By definition, we put our attention and get our energy from spending time with our inner world of ideas and images. It doesn't automatically mean we're shy, it doesn't automatically mean we're anti-social, and it doesn't automatically mean we are less important and should become extrovert converts. Everybody spends some time extroverting and some time introverting. The Myers-Briggs personality type measures tendencies or preferences, not trait, ability or character. And in the world of discussing personality types, I feel like we introverts end up defending ourselves and our behaviors.
It does not, however, give us the excuse to prevent us from being vulnerable with others.
In fact, because we spend so much time in our heads, I believe it is necessary to share our honest thoughts and feelings with others.
Now, I'm not saying we introverts should conform to be more like extroverts. I'm not suggesting we should change our restorative process or spend less time thinking or should try externally processing instead of internally processing. I'm suggesting that we may be tempted more often than not to use our introverted personality type to keep our burdens to ourselves, stunt the growth of certain relationships in our lives and therefore isolate ourselves. We may be tempted to exclude ourselves from experiencing true love and community.
Most of the time I think it stems from insecurities and fears. The world of our own mind is closely connected to our hearts and therefore our thoughts and feelings are extremely precious to us. We're scared that people will not handle our thoughts and feelings as sacredly as we do. We're anxious that people will judge us. So we find that in order to share those thoughts and feelings openly with someone, it needs to be someone we can trust, takes us seriously, and listens carefully.
Sometimes we're just afraid to share our thoughts or feelings out loud because saying them out loud - especially for anyone else's ears to hear - will make the thought or feeling real. Almost tangible, even. They're not just words because they carry something precious to us, and when we share them they're out in the world and we can't take it back.
I actually think sometimes we believe that sharing our thoughts and feelings (depending on what they are) will be a lose-lose situation for us: we're afraid we'll be wrong and we're afraid we'll be right. For example, in high school I had a hard time admitting to anyone that I was stressed out, didn't have everything together and often messed up because if I did, I was afraid I would be right; that I was stressed out, I didn't have everything together and often messed up. And therefore, I was afraid I would be wrong; wrong to believe that I could live up to being the little ray of sunshine that everyone could rely on and that I could be this diligent, responsible, righteous superwoman all the time, everyday. It would lead to an experience of humility and shame.
However, my dear introverted friends, there is freedom and hope we also miss out on if we keep these things to ourselves. Sometimes the things that whirl around in our heads aren't based on God's biblical truths and cannot be dismantled by our own doing. And sometimes we won't even know that we're perpetuating a false belief unless we share it with others. Unfortunately, reading minds was not one of the ways God created us to communicate with one another.
Take a chance on our dear extroverted friends. We spend a lot of time defending ourselves as introverts and not appreciating or celebrating our differences. Being extroverted doesn't automatically mean they enjoy hearing themselves talk, or aren't good listeners. In fact, I think they're sometimes the best ones to share your thoughts and feelings with even if they're not fully baked because they're very understanding of not needing every word to come out of your mouth to be exactly what you're trying to say or what you really think. Sharing those half-baked thoughts and feelings can be stepping stones to getting to where you're really trying to go.
So what I'm saying is, I understand the need for space and time to think and process (oh believe me, I know). But what I'm suggesting is that we need to try sharing during and after that process with those we share life with about what we've been mulling over so that others may receive the opportunity to serve you well and you can have the opportunity to experience a connection with others and God that we all need.
It may not always happen, and sometimes we may get hurt, but if you close the door to that risk of pain you also close the door to that chance of the freedom and joy you can gain with love.
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Conflict and confrontation connections.
I used to despise conflict and dread confrontation. I'd avoid them like the plague. I'd do what it takes to keep the peace, even if it means unhealthily sweeping things under the rug and just absorbing my own disagreement. If denying my own feelings or opinions would prevent conflicts from arising, I'll keep them to myself to keep the other person(s) happy.
Now, this is something I've known about myself for a while. It goes along with the idea that I used to be a lot more fearless when I was younger and how I grew to become more cautious over the years. When I was younger I'd push my boundaries a bit and take a few more risks. But I'd oftentimes learn that the consequences of doing that frequently led to some form of pain or punishment: emotional, mental, social, or physical.
So in my relationships with authorities, families, and especially friends, I wasn't a big fan of the consequences of conflicts because it often led to hurt feelings, yelling/arguments, misunderstanding, unhappiness. I dealt with it by learning that if I did what people told me to do, if I denied vocalizing things that would push back against another person or authority, I wouldn't put myself in a conflict situation where I could ultimately face the wrath of emotional pain or punishment.
You could also throw in the facets of my personality that like things black and white, distaste of the "grey" areas, my perfectionism disposition, and my Asian-American tendencies of passive-aggressiveness, respecting elders/authorities, and avoiding shame, and you've got a whole slew of other factors of why I tend to avoid conflicts.
But to sum it up - I tend avoid any kind of conflict to ultimately protect myself.
Yes, avoiding conflict can be a very selfish thing. You ignore or put yourself above the other person's needs or the relationship's needs, and serve yourself instead. And friends, that is definitely not how we love one another.
Thankfully, during my many moments of introspection, along with good friends and family in my life who love me, I've become aware of this pattern of mine. And becoming aware of it also helps me do two things: 1) get to the root of why I respond the way I do, and 2) see the flaws or destructiveness to myself and to others I have relationships with. And after becoming aware of myself, I can focus on ways I can change or be aware and prepare others for future situations.
One thing I've had to learn (often the hard way) is that conflict is not a bad thing. In fact, it can be a very healthy part of life and any relationship you have with anyone.
I once heard an analogy of how having conflict is like putting a couple of rocks into a rock tumbler. You throw them in and as the canister spins, the rocks collide and rub against each other so that after some time, when you take them out, they're shiny and smooth and really pretty.
Conflicts will shape us by how we choose to handle them when they inevitably arise. We can choose to engage or we can choose to hop out of the rock tumbler. Yeah, you'd be the same rock you've always been, strong and safe from harm's way, but do you really want to bury what God has given you? With God's love for us we have a chance to dig under our tough skin and let others see the real us. As messy as the real us may be, there's something beautiful about smoothing off those edges.
So if there's one reason why I'm thankful I've been learning this already is that it has indeed been preparing me for marriage. Ladies and gents, I am fully convinced (even as I am not married yet) that if I had not been learning how to deal with conflicts in my relationships with others (friends, family, random people, etc.), I would not be ready to get married...to anyone! Think about it - I'm pretty much guaranteed to have conflicts with Nathan for the rest of my life. We're going to be each other's faces all the time because we're melding together our lives. So if I can't learn to handle conflicts well with my friends and family, what makes me think I can handle conflicts well with my husband?
Learning to face conflicts and undergo confrontation is an ongoing process. It's so easy for me to dance around than confront what could be the cold, hard truth with myself or with others. Sometimes I fall back into the habit of avoiding it. But I definitely see the importance of both and see the dangers of what could/would happen if they don't happen. And because of that, I am more inclined and willing to go through the tension and uncomfortable feelings for the sake of the relationship and the other person than I would have been in the past.
By this all men will know that you are my disciples - if you love one another. --John 13:35
Now, this is something I've known about myself for a while. It goes along with the idea that I used to be a lot more fearless when I was younger and how I grew to become more cautious over the years. When I was younger I'd push my boundaries a bit and take a few more risks. But I'd oftentimes learn that the consequences of doing that frequently led to some form of pain or punishment: emotional, mental, social, or physical.
So in my relationships with authorities, families, and especially friends, I wasn't a big fan of the consequences of conflicts because it often led to hurt feelings, yelling/arguments, misunderstanding, unhappiness. I dealt with it by learning that if I did what people told me to do, if I denied vocalizing things that would push back against another person or authority, I wouldn't put myself in a conflict situation where I could ultimately face the wrath of emotional pain or punishment.
You could also throw in the facets of my personality that like things black and white, distaste of the "grey" areas, my perfectionism disposition, and my Asian-American tendencies of passive-aggressiveness, respecting elders/authorities, and avoiding shame, and you've got a whole slew of other factors of why I tend to avoid conflicts.
But to sum it up - I tend avoid any kind of conflict to ultimately protect myself.
Yes, avoiding conflict can be a very selfish thing. You ignore or put yourself above the other person's needs or the relationship's needs, and serve yourself instead. And friends, that is definitely not how we love one another.
Thankfully, during my many moments of introspection, along with good friends and family in my life who love me, I've become aware of this pattern of mine. And becoming aware of it also helps me do two things: 1) get to the root of why I respond the way I do, and 2) see the flaws or destructiveness to myself and to others I have relationships with. And after becoming aware of myself, I can focus on ways I can change or be aware and prepare others for future situations.
