s a song I can’t hear, whether or not the songs I do hear and sing are worth anything at all, I am learning that God is more powerful and extraordinary than I could have ever imagined him to be.
God bless.
Thank you for your support for my Project and me by reading it!
UPDATE: I decided to copy and paste my post here lest it get deleted at some point. Enjoy!
I’m probably not the only one who thinks Maria’s proclamation that “the hills are alive with the sound of music” is a little hokey. The beauty here in Juneau is, of course, extremely stimulating both visually and creatively. But musically? Perhaps, being one who is a realist and not a composer, I struggle to make the connection.
However, when I walked out of the forest and onto a beach, there I saw, lining the ocean, mountains carpeted with evergreens, and behind them more mountains, so far away that their color had faded to a slate blue, and so tall that the snow at the top had still not succumbed to the heat of the summer. The sunshine filled the air with gold dust, and yet it was so clean and refreshing to breathe that it felt like getting your face splashed with water. Observing this vigorously gorgeous scene, I felt that I very nearly heard a symphony filling the vast blue sky as if coming from the lungs of the mountains themselves. But of course, realistically, I heard nothing at all of the sort. It was like blowing a dog whistle that is too high in pitch for humans to hear; you know there is sound occurring, but you are not perceptive enough to hear it for yourself. It was almost frustrating, because my heart ached with the fullness of what my eyes took in and with the emptiness in my ears.
Moments like this are common here, and I find that perhaps the best way to describe them is to say it is bringing me to life in a way that almost feels like death, much like sprinting can cause you to gasp for air even as you strengthen your body. Just before walking onto the beach (as previously described), I had climbed up a big hill in order to stand near the top of a roaring waterfall. In all my experiences in the past of being in such settings, there have been wide paths, sturdy railings, and ominous warning signs. That was not the case at all here. Although some roots and rocks made natural stairs along the path, it was narrow and even somewhat difficult to travel. It was clearly not the most visited tourist attraction. Upon arriving at the top, there was absolutely nothing holding me back from falling to my death should I lose my footing. We stepped down, clinging to trees, claiming spots along the side of a cliff to observe the white gush before us. Then we walked upstream only a few feet away to see the waterfall from a different angle. So much clear water barreled down the shallow river dangerously, but I stepped onto the wet mossy rocks that stuck out into it and wished I could sit there for a very long time. We stayed for precious few minutes and I found it to be extremely difficult to pull myself away.
I took a “pathways assessment” last week, a test about how I relate to God the best. Although I scored highest as being “contemplative,” I also realized some of the traits I have in the “naturalist” category. It’s tempting, here, to worship the created rather than the Creator, but when I look at the mountains, the waterfall, the pale blue sky at midnight, and a huge number of other beautiful and fascinating things here, my heart bursts with song for my God. I worship God in retrospect of that experience by the waterfall, but I think why I wanted so badly to stay there was so that I could worship solitarily in a most extraordinary location; a place quite tucked away in the earth where I could touch cheeks with him. Afterward, though, when I crossed the beach to the water, I climbed into a boat and stood in it while it sped past countless more things too beautiful for words, and in that longer moment I fully worshiped God in and through my admiration of it all.
That night, after returning to campus, about 15 of us gathered in the lodge for a worship night. I didn’t sing as much as I’d have liked and I had to sit down during most of it due to dizziness (from seasickness or dehydration?), but I definitely worshiped. Despite my exhaustion, I stayed for over two hours, listening to and participating in worshipful music played and sung by people I have been growing to love. I stayed until there was only one person left noodling on a guitar quietly, again finding myself in a situation I felt unable to pull myself away from because of the beauty and sheer glory of God’s participation in it all.
Whether or not the hills are truly alive, whether or not God breathed life into anything except Adam in the garden of Eden, whether or not there’s a song I can’t hear, whether or not the songs I do hear and sing are worth anything at all, I am learning that God is more powerful and extraordinary than I could have ever imagined him to be.
God bless.