One thing I've had to learn (often the hard way) is that conflict is not a bad thing. In fact, it can be a very healthy part of life and any relationship you have with anyone.
Conflicts will shape us by how we choose to handle them when they inevitably arise. We can choose to engage or we can choose to hop out of the rock tumbler. Yeah, you'd be the same rock you've always been, strong and safe from harm's way, but do you really want to bury what God has given you? With God's love for us we have a chance to dig under our tough skin and let others see the real us. As messy as the real us may be, there's something beautiful about smoothing off those edges.
So if there's one reason why I'm thankful I've been learning this already is that it has indeed been preparing me for marriage. Ladies and gents, I am fully convinced (even as I am not married yet) that if I had not been learning how to deal with conflicts in my relationships with others (friends, family, random people, etc.), I would not be ready to get married...to anyone! Think about it - I'm pretty much guaranteed to have conflicts with Nathan for the rest of my life. We're going to be each other's faces all the time because we're melding together our lives. So if I can't learn to handle conflicts well with my friends and family, what makes me think I can handle conflicts well with my husband?
Learning to face conflicts and undergo confrontation is an ongoing process. It's so easy for me to dance around than confront what could be the cold, hard truth with myself or with others. Sometimes I fall back into the habit of avoiding it. But I definitely see the importance of both and see the dangers of what could/would happen if they don't happen. And because of that, I am more inclined and willing to go through the tension and uncomfortable feelings for the sake of the relationship and the other person than I would have been in the past.
By this all men will know that you are my disciples - if you love one another. --John 13:35
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Mild melancholy.
On Sunday evening I came home to an extremely messy apartment that would normally stress me out, but instead I rolled up my sleeves and was excited to get started. There were a number of reasons for this: one being that it was a project I could start, work hard on, see to completion and delight in the fruits of my labor; while the other being that I was in a funky state of mind since the weekend and didn't know why or what had caused it. I was ready to clean up whatever mess my brain and heart had accumulated from the external stimuli of the weekend.
Something on Saturday night acted like a straw that broke this camel's back. I realized it wasn't really the content or events of the end of the year banquet itself that I attended that spurred this on, but rather a question that Pam Lee had posed to me in a conversation we were having. She explained some of her plans for the future and asked me how I've been dealing with moving away from family and friends and the realities of them moving on with their lives without me (sort of). In the moment she asked, it didn't really bring anything new to light - I had been mentally aware that leaving community behind was going to be my reality and is simply a part of life. But it wasn't until later on that night as I was recalling that moment when I realized how much I needed to look in the mirror and face the reality of what I really felt. In what seemed like a flash of a moment, I was overwhelmed with a sense of sadness but didn't really understand where this was all coming from.
So strangely enough, my attempt to internally process during my cleaning endeavors was not very helpful. I focused, I cleaned, I reviewed, but couldn't really figure out anything significant. But then again, now that I think about it, I don't think I was actually looking very hard.
My internal diagnoses weren't really getting me anywhere beyond mixed feelings of sadness and I was still in this sad daze on Monday, so it was good to just talk to someone...which ended up being Nathan. Talking about it helped me not just identify a little bit of what I've been feeling, but helped tie those feelings in with the patterns I've been experiencing all year, particularly with my overall temptation to feel like a failure and be full of regret.
It wasn't just that I was going to miss some key people in my life - it was this sense of not having closure and not having time to make it happen. It's as if I was reading a sentence at the bottom of the page of a book, turning the page expecting to finish the sentence, only to find that the page is blank. That's how I feel about these last few weeks in Binghamton. There are still tasks to complete, and it didn't seem to be prime time for creating closure.
I've been feeling helpless, useless, sometimes frustrated with myself and sometimes frustrated with others. I'm stuck in limbo, floating around until something hits me.
But I started this post a few days ago and things seemed to be turning around a little bit. Now that I've identified this feeling of lack of closure, I can focus on trying to come up with ways I need to create that closure for myself. As I share my thoughts and feelings with others they've helped remind me that it's okay to make mistakes, it's not my job to "fix" everybody and everything, and that the weight of that responsibility falls on the shoulders of our Lord Jesus Christ. I am reminded of that freedom I have in Christ and how I can trust the One who loves the people in my community more than I do.
Something on Saturday night acted like a straw that broke this camel's back. I realized it wasn't really the content or events of the end of the year banquet itself that I attended that spurred this on, but rather a question that Pam Lee had posed to me in a conversation we were having. She explained some of her plans for the future and asked me how I've been dealing with moving away from family and friends and the realities of them moving on with their lives without me (sort of). In the moment she asked, it didn't really bring anything new to light - I had been mentally aware that leaving community behind was going to be my reality and is simply a part of life. But it wasn't until later on that night as I was recalling that moment when I realized how much I needed to look in the mirror and face the reality of what I really felt. In what seemed like a flash of a moment, I was overwhelmed with a sense of sadness but didn't really understand where this was all coming from.
So strangely enough, my attempt to internally process during my cleaning endeavors was not very helpful. I focused, I cleaned, I reviewed, but couldn't really figure out anything significant. But then again, now that I think about it, I don't think I was actually looking very hard.
My internal diagnoses weren't really getting me anywhere beyond mixed feelings of sadness and I was still in this sad daze on Monday, so it was good to just talk to someone...which ended up being Nathan. Talking about it helped me not just identify a little bit of what I've been feeling, but helped tie those feelings in with the patterns I've been experiencing all year, particularly with my overall temptation to feel like a failure and be full of regret.
It wasn't just that I was going to miss some key people in my life - it was this sense of not having closure and not having time to make it happen. It's as if I was reading a sentence at the bottom of the page of a book, turning the page expecting to finish the sentence, only to find that the page is blank. That's how I feel about these last few weeks in Binghamton. There are still tasks to complete, and it didn't seem to be prime time for creating closure.
I've been feeling helpless, useless, sometimes frustrated with myself and sometimes frustrated with others. I'm stuck in limbo, floating around until something hits me.
But I started this post a few days ago and things seemed to be turning around a little bit. Now that I've identified this feeling of lack of closure, I can focus on trying to come up with ways I need to create that closure for myself. As I share my thoughts and feelings with others they've helped remind me that it's okay to make mistakes, it's not my job to "fix" everybody and everything, and that the weight of that responsibility falls on the shoulders of our Lord Jesus Christ. I am reminded of that freedom I have in Christ and how I can trust the One who loves the people in my community more than I do.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
My carpe diem disposition (Part Two).
Here are some of the ways this disposition plays out.
So at first this may sound a little morbid, but I actively try to be keenly aware that I may die today or tomorrow...in as healthy a way as I possibly can with the Spirit's guidance. In many ways (though not always) I let it shape my decisions, my attitudes, and how I treat other people. And like all disciplines, it's a process of progress that starts somewhere.
Sometimes when I get into a car (especially as a driver), or onto a plane, or cross a street, or walk into a building, or have a conversation with people, I ask myself, "If I were to die in an accident, or someone attacked me, or whatever natural circumstances happened that I would die right now/today/tomorrow, would I be able to stand before God and that to the best of my knowledge and control, say to Him that I have been obedient and faithful? Would I be satisfied with the general direction of my life in big-picture ways and the way I'm responding in day-to-day situations?"*
It doesn't mean I let worry, anxiety, or fear of dying take over me in a way that drives me to a kind of behavior that does everything in my power to avoid the chance of death (i.e. staying home all the time instead of going out, not learning to drive, not traveling). Nor does it mean I push hard to live a life of ultimate dreams and perfection every single day because I'm messed up, people are messed up, and the world is messed up. I think both of those mentalities come from a sense of unreasonable pride and control that dismisses trust in God's sovereignty or the depth of God's grace.
There isn't a higher standard to live by but rather a different perspective to live by - I don't live as though I've got all the time in the world or that I have to have complete control over everyone and everything. I have the freedom to get angry or upset or frustrated or stressed at someone or some situation, but I train myself to keep in mind the brevity of life, which reminds me not to develop bitterness in my heart, to address those conflicts (as small or large as they may be) without putting it off or avoiding them, and to extend and receive forgiveness and love.
And one more thing I've been reminded of recently that compounds this disposition is that as Christians, we are called to live faithfully, not "successfully" to Him. We are not defined by our achievements or failures. God's love, grace and mercy are not earned or changed by our efforts or what we produce.
Greg Jao came to speak a few weeks ago and he posed the question, "Would you rather your daughter live scared or scarred?" And though I grew up in an environment and have a personality that is predisposed to live a scared life for myself and for my loved ones, I am choosing to live a life that may be scarred from the falls of taking risks. It's not easy and I don't always joyfully choose it, but with God's help I desire to make the most of the opportunity I've been given to live another day.
*Footnote: I don't really know how to phrase this question well. On the one hand, I don't want to say, "Would I be satisfied with the way I lived out my life?" because I knew that I am an imperfect being living in an imperfect world I would never be fully satisfied with the way I lived out my life. On the other hand I also don't want to say, "Would I be satisfied with the way I was striving to live out my life?" because it gives the sense that I was only trying or dreaming but not really acting upon those things as if they were or could be the reality. At the same time, there's also this complicated concept of "control" and how much control I have on my life and God has on my life in big things and small things, and where all those unknown factors come into play. So really, that question is somewhere in the middle. I just don't know how to phrase it well.
So at first this may sound a little morbid, but I actively try to be keenly aware that I may die today or tomorrow...in as healthy a way as I possibly can with the Spirit's guidance. In many ways (though not always) I let it shape my decisions, my attitudes, and how I treat other people. And like all disciplines, it's a process of progress that starts somewhere.
Sometimes when I get into a car (especially as a driver), or onto a plane, or cross a street, or walk into a building, or have a conversation with people, I ask myself, "If I were to die in an accident, or someone attacked me, or whatever natural circumstances happened that I would die right now/today/tomorrow, would I be able to stand before God and that to the best of my knowledge and control, say to Him that I have been obedient and faithful? Would I be satisfied with the general direction of my life in big-picture ways and the way I'm responding in day-to-day situations?"*
It doesn't mean I let worry, anxiety, or fear of dying take over me in a way that drives me to a kind of behavior that does everything in my power to avoid the chance of death (i.e. staying home all the time instead of going out, not learning to drive, not traveling). Nor does it mean I push hard to live a life of ultimate dreams and perfection every single day because I'm messed up, people are messed up, and the world is messed up. I think both of those mentalities come from a sense of unreasonable pride and control that dismisses trust in God's sovereignty or the depth of God's grace.
There isn't a higher standard to live by but rather a different perspective to live by - I don't live as though I've got all the time in the world or that I have to have complete control over everyone and everything. I have the freedom to get angry or upset or frustrated or stressed at someone or some situation, but I train myself to keep in mind the brevity of life, which reminds me not to develop bitterness in my heart, to address those conflicts (as small or large as they may be) without putting it off or avoiding them, and to extend and receive forgiveness and love.
And one more thing I've been reminded of recently that compounds this disposition is that as Christians, we are called to live faithfully, not "successfully" to Him. We are not defined by our achievements or failures. God's love, grace and mercy are not earned or changed by our efforts or what we produce.
Greg Jao came to speak a few weeks ago and he posed the question, "Would you rather your daughter live scared or scarred?" And though I grew up in an environment and have a personality that is predisposed to live a scared life for myself and for my loved ones, I am choosing to live a life that may be scarred from the falls of taking risks. It's not easy and I don't always joyfully choose it, but with God's help I desire to make the most of the opportunity I've been given to live another day.
My carpe diem disposition (Part One).
So here it is:
Why should we have to wait for tragedy to strike too close to home before we're driven to live the life we would live if it was our last day on earth?
I've read enough of the Bible, have seen enough movies and tv shows and heard enough stories from strangers, friends, and watching or reading the news to know that life is short. As someone not directly connected to those stories or situations, we may respond with a moment of shock or horror, but I think to a certain extent we've become desensitized to this reality - especially for those of us, like myself, who tend to be pretty removed from these situations.
I don't know what it feels like to lose a loved one. I can guess, I can imagine, I can try, but I honestly cannot deeply identify. Emotionally I've lost some dear friends whose friendships I've cared deeply about, but it's a very different kind of experience. In fact, the worst thing I could probably say to someone who lost a loved one is to say, "I totally understand," because that's a lie, and more often than not (though I can't assume everyone) people, especially if they're in a vulnerable and sensitive situations, do not appreciate being lied to.
Now, I'm not as well-read of a writer as people think I am (because of the assumptions associated with being a previous English major with a Creative Writing concentration and my general enjoyment of reading), and I'm not chock full of a ton of life experiences, but from my general (very general, I must emphasize) sense of the world, death changes the lives of those he or she had been connected to. Whether people's lives were touched negatively or positively (and sometimes neutrally), they are changed when someone who was connected (even if only by a thread) their life is suddenly gone.
Often a basic storyline provides the sense that at first glance, death smothers the chance of hope. It's often why I believe there's a sense of regret or guilt or sadness or anger from the one(s) still living - because they weren't satisfied with the way things were and now there is absolutely no chance for it to change.
But then the journey towards the climax and resolution of the story begins to unfold the truth that the character somehow does change - it may be a positive change or negative change, big or small, but it happens - and it happens in a way that makes one wonder if it would have happened if that death had not taken place.
The inspiring stories inspire us because of the positive impact they have and positive change they bring as a result of someone's life and death. For some it is a life-changing inspiration, but for many of us it's a short boost of bliss to get us through another day.
So I've wrestled with this before and thought, "Well, I'm someone who keeps jumping on the bandwagon of bliss and then jumps off when life gets tough or the daily grind makes me forget. Would my life look different if I knew I or someone I loved dearly was going to die today or tomorrow? Heck yes. My life would probably look better, in fact."
And then I'd ask myself, "Well, why should I have to wait until I or someone I care about comes close to death before I am driven to live the life I believe I want/should/need to live?" It seemed like to me, the fact of the reality is that we come close to death everyday. It's actually a miracle we get to wake up the next morning.
I heard this once (though I think worded a little differently): we often ask God why people had to die, but we should really be praising God for His mercy and grace to let us live! Think about these familiar lyrics: Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me! God is sovereign - He ultimately decides what to give and take away.
This is why uncovering my duplicity became so important to me and why I desire (though it doesn't always play out) to live an authentic life full of integrity and risks worthy to be taken. In order to fight the disparity of saying I believe something and then not acting upon it, I've slowly been disciplining myself to undergo a lifestyle that reflects the life I would pursue if I had very little time left. That discipline is why I wrestle with moving past my fears and strive, as difficult as it may be, not to be paralyzed by them.
Why should we have to wait for tragedy to strike too close to home before we're driven to live the life we would live if it was our last day on earth?
I've read enough of the Bible, have seen enough movies and tv shows and heard enough stories from strangers, friends, and watching or reading the news to know that life is short. As someone not directly connected to those stories or situations, we may respond with a moment of shock or horror, but I think to a certain extent we've become desensitized to this reality - especially for those of us, like myself, who tend to be pretty removed from these situations.
I don't know what it feels like to lose a loved one. I can guess, I can imagine, I can try, but I honestly cannot deeply identify. Emotionally I've lost some dear friends whose friendships I've cared deeply about, but it's a very different kind of experience. In fact, the worst thing I could probably say to someone who lost a loved one is to say, "I totally understand," because that's a lie, and more often than not (though I can't assume everyone) people, especially if they're in a vulnerable and sensitive situations, do not appreciate being lied to.
Now, I'm not as well-read of a writer as people think I am (because of the assumptions associated with being a previous English major with a Creative Writing concentration and my general enjoyment of reading), and I'm not chock full of a ton of life experiences, but from my general (very general, I must emphasize) sense of the world, death changes the lives of those he or she had been connected to. Whether people's lives were touched negatively or positively (and sometimes neutrally), they are changed when someone who was connected (even if only by a thread) their life is suddenly gone.
Often a basic storyline provides the sense that at first glance, death smothers the chance of hope. It's often why I believe there's a sense of regret or guilt or sadness or anger from the one(s) still living - because they weren't satisfied with the way things were and now there is absolutely no chance for it to change.
But then the journey towards the climax and resolution of the story begins to unfold the truth that the character somehow does change - it may be a positive change or negative change, big or small, but it happens - and it happens in a way that makes one wonder if it would have happened if that death had not taken place.
The inspiring stories inspire us because of the positive impact they have and positive change they bring as a result of someone's life and death. For some it is a life-changing inspiration, but for many of us it's a short boost of bliss to get us through another day.
So I've wrestled with this before and thought, "Well, I'm someone who keeps jumping on the bandwagon of bliss and then jumps off when life gets tough or the daily grind makes me forget. Would my life look different if I knew I or someone I loved dearly was going to die today or tomorrow? Heck yes. My life would probably look better, in fact."