Saturday, June 29, 2013
Highs and Lows
Last night during action group (small group Bible study), we went around the circle and talked about our highs and lows of the past week. I thought it would make for a good update to share them with you. I always start with my lows because, hey, who wants to hear the bad news last?? No one.
Lows:
I haven't gotten a whole lot of sleep lately which makes it pretty difficult for me to function. Some people are "okay" on three hours a night, but I am really run-down by getting five hours a night. My brain and body are much less reliable and that's hard for me.
My job at Walmart isn't awesome (yet). The work feels tedious, meaningless, and it can be frustrating at times when the tasks we're given don't work the way they should. It's also hard to connect with people there because there are so many employees and we don't get a lot of time with any one of them to get close and make a difference. I think it will get better though, as long as I continue to try to talk to people and make friends while I'm there. I work with four other Project people, so that helps a lot too.
Highs:
Last Thursday, we had an "International Dinner" which I learned a lot from. It feels so much in the past though that all I'm going to say is that it helped open my eyes to global need for the Gospel and the importance of missions all across the world.
On Friday night we went camping. It was the latest sunset of the year (10:08 p.m.) because of the summer solstice, and we women hung out on a fairly small island that we had pretty much to ourselves. I went off by myself and explored, walking along the rocky beach, finding some cool things, climbing the big hill which made me feel like a mountaineer, climbing back down and gtting quite tangled up in the brush and "devil's club." It was awesome to have my own personal adventure for a while. I loved bonding with the other women afterward for the rest of the night.
Saturday rolled around and we went downtown to evangelize for a little bit. I paired with Ryan B. and we had an awesome conversation with two women while doing Soularium with them.
After that, we had a bonfire on Sandy Beach that we used as an outreach. That is, making people feel a part of our group and just being friends with the locals. Social events like that are great chances to make connections and be inclusive. It was a lot of fun.
That night, a lot of us ran the "Only Fools Run at Midnight" 5k. We all dressed up in costumes, like fools, and ran around Juneau in the middle of the night. Because it was overcast, it was pretty dark, too. I fell behind everyone else in Cru because I have been really slacking on my running lately and am not super in-shape right now. I kept a slow and steady pace because I didn't want to wear myself out and have to walk, especially with some of the steep hills making it more difficult. I succeeded in "running" the entire time, even though I was running alone. I was pleased to find that I did not feel abandoned or alone, but enjoyed the time alone with my thoughts and observations as I ran along. I sprinted my fastest at the end, of course, and all the Cru people were there cheering for me.
On Sunday, I was a total grump about "ladies' fishing day" because it meant missing church, relaxing time, and Ultimate Frisbee, and because I don't have my fishing license and don't really enjoy fishing at all (sorry, Dad). However, I saw some pretty miraculous things, like being on the water surrounded by mountains, getting to hike up to a waterfall at first, and just being in awe of God's beauty. By the way, I wrote a post about this experience for the Project blog, which I will share with you once it's posted.
On Monday, we had a panel of men during the women's Bible study. Our questions were anonymous because we wrote them on notecards. It was not all relevant information to us (as a lot of what was talked about related to marriage; meanwhile, most of us women are single), but it was super informative and it re-awoke a respect and appreciation for men and inspired me to serve them and love them as my brothers.
On Tuesday after our Cru weekly meeting, we had a "$5 prom" where we all wore dorky dress clothes from the thrift store and had a dance party. It was really fun, and I really let go of any and all shame I had and danced as crazily as I could the entire night. A lot of people laughed at me (not mockingly, but because I was funny--who knew?) and I was really surprised when several people told me I was a good dancer. I guess the key to good dancing is not caring about whether or not I'm moving too much, but moving as much as I want without shame. One of my guy friends tried to partner dance with me at one point, and I utterly failed at it. I had no idea how to respond to his movements or go along with it. I also know I'm confined by choreographed dances. It was nice to just have a great beat for two hours and do whatever I wanted with it.