And then I'd ask myself, "Well, why should I have to wait until I or someone I care about comes close to death before I am driven to live the life I believe I want/should/need to live?" It seemed like to me, the fact of the reality is that we come close to death everyday. It's actually a miracle we get to wake up the next morning.
I heard this once (though I think worded a little differently): we often ask God why people had to die, but we should really be praising God for His mercy and grace to let us live! Think about these familiar lyrics: Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me! God is sovereign - He ultimately decides what to give and take away.
This is why uncovering my duplicity became so important to me and why I desire (though it doesn't always play out) to live an authentic life full of integrity and risks worthy to be taken. In order to fight the disparity of saying I believe something and then not acting upon it, I've slowly been disciplining myself to undergo a lifestyle that reflects the life I would pursue if I had very little time left. That discipline is why I wrestle with moving past my fears and strive, as difficult as it may be, not to be paralyzed by them.
I've shown this in a previous blog post (a LONG time ago), but I thought it was applicable enough to this particular post.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Uncovering my duplicity.
In high school, I was tired. I had emotionally stretched myself so much that my rubber band life seemed to snap a sigh of relief as I graduated from high school and entered college. I was physically tired, tired of working so hard to maintain and develop relationships, tired of leading other people who seemed willing to follow me until things got hard as if they didn't seem to desire change as much as I did.
But at some point (more like a long process) after graduating and as I entered college, I began to realize that essentially I was tired of living a double life: in many ways the person I was when I interacted with people was not the same person I was when I was by myself. It wasn't a drastic difference, as if I was pulling a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. My outward persona said to the world that I could juggle a multitude of tasks and responsibilities because I was strong; my mentality around others told me that crying, saying "no," or admitting that I couldn't handle it all were signs of weakness. On the other hand, my emotion and perspective of my heart said: I can't possibly do everything; even if I shared my pain with others, there are others who are actually going through worse things than me, so my problems are less important or valid and people are counting on me to encourage them, be "good" and do the right thing all the time; I'm so tired...I'm so, so tired; why doesn't anyone reach out to me or care enough about me to check in with me and see how I'm doing?
God led me through a process around that time that helped me begin to see that I was my own problem. I also realized voices from who knows where (society? the Enemy? culture?) in my head were feeding me lies and I was consuming them like popcorn during a movie. My eyes began to see that I wasn't living a life full of integrity, and the problem wasn't that people didn't care about me. Of course people cared about me. I had just set some unrealistic expectations that they were going to recognize and rescue me from every moment of weakness or pain. I expected those close to me to meet my every need.
I also began to realize that I was not only setting standards that were too high for any human being, but I was actually closing all the doors of opportunities to experience true fellowship that I complained in my head so much about not having.
How was I doing this? By not sharing with others my weaknesses or being vulnerable with others, I was isolating myself from others and not truly loving others.
Unconditional love is risky - it means you're going to put yourself out there for another person, even if that person doesn't love you back or respond the way you want them to. So if I wasn't being honest with sharing my burdens, my fears, my pain, or my struggles with others because I was afraid they would see me differently or not give me the support I needed or dismiss/reject my feelings, then I wasn't really unconditionally loving them. I was prideful for thinking I can/should handle my burdens on my own, prideful for assuming there was no chance they would love me back, and was loving conditionally because my decision to hold back was based on the outcome of the other person's response.
And people can't respond to what they don't know. How could I expect people to love me in the ways I needed/wanted to be loved if I didn't share with them what was going on with me? Did I really just assume everyone could read my mind and my heart and understand my exact state of being through my facial expressions?
I get it - I'd been hurt so many times when I did take the risk to put myself out there and be honest with people, so I know after many tries it's difficult to keep doing it. But I began to make the connection that because I am a daughter of Christ who is so beautifully and wonderfully made, my security, hope, and identity rest in Him and not in other people. He is the reason why we can keep taking those risks and putting ourselves out there. He restores our soul; He heals our wounds; He has already paid the price.
I began to desire to live a life of genuine integrity and simplicity - not just in momentary decisions but as woven throughout my entire lifestyle that promoted these in such a way that who I was with other people (whether they're friends, family, or strangers) would be true to who I am when I was alone. I realized I knew a lot of information and knowledge in my head and told people I believed certain things about life but didn't actually feel them or believe them in my heart. My head and my heart were misaligned.
Obviously at this point I knew my frustration with not being able to change people stemmed from my frustration with not being in control of everything. I also knew that I couldn't force people to change but that I needed to change myself. I needed to submit myself to Christ...every day.
I rehash some of these things as a summary of posts from a long time ago because these were the processes that set the stage for my "carpe diem" disposition. Stay tuned for another post on that.
But at some point (more like a long process) after graduating and as I entered college, I began to realize that essentially I was tired of living a double life: in many ways the person I was when I interacted with people was not the same person I was when I was by myself. It wasn't a drastic difference, as if I was pulling a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. My outward persona said to the world that I could juggle a multitude of tasks and responsibilities because I was strong; my mentality around others told me that crying, saying "no," or admitting that I couldn't handle it all were signs of weakness. On the other hand, my emotion and perspective of my heart said: I can't possibly do everything; even if I shared my pain with others, there are others who are actually going through worse things than me, so my problems are less important or valid and people are counting on me to encourage them, be "good" and do the right thing all the time; I'm so tired...I'm so, so tired; why doesn't anyone reach out to me or care enough about me to check in with me and see how I'm doing?
God led me through a process around that time that helped me begin to see that I was my own problem. I also realized voices from who knows where (society? the Enemy? culture?) in my head were feeding me lies and I was consuming them like popcorn during a movie. My eyes began to see that I wasn't living a life full of integrity, and the problem wasn't that people didn't care about me. Of course people cared about me. I had just set some unrealistic expectations that they were going to recognize and rescue me from every moment of weakness or pain. I expected those close to me to meet my every need.
I also began to realize that I was not only setting standards that were too high for any human being, but I was actually closing all the doors of opportunities to experience true fellowship that I complained in my head so much about not having.
How was I doing this? By not sharing with others my weaknesses or being vulnerable with others, I was isolating myself from others and not truly loving others.
Unconditional love is risky - it means you're going to put yourself out there for another person, even if that person doesn't love you back or respond the way you want them to. So if I wasn't being honest with sharing my burdens, my fears, my pain, or my struggles with others because I was afraid they would see me differently or not give me the support I needed or dismiss/reject my feelings, then I wasn't really unconditionally loving them. I was prideful for thinking I can/should handle my burdens on my own, prideful for assuming there was no chance they would love me back, and was loving conditionally because my decision to hold back was based on the outcome of the other person's response.
And people can't respond to what they don't know. How could I expect people to love me in the ways I needed/wanted to be loved if I didn't share with them what was going on with me? Did I really just assume everyone could read my mind and my heart and understand my exact state of being through my facial expressions?
I get it - I'd been hurt so many times when I did take the risk to put myself out there and be honest with people, so I know after many tries it's difficult to keep doing it. But I began to make the connection that because I am a daughter of Christ who is so beautifully and wonderfully made, my security, hope, and identity rest in Him and not in other people. He is the reason why we can keep taking those risks and putting ourselves out there. He restores our soul; He heals our wounds; He has already paid the price.
I began to desire to live a life of genuine integrity and simplicity - not just in momentary decisions but as woven throughout my entire lifestyle that promoted these in such a way that who I was with other people (whether they're friends, family, or strangers) would be true to who I am when I was alone. I realized I knew a lot of information and knowledge in my head and told people I believed certain things about life but didn't actually feel them or believe them in my heart. My head and my heart were misaligned.
Obviously at this point I knew my frustration with not being able to change people stemmed from my frustration with not being in control of everything. I also knew that I couldn't force people to change but that I needed to change myself. I needed to submit myself to Christ...every day.
I rehash some of these things as a summary of posts from a long time ago because these were the processes that set the stage for my "carpe diem" disposition. Stay tuned for another post on that.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
My wedding planning blues.
"How's the wedding planning going?"
"Well...it's not."
Stick in a "Hi, how are you doing?" before that, repeat about a dozen times, and that summarizes the opening to many of my conversations with people this month.
So what wedding planning do I have to show for this month? Nada. Nothing. Zippo. I maybe gathered some more mailing addresses, rejected or modified or gave the go ahead to some of Michelle's decoration or invitation ideas, and confirmed maybe a couple of people's roles. That's it.
Starting a new position within a new job with a new team starting in a new semester and living a relatively new lifestyle doesn't really leave much emotional or mental space for wedding planning. Thankfully, all the major chunks are being or have been taken care of. It's really just a whole slew of details that haven't been carefully and intentionally patched together.
At first glance as I reflect upon the state of the wedding planning, I think, "Geez, Tammy, I thought you were a details-oriented girl. You know, the whole, 'Hooray for planning events!' and 'All the little things of course can make a huge difference!' ordeal? What in the world happened to that aspect of your personality?"
But when I press in and dig a little deeper, I think I know exactly what's going on.
First of all, I have to say that I'm not one of those girls who has been dreaming and planning my wedding since I was old enough to cut pictures out of a magazine. Yes, I've thought about it and have discussed, based on my observations from other weddings, about what I would or would not do, but I've always been wary of clutching those ideas because I knew my wedding was not going to be all about me - it's about my future fiance and who God made us to be and who He was shaping us to become as one unit. And since growing up I had no idea who that person was going to be, then it didn't seem right to create those kinds of hard and fast plans.
But now, here I am, the time has arrived for me to go full steam ahead with planning details - and I'm stuck pacing at the train station, telling myself I'll simply catch the next train...or the next one. Why? Well, there are a couple of reasons I can think of:
1) I'm very aware that planning details can bring on stress. I already have enough stress in my life without thinking about wedding details. Why would I torture myself that way? It's seems so much easier and less hassle to elope, and if I really believe that the marriage relationship is more important than the wedding day itself, then why should I put so much effort into planning for one single day?
2) The reality of costs and budgets. I'm afraid that once I really start envisioning something and getting excited about what I picture, the financial costs or man-power or time and trouble to make it happen will outweigh the option of chucking the ideas I had quickly grown attached to.
3) I recognize that when I anticipate the possibility that choosing a particular process or path will likely lead to hurt feelings or disappointment, I tend to embrace an apathetic attitude and mentality to prepare myself for the unknown of what is ahead. I'd rather protect my feelings and desires by becoming indifferent than risk disappointment or having to let go of something I care about.
4) Hosting is wonderful - I love it - and as a host you do your best to meet the needs of your guests, making them feel valued and welcomed. And so you think a lot about what they would like or appreciate. But it's also very easy for me to fall into people-pleasing mode: an unhealthy state of denying who I am for the sake of what I believe will make people happy, have a good time, and not hate me.
But as things in life have been slowing down and I'm aware that they will be picking up again very soon, I've been challenging myself to dive into the whirlpool of possibilities and details.
It was becoming particularly evident that I should when I received a pretty big book of wedding planning ideas in the mail from Kenzie's cousin who recently got married. It was a really nice surprise, as well as an encouraging way to say, "Hey, wedding planning can be tough, but guess what? It can be fun, too."
So here's what I'm thinking:
1) The stress is (hopefully) worth going through in order to invite our individual and shared communities to not only witness but actively join us on this journey of marriage.
2) Beautiful, simple and unique wedding ceremonies and receptions can be done on a small budget. The limits of costs can help evaluate how important that detail will be in short-term and long-term, and can be great springboards to coming up with new, creative, and less costly ways to bring out that characteristic in the bigger scheme of things.
3) If I'm trying to love people through this wedding, then having an apathetic mentality is not a choice! The wedding is supposed to reflect who I am, who Nathan is, and how we are growing together, but if I am indifferent and don't care about the decisions being made, then yes, I am protecting myself and my feelings but I am also preventing people from an opportunity to be blessed by the real me that I bring to the table as an individual and as part of a unit.
4) I am a beloved child of God - that is where my identity lies. It will be a temptation to fall into people-pleasing mode, but it will also require conviction from the Holy Spirit and discipline to practice moving away from that temptation. By grounding myself in Scripture and prayer and surrounding myself with people who will remind me of the truth, then I think I'll be well-equipped and headed in a good direction as I dig deeper into planning stuff.
So I'm packing up my things and taking some wedding planning materials with me on my travels for the next week to brainstorm wedding details that will demonstrate my unique identity in Christ and reflect God's unchanging character that is available to us all.
I'm diving in!
"Well...it's not."
Stick in a "Hi, how are you doing?" before that, repeat about a dozen times, and that summarizes the opening to many of my conversations with people this month.
So what wedding planning do I have to show for this month? Nada. Nothing. Zippo. I maybe gathered some more mailing addresses, rejected or modified or gave the go ahead to some of Michelle's decoration or invitation ideas, and confirmed maybe a couple of people's roles. That's it.
Starting a new position within a new job with a new team starting in a new semester and living a relatively new lifestyle doesn't really leave much emotional or mental space for wedding planning. Thankfully, all the major chunks are being or have been taken care of. It's really just a whole slew of details that haven't been carefully and intentionally patched together.
At first glance as I reflect upon the state of the wedding planning, I think, "Geez, Tammy, I thought you were a details-oriented girl. You know, the whole, 'Hooray for planning events!' and 'All the little things of course can make a huge difference!' ordeal? What in the world happened to that aspect of your personality?"
But when I press in and dig a little deeper, I think I know exactly what's going on.
First of all, I have to say that I'm not one of those girls who has been dreaming and planning my wedding since I was old enough to cut pictures out of a magazine. Yes, I've thought about it and have discussed, based on my observations from other weddings, about what I would or would not do, but I've always been wary of clutching those ideas because I knew my wedding was not going to be all about me - it's about my future fiance and who God made us to be and who He was shaping us to become as one unit. And since growing up I had no idea who that person was going to be, then it didn't seem right to create those kinds of hard and fast plans.
But now, here I am, the time has arrived for me to go full steam ahead with planning details - and I'm stuck pacing at the train station, telling myself I'll simply catch the next train...or the next one. Why? Well, there are a couple of reasons I can think of:
1) I'm very aware that planning details can bring on stress. I already have enough stress in my life without thinking about wedding details. Why would I torture myself that way? It's seems so much easier and less hassle to elope, and if I really believe that the marriage relationship is more important than the wedding day itself, then why should I put so much effort into planning for one single day?
2) The reality of costs and budgets. I'm afraid that once I really start envisioning something and getting excited about what I picture, the financial costs or man-power or time and trouble to make it happen will outweigh the option of chucking the ideas I had quickly grown attached to.
3) I recognize that when I anticipate the possibility that choosing a particular process or path will likely lead to hurt feelings or disappointment, I tend to embrace an apathetic attitude and mentality to prepare myself for the unknown of what is ahead. I'd rather protect my feelings and desires by becoming indifferent than risk disappointment or having to let go of something I care about.
4) Hosting is wonderful - I love it - and as a host you do your best to meet the needs of your guests, making them feel valued and welcomed. And so you think a lot about what they would like or appreciate. But it's also very easy for me to fall into people-pleasing mode: an unhealthy state of denying who I am for the sake of what I believe will make people happy, have a good time, and not hate me.
But as things in life have been slowing down and I'm aware that they will be picking up again very soon, I've been challenging myself to dive into the whirlpool of possibilities and details.
It was becoming particularly evident that I should when I received a pretty big book of wedding planning ideas in the mail from Kenzie's cousin who recently got married. It was a really nice surprise, as well as an encouraging way to say, "Hey, wedding planning can be tough, but guess what? It can be fun, too."
So here's what I'm thinking:
1) The stress is (hopefully) worth going through in order to invite our individual and shared communities to not only witness but actively join us on this journey of marriage.
2) Beautiful, simple and unique wedding ceremonies and receptions can be done on a small budget. The limits of costs can help evaluate how important that detail will be in short-term and long-term, and can be great springboards to coming up with new, creative, and less costly ways to bring out that characteristic in the bigger scheme of things.
3) If I'm trying to love people through this wedding, then having an apathetic mentality is not a choice! The wedding is supposed to reflect who I am, who Nathan is, and how we are growing together, but if I am indifferent and don't care about the decisions being made, then yes, I am protecting myself and my feelings but I am also preventing people from an opportunity to be blessed by the real me that I bring to the table as an individual and as part of a unit.
4) I am a beloved child of God - that is where my identity lies. It will be a temptation to fall into people-pleasing mode, but it will also require conviction from the Holy Spirit and discipline to practice moving away from that temptation. By grounding myself in Scripture and prayer and surrounding myself with people who will remind me of the truth, then I think I'll be well-equipped and headed in a good direction as I dig deeper into planning stuff.
So I'm packing up my things and taking some wedding planning materials with me on my travels for the next week to brainstorm wedding details that will demonstrate my unique identity in Christ and reflect God's unchanging character that is available to us all.
I'm diving in!