On Wednesday, I had the opportunity to express my desire to serve my brothers, because during women's development time, all of us baked sweets for the men while they were gone, wrote them notes, and picked daisies for them. We got to sneak into their apartments and leave our goodies for them to find, and I think they felt super honored by it. Afterward, we all got "affirmed" one by one by our leaders, which was super encouraging and honoring.
That's a lot of highs!! So happy to report this.
Today (Friday), we had intentional "quiet time"and are soon going to go rock climbing and mountain-climbing. All the men are going camping all weekend, so the women are going to be having "adventure weekend" by ourselves and doing fun stuff today and tomorrow. Hopefully it will be a growing, bonding experience.
Thank you, readers, for all your prayers, encouragement, and support. I have been doing some thinking about how we can deepen our impact here instead of focusing on so much personal growth, but frankly, the personal growth I have been experiencing is/was much-needed.
God bless.
Lows:
I haven't gotten a whole lot of sleep lately which makes it pretty difficult for me to function. Some people are "okay" on three hours a night, but I am really run-down by getting five hours a night. My brain and body are much less reliable and that's hard for me.
My job at Walmart isn't awesome (yet). The work feels tedious, meaningless, and it can be frustrating at times when the tasks we're given don't work the way they should. It's also hard to connect with people there because there are so many employees and we don't get a lot of time with any one of them to get close and make a difference. I think it will get better though, as long as I continue to try to talk to people and make friends while I'm there. I work with four other Project people, so that helps a lot too.
Highs:
Last Thursday, we had an "International Dinner" which I learned a lot from. It feels so much in the past though that all I'm going to say is that it helped open my eyes to global need for the Gospel and the importance of missions all across the world.
On Friday night we went camping. It was the latest sunset of the year (10:08 p.m.) because of the summer solstice, and we women hung out on a fairly small island that we had pretty much to ourselves. I went off by myself and explored, walking along the rocky beach, finding some cool things, climbing the big hill which made me feel like a mountaineer, climbing back down and gtting quite tangled up in the brush and "devil's club." It was awesome to have my own personal adventure for a while. I loved bonding with the other women afterward for the rest of the night.
Saturday rolled around and we went downtown to evangelize for a little bit. I paired with Ryan B. and we had an awesome conversation with two women while doing Soularium with them.
After that, we had a bonfire on Sandy Beach that we used as an outreach. That is, making people feel a part of our group and just being friends with the locals. Social events like that are great chances to make connections and be inclusive. It was a lot of fun.
That night, a lot of us ran the "Only Fools Run at Midnight" 5k. We all dressed up in costumes, like fools, and ran around Juneau in the middle of the night. Because it was overcast, it was pretty dark, too. I fell behind everyone else in Cru because I have been really slacking on my running lately and am not super in-shape right now. I kept a slow and steady pace because I didn't want to wear myself out and have to walk, especially with some of the steep hills making it more difficult. I succeeded in "running" the entire time, even though I was running alone. I was pleased to find that I did not feel abandoned or alone, but enjoyed the time alone with my thoughts and observations as I ran along. I sprinted my fastest at the end, of course, and all the Cru people were there cheering for me.
On Sunday, I was a total grump about "ladies' fishing day" because it meant missing church, relaxing time, and Ultimate Frisbee, and because I don't have my fishing license and don't really enjoy fishing at all (sorry, Dad). However, I saw some pretty miraculous things, like being on the water surrounded by mountains, getting to hike up to a waterfall at first, and just being in awe of God's beauty. By the way, I wrote a post about this experience for the Project blog, which I will share with you once it's posted.
On Monday, we had a panel of men during the women's Bible study. Our questions were anonymous because we wrote them on notecards. It was not all relevant information to us (as a lot of what was talked about related to marriage; meanwhile, most of us women are single), but it was super informative and it re-awoke a respect and appreciation for men and inspired me to serve them and love them as my brothers.