Thursday, January 19, 2012
My one night of the blues.
I have four godsisters and one godbrother, a godmother and a godfather.
Okay, they're not really my godfamily anymore because I'm over 18 and technically an adult and so if my parents suddenly died (which God has been pretty merciful about so far), I obviously wouldn't need to be handed over to anyone to be looked after. But I still consider them my family even though we don't talk or interact as much as we used to because I know they do still love me and would take care of me if I needed any help. It also helps that our parents still have very strong ties and connections with each other.
I bring them up because I was thinking about some periods of time when most of us did spend a lot of time together. For me I think it's where some of our family kind of dynamics really took root (well, at least me for me, it did - I can't speak on behalf of the rest of my sisters). Every summer when I was younger my family and I would lead a team out to Arizona to the Navajo Reservation to host a Vacation Bible School for the kids and adults in the area. We would go with different teams of people each year, all from different churches in the NYC/LI/NJ area, and there were a number of years where different members of my godfamily would come and join the team.
Since my older sisters and I were so young (elementary/middle school age) at the time, we learned a lot from our godsiblings (but especially my godsisters) who were much older than us. I looked up to them so much. They took care of me, gave me attention (which, as the youngest, I loved, of course), and taught me things I never knew how to do (I think Jess, the oldest, might have taught me how to braid and french braid hair - I'm not quite sure, but I definitely know I asked her to braid my hair a lot during those summers because I liked it so much). I can remember significant moments where I was reprimanded by my godmother (I was so scared of her), and felt embarrassed by my godsiblings when I said something or did something to cause myself to blush or want to run away. Great family stuff. We bonded like there was no tomorrow.
I'm not being sarcastic, I promise. I absolutely loved spending time with them. We were out in Arizona for a good ten days. And so, here's why I'm telling you the truth that I really bonded with them: on the night we'd get back from Arizona (and only during the years that my godsisters were definitely there), after I'd get into bed because I was supposed to go to sleep, I would cry. And believe me, I tried to stop myself. Even though I was little I hated how sensitive I was and didn't like it when I cried, and it seemed embarrassing especially since I shared a room with my two sisters and couldn't really muffle the sound.
I remember being so embarrassed, too, when my parents finally came in and asked what was wrong because they heard me crying from down the hall - only for me to tell them that I missed my godsisters so much after not being around them for several hours. You see, we had returned to NYC before dinnertime, and so I had just seen them several hours prior (do you see why I felt so embarrassed?). I hadn't even gone a full day or even half a day before I started intensely missing them. Their active presence in my daily life for ten straight days had such an impact on me that I couldn't help but feel some kind of vacuum from spending a night without them. Ten days. It was not even two weeks and yet I had such a strong connection to them that it seemed wrong (and completely silly) to suddenly have to depart from them.
Here's why I bring this up, though. That experience came to mind recently because it's as close as it gets (especially as old as I am) to what I experienced last week coming back to my apartment in Binghamton from my mid-west and NYC Christmas adventures.
That's all I have to say.
Okay, they're not really my godfamily anymore because I'm over 18 and technically an adult and so if my parents suddenly died (which God has been pretty merciful about so far), I obviously wouldn't need to be handed over to anyone to be looked after. But I still consider them my family even though we don't talk or interact as much as we used to because I know they do still love me and would take care of me if I needed any help. It also helps that our parents still have very strong ties and connections with each other.
I bring them up because I was thinking about some periods of time when most of us did spend a lot of time together. For me I think it's where some of our family kind of dynamics really took root (well, at least me for me, it did - I can't speak on behalf of the rest of my sisters). Every summer when I was younger my family and I would lead a team out to Arizona to the Navajo Reservation to host a Vacation Bible School for the kids and adults in the area. We would go with different teams of people each year, all from different churches in the NYC/LI/NJ area, and there were a number of years where different members of my godfamily would come and join the team.
Since my older sisters and I were so young (elementary/middle school age) at the time, we learned a lot from our godsiblings (but especially my godsisters) who were much older than us. I looked up to them so much. They took care of me, gave me attention (which, as the youngest, I loved, of course), and taught me things I never knew how to do (I think Jess, the oldest, might have taught me how to braid and french braid hair - I'm not quite sure, but I definitely know I asked her to braid my hair a lot during those summers because I liked it so much). I can remember significant moments where I was reprimanded by my godmother (I was so scared of her), and felt embarrassed by my godsiblings when I said something or did something to cause myself to blush or want to run away. Great family stuff. We bonded like there was no tomorrow.
I'm not being sarcastic, I promise. I absolutely loved spending time with them. We were out in Arizona for a good ten days. And so, here's why I'm telling you the truth that I really bonded with them: on the night we'd get back from Arizona (and only during the years that my godsisters were definitely there), after I'd get into bed because I was supposed to go to sleep, I would cry. And believe me, I tried to stop myself. Even though I was little I hated how sensitive I was and didn't like it when I cried, and it seemed embarrassing especially since I shared a room with my two sisters and couldn't really muffle the sound.
I remember being so embarrassed, too, when my parents finally came in and asked what was wrong because they heard me crying from down the hall - only for me to tell them that I missed my godsisters so much after not being around them for several hours. You see, we had returned to NYC before dinnertime, and so I had just seen them several hours prior (do you see why I felt so embarrassed?). I hadn't even gone a full day or even half a day before I started intensely missing them. Their active presence in my daily life for ten straight days had such an impact on me that I couldn't help but feel some kind of vacuum from spending a night without them. Ten days. It was not even two weeks and yet I had such a strong connection to them that it seemed wrong (and completely silly) to suddenly have to depart from them.
Here's why I bring this up, though. That experience came to mind recently because it's as close as it gets (especially as old as I am) to what I experienced last week coming back to my apartment in Binghamton from my mid-west and NYC Christmas adventures.
That's all I have to say.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Ceiling musings.
This past Sunday was a lovely morning - I appreciated and enjoyed the perspective Pastor Kyle took on Joseph's story in his sermon, and over lunch had the privilege of hearing the story of what God has been doing in Mun Joo's life. She was someone new Sarah Min had met on the church bus that morning, and it was really nice talking with her.
I decided to have a very restful afternoon when I got home to our apartment. It was quiet after Katy came back from church and went to sleep. For the past week I was playing Christmas music almost nonstop, but for that afternoon I thought it would be nice to do some low-key things I really enjoy doing, such as reading or playing guitar.
I pulled out the fair-trade quilt I had asked my aunt for last Christmas and brought my laptop with my current reading, Banker to the Poor: Micro-lending and the battle against world poverty by Muhammad Yunus, to our really comfortable sofa in the living room.
After feeling very productive and relaxed for reading a few chapters, I got very sleepy and did something I haven't done in a long time: I decided to take a short nap.
Soon after I set my alarm and had fallen asleep on the couch, I woke up to some kind of scratching noise. I opened my eyes and started sitting up to figure out where the noise was coming from because it sounded so close by. I looked straight across the room at the front door because it sounded like someone was just outside the door, taping or posting some kind of paper on it.
I was curious as to who it was or what they were doing to our door, but the longer I listened, the less convinced I was that someone was there. At that moment, I looked up and noticed that a huge chunk of the ceiling paint had started hanging down, with a rip that was slowly moving across the width of the ceiling.
I'm not sure if it was because I had just woken up from a nap or not, but I just stared at the rip, somehow trying to reassure my brain that that's exactly what was happening. I think I was a little caught off guard but also didn't really know what to do.
It felt like I must've been in some kind of tv show or movie where the viewers are watching, yelling at the screen, "Why are you just sitting there?! Get out of the way! Do something!" But I wasn't listening because I was in some kind of daze, somewhere in between the fact that I knew what was happening but couldn't really do anything to stop it so all I could do was watch.
Suddenly the rip finished tearing across the ceiling and a good chunk of the paint crumbled to the ground below, taking down a couple of plants with it and leaving a mess behind.
It was weird. Here I was, staring at the ceiling for what felt like forever, fully aware that the paint was ripping and yet I was still shocked when it all came down. You could hear my shock amidst the silence. What a weird response.
It was a loud crash. I half expected Katy to pop open her door and come see what all the commotion was about, but she didn't. I sat there for a good few minutes, thinking about what I should do before I got up, examined the mess, and then went to wake Katy up to tell her what happened.
After Katy gave me our landlord's number and I left a message for our landlord, I carefully cleaned up the mess.
Later on that night after Sarah came home she opted not to watch a movie in the living room because there was still more that looked like it was ready to come down, and last night when Lauren Kirst and I decided to watch a movie there, Sarah suggested we open a couple of umbrellas and hold them over our heads while we watched, just in case something else fell down. Her suggestion reminded me of a scene from Gilmore Girls and made me smile :]
Tonight is another tranquil evening. I ventured back into the living room with my fair-trade quilt, Muhammad Yunus, and a hot cup of creamy, cinnamon and peppermint hot chocolate. I lit some candles but opted to leave the Christmas music off - to fight the common fear of silence, conquer the fragility of stillness, and bask in the joy of God's presence and the soothing process of unpacking some of my thoughts. I'm sitting in the same corner of the couch I sat in just a day ago, staring instead at a partial ceiling exposed to its bare plaster-y flesh in this cold, cold apartment.
The more I stare at the ceiling in this silence, the more it looks like a metaphor of life.
So far, there is one thought and feeling I've accumulated from this gentle evening: realizing how much you miss someone is common but recognizing that it stems from a desire to enjoy their company with you and not from a desire to avoid being lonely - well, it just warms my heart.
Unless that's just the hot chocolate speaking.
I decided to have a very restful afternoon when I got home to our apartment. It was quiet after Katy came back from church and went to sleep. For the past week I was playing Christmas music almost nonstop, but for that afternoon I thought it would be nice to do some low-key things I really enjoy doing, such as reading or playing guitar.
I pulled out the fair-trade quilt I had asked my aunt for last Christmas and brought my laptop with my current reading, Banker to the Poor: Micro-lending and the battle against world poverty by Muhammad Yunus, to our really comfortable sofa in the living room.
After feeling very productive and relaxed for reading a few chapters, I got very sleepy and did something I haven't done in a long time: I decided to take a short nap.
Soon after I set my alarm and had fallen asleep on the couch, I woke up to some kind of scratching noise. I opened my eyes and started sitting up to figure out where the noise was coming from because it sounded so close by. I looked straight across the room at the front door because it sounded like someone was just outside the door, taping or posting some kind of paper on it.
I was curious as to who it was or what they were doing to our door, but the longer I listened, the less convinced I was that someone was there. At that moment, I looked up and noticed that a huge chunk of the ceiling paint had started hanging down, with a rip that was slowly moving across the width of the ceiling.
I'm not sure if it was because I had just woken up from a nap or not, but I just stared at the rip, somehow trying to reassure my brain that that's exactly what was happening. I think I was a little caught off guard but also didn't really know what to do.
It felt like I must've been in some kind of tv show or movie where the viewers are watching, yelling at the screen, "Why are you just sitting there?! Get out of the way! Do something!" But I wasn't listening because I was in some kind of daze, somewhere in between the fact that I knew what was happening but couldn't really do anything to stop it so all I could do was watch.
Suddenly the rip finished tearing across the ceiling and a good chunk of the paint crumbled to the ground below, taking down a couple of plants with it and leaving a mess behind.
It was weird. Here I was, staring at the ceiling for what felt like forever, fully aware that the paint was ripping and yet I was still shocked when it all came down. You could hear my shock amidst the silence. What a weird response.It was a loud crash. I half expected Katy to pop open her door and come see what all the commotion was about, but she didn't. I sat there for a good few minutes, thinking about what I should do before I got up, examined the mess, and then went to wake Katy up to tell her what happened.
After Katy gave me our landlord's number and I left a message for our landlord, I carefully cleaned up the mess.
Later on that night after Sarah came home she opted not to watch a movie in the living room because there was still more that looked like it was ready to come down, and last night when Lauren Kirst and I decided to watch a movie there, Sarah suggested we open a couple of umbrellas and hold them over our heads while we watched, just in case something else fell down. Her suggestion reminded me of a scene from Gilmore Girls and made me smile :]
Tonight is another tranquil evening. I ventured back into the living room with my fair-trade quilt, Muhammad Yunus, and a hot cup of creamy, cinnamon and peppermint hot chocolate. I lit some candles but opted to leave the Christmas music off - to fight the common fear of silence, conquer the fragility of stillness, and bask in the joy of God's presence and the soothing process of unpacking some of my thoughts. I'm sitting in the same corner of the couch I sat in just a day ago, staring instead at a partial ceiling exposed to its bare plaster-y flesh in this cold, cold apartment.The more I stare at the ceiling in this silence, the more it looks like a metaphor of life.
So far, there is one thought and feeling I've accumulated from this gentle evening: realizing how much you miss someone is common but recognizing that it stems from a desire to enjoy their company with you and not from a desire to avoid being lonely - well, it just warms my heart.
Unless that's just the hot chocolate speaking.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Sometimes. Not all the time.
Sometimes the hardest part about loving someone is taking the initiative.
Monday, August 11, 2008
people are particularly frustrating this week.
and you have no idea how mad i wish i could be at everyone. it's frustrating, when the people you think will listen the most will listen, but listen eventually, in their own time. but it's also amazing at how the people you doubted would listen listen full-heartedly and go beyond what you thought was possible.
sometimes caring for someone means pulling teeth from others. you would think everyone would be on the same page when it comes to a common goal.
i want to be mad at certain people, but really, i'm not.
just disappointed.
mostly at myself for having either the wrong expectations or expectations that were too high. but also because i thought some people knew me better. and i thought i knew them better.
i guess not.
well, summer's almost over. pam had a good birthday, she loves her gifts, and i have to babysit for an awesome awesome family that i'm going to miss soooo much when i go back to school.
i'm excited to see everyone back at school, but at the same time there are a lot of relationships here at home that weren't here before that i know i'm going to miss when i leave.
let's just see if i've learned my lesson and will do a better job at watering those relationships to help them grow even though i'm not here.
saving them last time was just short of calling them miracles. and that's just one time too close to call it safe.
sometimes caring for someone means pulling teeth from others. you would think everyone would be on the same page when it comes to a common goal.
i want to be mad at certain people, but really, i'm not.
just disappointed.
mostly at myself for having either the wrong expectations or expectations that were too high. but also because i thought some people knew me better. and i thought i knew them better.
i guess not.
well, summer's almost over. pam had a good birthday, she loves her gifts, and i have to babysit for an awesome awesome family that i'm going to miss soooo much when i go back to school.
i'm excited to see everyone back at school, but at the same time there are a lot of relationships here at home that weren't here before that i know i'm going to miss when i leave.
let's just see if i've learned my lesson and will do a better job at watering those relationships to help them grow even though i'm not here.
saving them last time was just short of calling them miracles. and that's just one time too close to call it safe.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
a post about my other half
i'm sure you can figure out who this post is about :]
it's amazing at how close we've always been ever since we were little, and how much closer we grew even to this day. it's funny how we hit our "rough patch" not in elementary school when i would chase her around the schoolyard, but just this past semester. and look how we've gotten over that huge bump in the road.
i'm writing this post about her because i want to express to you how utterly grateful i am to have her in my life. i think this summer so far has even deepened my relationship with her. every day i am so happy when she comes home from work or wherever. remember that post a while ago about how i felt unproductive and yucky because of it? well, God has used her to bring me to my knees and then bring me to my feet. the other day i rearranged our room a little bit just for the heck of it because i had decided to clean underneath my bed. she didn't tell me to do it, but in a weird unconcious way she encouraged it. she always does that to me.
it's kind of like when someone or something blows past you so fast that even though they're not physically there anymore, the wind that they stirred up by running past you just blows you away. that's her. she blows me away as i get caught up in the wind. and it's usually very good for me because i just stand there :P
she is probably the main reason why i'm having such a good summer. i can't even explain half of it to you because you probably won't even understand it completely.
she keeps me sane but at the same time she understands my insanity.
because she's in my life i don't have to feel lonely.
i can be stupid around her.
i love when she makes me laugh.
i love when i make her laugh.
i can tell even my closest brothers and sisters all the family stuff that goes on, but she actually lives it and experiences it with me. everyday. and that comforts me.
she knows pretty much all of my friends.
i can tell her everything.
she tries to keep me healthy. sometimes. at least, when she doesn't try i just feel guilty anyway.
i love making her proud. and it doesn't take much to do that.
she's my cheerleader. especially when my family has never been a cheerleading kind of family.
she's a whole family rolled into one person, minus a family pet.
she's my buffer, my listener, my angel.
and she's always pointing me in God's direction.
alright, here are some pictures :P
(left picture: a wedding in '96 or '97? right picture: a wedding in '07)
i feel so blessed. hmm, i wonder why that line sounds familiar... ;X
it's amazing at how close we've always been ever since we were little, and how much closer we grew even to this day. it's funny how we hit our "rough patch" not in elementary school when i would chase her around the schoolyard, but just this past semester. and look how we've gotten over that huge bump in the road.