On Tuesday after our Cru weekly meeting, we had a "$5 prom" where we all wore dorky dress clothes from the thrift store and had a dance party. It was really fun, and I really let go of any and all shame I had and danced as crazily as I could the entire night. A lot of people laughed at me (not mockingly, but because I was funny--who knew?) and I was really surprised when several people told me I was a good dancer. I guess the key to good dancing is not caring about whether or not I'm moving too much, but moving as much as I want without shame. One of my guy friends tried to partner dance with me at one point, and I utterly failed at it. I had no idea how to respond to his movements or go along with it. I also know I'm confined by choreographed dances. It was nice to just have a great beat for two hours and do whatever I wanted with it.
On Wednesday, I had the opportunity to express my desire to serve my brothers, because during women's development time, all of us baked sweets for the men while they were gone, wrote them notes, and picked daisies for them. We got to sneak into their apartments and leave our goodies for them to find, and I think they felt super honored by it. Afterward, we all got "affirmed" one by one by our leaders, which was super encouraging and honoring.
That's a lot of highs!! So happy to report this.
Today (Friday), we had intentional "quiet time"and are soon going to go rock climbing and mountain-climbing. All the men are going camping all weekend, so the women are going to be having "adventure weekend" by ourselves and doing fun stuff today and tomorrow. Hopefully it will be a growing, bonding experience.
Thank you, readers, for all your prayers, encouragement, and support. I have been doing some thinking about how we can deepen our impact here instead of focusing on so much personal growth, but frankly, the personal growth I have been experiencing is/was much-needed.
God bless.
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Friends' Photos from Juneau (third week)
I don't take pictures, really, so I'm sharing my friends' in order to show/update everyone back home. You can click them to see a larger image.
Courtney's Photos (with my comments):
Janae's Photos:
Kiley's Photos:
Courtney's Photos (with my comments):
The mountains chill right behind the buildings down town. You can see the waterfalls coming down the side, a result of the snow melting in the summer heat.
The docks
Everything in Juneau is ginormous, including the dandelions, which are everywhere and make a good snack for bears.
Just some beautiful mountains. No big deal.
The view of the sunset over the mountains from our first camping trip. Photography is unable to capture the true colors and beauty of it, unfortunately.
After the sun had set the night of our second camping trip. I'm pretty sure that's me standing out there. The sky wasn't much darker than this the entire night. This photo was probably taken around 11:00 p.m.
Where we slept for our second camping trip. This was the view we woke up to.
Janae's Photos:
A mountain affected by the sunset (first camping trip)
Janae & me at the Breeze-In
Just another sunset
The view from pretty much everywhere you look (this one is from the road between the University and downtown Juneau)
Me in front of the sunset (second camping trip)
Me in front of the sunset again, walking in from the wet sand at low tide
Not sure what trail this was taken from
My roommates & me right outside our apartment all geared up before our first camping trip: Maryann, Kiley, Sarah, & Lexi
Me walking on a sweet log on the way out to our second camping site
I was surrounded by flowers and felt like a fairy, so this is me being a fairy.
The view from our hike out to our second camping site
That same trail in the woods the next morning
Molly's Photos:
This is my current profile picture. I found this flowers already bundled up and slightly wilted just sitting on some pine branches. In the background is my good friend Lauren laughing.
I wasn't there when this photo was taken, but I saw a very similar view by Costco the other day, probably at the same time she took this picture.
Thank you, everyone, for your kind support in sending me on this trip! For more updates written by some of my teammates, feel free to "like" the facebook page at: https://www.facebook.com/JuneauSummerProject or check out the blog at: http://juneausummerproject.com/?p=607!
God bless.
Monday, June 17, 2013
The Man with the Guitar
I don't know why, but I will always remember a stranger I saw in the Miami airport on our way home from Jamaica.
For some reason, when we got there, we had to go through all the security again and we had to find our luggage and take it to our next flight ourselves. A lot happened in that short amount of time we were there, and I mostly remember feeling rushed and confused. We didn't even have time to grab dinner, so I bought a lunchable and ate it on the flight before I slept restlessly the rest of the way home.
But when we first got to Miami, I remember having to stand in a very, very long line, one of those winding back-and-forth lines that they have at amusement parks. I guess this was a way of "checking in" to the United States (customs?), because they looked at our Passports and everything. It was a constantly moving line, but it seemed to take forever to get through. A woman working there stood in the middle of it all and yelled at you if you weren't "keeping up" with the person in front of you or walking fast enough. Everyone looked grumpy, tired, miserable. What a warm welcome back to the States, right?!
A short distance in front of us was a man carrying a guitar. Because of the back-and-forth nature of the line, we would frequently pass him, then pass him again the other way, etc. When I say he was carrying a guitar, I don't mean he was hauling a case around. I mean he was playing it. Skilled noodles that he would repeat over and over. He did not seem to be trying; he was clearly talented, but not showing off either. He had a serene smile on his face; wavy silver hair tied back in a long ponytail; small hoop earrings in each ear; tanned, aging skin; and light blue, lively eyes. I don't remember what he wore, but I remember he looked a bit unconventional. He had a healthy, lean build and was not very tall.
I loved it. I loved listening to him, hearing that whisper of beautiful music coming from his tender, masterful fingers in the midst of the bustle and noise of everyone else. He strolled along, and when the woman yelled at him to keep up, to walk at a clipper pace, he just directed his gentle smile at her and nodded slightly. He completely ignored her commands and continued to walk at the pace he desired.
At the end of the line, there were a number of different "clerks" you could go up to who would check your passport and customs paperwork. Like a grocery store, there were small lines behind each one of those as well. Of course I chose the line with the man with the guitar at the end of it, and my friend Mark stood with me. Actually I may have followed Mark there, I'm not sure. Unashamed, I watched the man play and looked at him admiringly. When he saw me watching, I smiled at him and he smiled back, then he turned away again, lost in his own world. He visited the clerk and walked away forever. Mark commented to me shortly thereafter that he thought the man smelled bad, but I didn't notice.
I thought a man like the man with the guitar was completely out-of-place in a busy airport, but I relished his calm presence. I wish I could have spoken with him, learned his name, heard his story, but he was just like almost every other stranger I've ever seen: in my life for a moment, gone again. The man with the guitar is only a memory to me, but he is roaming this Earth somewhere, even at this moment. What can I learn from this? I have no idea, but I know I haven't forgotten the man for a reason.
God bless.
For some reason, when we got there, we had to go through all the security again and we had to find our luggage and take it to our next flight ourselves. A lot happened in that short amount of time we were there, and I mostly remember feeling rushed and confused. We didn't even have time to grab dinner, so I bought a lunchable and ate it on the flight before I slept restlessly the rest of the way home.
But when we first got to Miami, I remember having to stand in a very, very long line, one of those winding back-and-forth lines that they have at amusement parks. I guess this was a way of "checking in" to the United States (customs?), because they looked at our Passports and everything. It was a constantly moving line, but it seemed to take forever to get through. A woman working there stood in the middle of it all and yelled at you if you weren't "keeping up" with the person in front of you or walking fast enough. Everyone looked grumpy, tired, miserable. What a warm welcome back to the States, right?!
A short distance in front of us was a man carrying a guitar. Because of the back-and-forth nature of the line, we would frequently pass him, then pass him again the other way, etc. When I say he was carrying a guitar, I don't mean he was hauling a case around. I mean he was playing it. Skilled noodles that he would repeat over and over. He did not seem to be trying; he was clearly talented, but not showing off either. He had a serene smile on his face; wavy silver hair tied back in a long ponytail; small hoop earrings in each ear; tanned, aging skin; and light blue, lively eyes. I don't remember what he wore, but I remember he looked a bit unconventional. He had a healthy, lean build and was not very tall.
I loved it. I loved listening to him, hearing that whisper of beautiful music coming from his tender, masterful fingers in the midst of the bustle and noise of everyone else. He strolled along, and when the woman yelled at him to keep up, to walk at a clipper pace, he just directed his gentle smile at her and nodded slightly. He completely ignored her commands and continued to walk at the pace he desired.