i'm writing this post about her because i want to express to you how utterly grateful i am to have her in my life. i think this summer so far has even deepened my relationship with her. every day i am so happy when she comes home from work or wherever. remember that post a while ago about how i felt unproductive and yucky because of it? well, God has used her to bring me to my knees and then bring me to my feet. the other day i rearranged our room a little bit just for the heck of it because i had decided to clean underneath my bed. she didn't tell me to do it, but in a weird unconcious way she encouraged it. she always does that to me.
it's kind of like when someone or something blows past you so fast that even though they're not physically there anymore, the wind that they stirred up by running past you just blows you away. that's her. she blows me away as i get caught up in the wind. and it's usually very good for me because i just stand there :P
she is probably the main reason why i'm having such a good summer. i can't even explain half of it to you because you probably won't even understand it completely.
she keeps me sane but at the same time she understands my insanity.
because she's in my life i don't have to feel lonely.
i can be stupid around her.
i love when she makes me laugh.
i love when i make her laugh.
i can tell even my closest brothers and sisters all the family stuff that goes on, but she actually lives it and experiences it with me. everyday. and that comforts me.
she knows pretty much all of my friends.
i can tell her everything.
she tries to keep me healthy. sometimes. at least, when she doesn't try i just feel guilty anyway.
i love making her proud. and it doesn't take much to do that.
she's my cheerleader. especially when my family has never been a cheerleading kind of family.
she's a whole family rolled into one person, minus a family pet.
she's my buffer, my listener, my angel.
and she's always pointing me in God's direction.
alright, here are some pictures :P
(left picture: a wedding in '96 or '97? right picture: a wedding in '07)
i feel so blessed. hmm, i wonder why that line sounds familiar... ;X
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Psalm 27
for some reason, dating/boys seems to be coming up a lot recently.
some of my close friends just started new relationships, and Pastor Kyle at Twin Orchards started preaching a series on love, sex, and intimacy from the book of Song of Songs. i was talking to a guy-friend yesterday online and he was saying how he was having some girl trouble and asking me if i had my eye on anyone and that if there was a guy that he would have to go through him before anything is established.
get in line, mister. join the ten million other people who told me they have to be in the screening process. at this rate, i think "the one" will be the only one who survives it.
i think "love is in the air."
but, i am not shaken. if anything, i am constantly being reassured by God in His love and His will that i do not need to be anxious about boys or relationships or my future husband anytime soon.
here, even the psalm i read today for my quiet time reaffirmed that:
Psalm 27
Of David.
whom shall I fear?
The LORD is the stronghold of my life—
of whom shall I be afraid?
2 When evil men advance against me
to devour my flesh,
when my enemies and my foes attack me,
they will stumble and fall.
3 Though an army besiege me,
my heart will not fear;
though war break out against me,
even then will I be confident.
4 One thing I ask of the LORD,
this is what I seek:
that I may dwell in the house of the LORD
all the days of my life,
to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD
and to seek him in his temple.
5 For in the day of trouble
he will keep me safe in his dwelling;
he will hide me in the shelter of his tabernacle
and set me high upon a rock.
6 Then my head will be exalted
above the enemies who surround me;
at his tabernacle will I sacrifice with shouts of joy;
I will sing and make music to the LORD.
7 Hear my voice when I call, O LORD;
be merciful to me and answer me.
8 My heart says of you, "Seek his face!"
Your face, LORD, I will seek.
9 Do not hide your face from me,
do not turn your servant away in anger;
you have been my helper.
Do not reject me or forsake me,
O God my Savior.
10 Though my father and mother forsake me,
the LORD will receive me.
11 Teach me your way, O LORD;
lead me in a straight path
because of my oppressors.
12 Do not turn me over to the desire of my foes,
for false witnesses rise up against me,
breathing out violence.
13 I am still confident of this:
I will see the goodness of the LORD
in the land of the living.
14 Wait for the LORD;
be strong and take heart
and wait for the LORD.
see? how could i ever fear not finding "the one" when God is the stronghold of my life? i am confident that i will see goodness wherever God may lead me, to whomever He may lead me. and i LOVE the last verse because it reminds me to wait and be strong and take heart to wait for God.
and, God & i are working on being the future wife i'm supposed to be for my future husband. it's very exciting :D
it's like, i'm content with myself, but at the same time i'm not settling for the way i am right now. i want to love Jesus more, to be more like him. i want people to see that love pouring out in every aspect of my life.
it's tough. but i'm working on it.
when God reveals to me someone special, i want them to see me genuinely, madly in love with Jesus, just how He is madly in love with me.
and oh, am i starting to fall in love with Jesus. it's a work in progress. i'm getting there.
maybe this is why i feel so funky this semester. love gives you a funky feeling. but really feeling God's love, ohhhhh man. it's beyond funky. it's beyond our imagination :]
if i haven't told you already what the biggest things i've been learning in my life since the start of college, i'll tell you right now. i've been learning to really, truly, genuinely start believing in what i know to be true. putting my heart where my mind is. and oh, is it aligning.
it's so liberating learning everyday to be real to others and to myself.
praise God for His awesome Word, power, and love.
some of my close friends just started new relationships, and Pastor Kyle at Twin Orchards started preaching a series on love, sex, and intimacy from the book of Song of Songs. i was talking to a guy-friend yesterday online and he was saying how he was having some girl trouble and asking me if i had my eye on anyone and that if there was a guy that he would have to go through him before anything is established.
get in line, mister. join the ten million other people who told me they have to be in the screening process. at this rate, i think "the one" will be the only one who survives it.
i think "love is in the air."
but, i am not shaken. if anything, i am constantly being reassured by God in His love and His will that i do not need to be anxious about boys or relationships or my future husband anytime soon.
here, even the psalm i read today for my quiet time reaffirmed that:
Psalm 27
Of David.
1 The LORD is my light and my salvation—
whom shall I fear?
The LORD is the stronghold of my life—
of whom shall I be afraid?
2 When evil men advance against me
to devour my flesh,
when my enemies and my foes attack me,
they will stumble and fall.
3 Though an army besiege me,
my heart will not fear;
though war break out against me,
even then will I be confident.
4 One thing I ask of the LORD,
this is what I seek:
that I may dwell in the house of the LORD
all the days of my life,
to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD
and to seek him in his temple.
5 For in the day of trouble
he will keep me safe in his dwelling;
he will hide me in the shelter of his tabernacle
and set me high upon a rock.
6 Then my head will be exalted
above the enemies who surround me;
at his tabernacle will I sacrifice with shouts of joy;
I will sing and make music to the LORD.
7 Hear my voice when I call, O LORD;
be merciful to me and answer me.
8 My heart says of you, "Seek his face!"
Your face, LORD, I will seek.
9 Do not hide your face from me,
do not turn your servant away in anger;
you have been my helper.
Do not reject me or forsake me,
O God my Savior.
10 Though my father and mother forsake me,
the LORD will receive me.
11 Teach me your way, O LORD;
lead me in a straight path
because of my oppressors.
12 Do not turn me over to the desire of my foes,
for false witnesses rise up against me,
breathing out violence.
13 I am still confident of this:
I will see the goodness of the LORD
in the land of the living.
14 Wait for the LORD;
be strong and take heart
and wait for the LORD.
see? how could i ever fear not finding "the one" when God is the stronghold of my life? i am confident that i will see goodness wherever God may lead me, to whomever He may lead me. and i LOVE the last verse because it reminds me to wait and be strong and take heart to wait for God.
and, God & i are working on being the future wife i'm supposed to be for my future husband. it's very exciting :D
it's like, i'm content with myself, but at the same time i'm not settling for the way i am right now. i want to love Jesus more, to be more like him. i want people to see that love pouring out in every aspect of my life.
it's tough. but i'm working on it.
when God reveals to me someone special, i want them to see me genuinely, madly in love with Jesus, just how He is madly in love with me.
and oh, am i starting to fall in love with Jesus. it's a work in progress. i'm getting there.
maybe this is why i feel so funky this semester. love gives you a funky feeling. but really feeling God's love, ohhhhh man. it's beyond funky. it's beyond our imagination :]
if i haven't told you already what the biggest things i've been learning in my life since the start of college, i'll tell you right now. i've been learning to really, truly, genuinely start believing in what i know to be true. putting my heart where my mind is. and oh, is it aligning.
it's so liberating learning everyday to be real to others and to myself.
praise God for His awesome Word, power, and love.
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