At the end of the line, there were a number of different "clerks" you could go up to who would check your passport and customs paperwork. Like a grocery store, there were small lines behind each one of those as well. Of course I chose the line with the man with the guitar at the end of it, and my friend Mark stood with me. Actually I may have followed Mark there, I'm not sure. Unashamed, I watched the man play and looked at him admiringly. When he saw me watching, I smiled at him and he smiled back, then he turned away again, lost in his own world. He visited the clerk and walked away forever. Mark commented to me shortly thereafter that he thought the man smelled bad, but I didn't notice.
I thought a man like the man with the guitar was completely out-of-place in a busy airport, but I relished his calm presence. I wish I could have spoken with him, learned his name, heard his story, but he was just like almost every other stranger I've ever seen: in my life for a moment, gone again. The man with the guitar is only a memory to me, but he is roaming this Earth somewhere, even at this moment. What can I learn from this? I have no idea, but I know I haven't forgotten the man for a reason.
God bless.
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Goodnight, My Someone
I wish I could whisper "I love you" to my future husband. I wish he would hear the echo and know his someday wife is out there in the world, waiting and longing for him, wishing him sweet dreams. He wouldn't hear my name or know my voice. He wouldn't know how far the whisper had travelled. He would just hear it and be comforted, and I would be comforted in knowing that he had heard me.
I have been told by some of my girl friends that I talk about marriage too much, but I don't think that's true. I think we're all thinking about it a lot, and I just am not afraid to admit it and be open about it. I declare that although I am content in my singleness and find fulfillment in my relationship with Christ, I still deeply desire marriage and wonder who, when?
I wish it was an easy process. In this "free" country, I feel pressured by society to fall deeply in love with someone before I even think about commitment to them. What if, sometimes, marriage comes before deep love? But society won't allow for that. Even lust is a better reason to marry than plain decision and commitment, apparently.
I wish I could hold auditions, or simply trust my parents to arrange someone for me (as I know they would find someone quite suitable). I wish I could put out flyers or hold a series of interviews. I wish someone who met my qualifications would just walk into my life, realize I fit his qualifications, and simply get on one knee with little hesitation (but hopefully a lot of prayer). And then it could just be done. I could marry swiftly and effectively. Out of commitment and devotion would grow a deep love between me and whoever.
But right now there's no one. Some potentials, maybe, but no one seems particularly interested in dating me, much less marrying me. I guess that's okay. I know that's fine. I just have a desire to marry young, but youthfulness is starting to run out on me. I feel like my mom set the bar when she married just before her 22nd birthday, but I know that's silly. Of course everyone's story is different.
Lord, prepare my heart for my husband, but teach me how to love you first and foremost.
Goodnight, my Someone. I love you.
God bless.
I have been told by some of my girl friends that I talk about marriage too much, but I don't think that's true. I think we're all thinking about it a lot, and I just am not afraid to admit it and be open about it. I declare that although I am content in my singleness and find fulfillment in my relationship with Christ, I still deeply desire marriage and wonder who, when?
I wish it was an easy process. In this "free" country, I feel pressured by society to fall deeply in love with someone before I even think about commitment to them. What if, sometimes, marriage comes before deep love? But society won't allow for that. Even lust is a better reason to marry than plain decision and commitment, apparently.
I wish I could hold auditions, or simply trust my parents to arrange someone for me (as I know they would find someone quite suitable). I wish I could put out flyers or hold a series of interviews. I wish someone who met my qualifications would just walk into my life, realize I fit his qualifications, and simply get on one knee with little hesitation (but hopefully a lot of prayer). And then it could just be done. I could marry swiftly and effectively. Out of commitment and devotion would grow a deep love between me and whoever.
But right now there's no one. Some potentials, maybe, but no one seems particularly interested in dating me, much less marrying me. I guess that's okay. I know that's fine. I just have a desire to marry young, but youthfulness is starting to run out on me. I feel like my mom set the bar when she married just before her 22nd birthday, but I know that's silly. Of course everyone's story is different.
Lord, prepare my heart for my husband, but teach me how to love you first and foremost.
Goodnight, my Someone. I love you.
God bless.
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