My hunt for a 20-mile march.

I attended a couple of conferences almost back-to-back in the middle of August.  First was the Willow Creek Global Leadership Summit, and the second soon after that was the InterVarsity NY/NJ Regional Staff Conference.  There were a lot of things I immediately gleaned from the prior, but it's been a bit tougher trying to figure out what I've soaked in from the latter.

However, there was something from the staff conference that I've been thinking about recently.

If I remember correctly, Bill Sweeting, our speaker for the conference, quoted something from John C. Maxwell who said, "The toughest person to lead is always yourself" (read about it here).  In the midst of a million things to do, goals to work towards, and feeling like I'm just moving backwards and will never achieve great things or simply do things I like or want to do, I recognize how incredibly undisciplined and faithless (unreliable) I am.  It takes me a long time to do things, especially when it comes to processing things that feel like they're really important or are really important to me.  And a lot of times in the process of pursuing those things, I end up completing the minimum to get by with what I can or it begins to look like a hanging carrot I just cannot physically reach.  

It's probably why I've always felt like I never had any big dreams.  Maybe the reality is I probably don't want anything bad enough to keep at it, or somehow I'm afraid of actually succeeding (isn't this sounding ridiculous and not at the same time?).  Here, take a look at some of the things I could potentially pursue:

Since I was nine years old I've always wanted to write and publish a novel.  It's a big dream, but not impossible.  But over the years I haven't been willing to practice writing.  I haven't written any short stories unless I had a deadline for a creative writing class, I haven't entered any contests, I haven't submitted any pieces for publications or just wrote some chapters or story ideas for fun.  I've been limiting my writing to blog posts.  I don't give my writing the time or space to grow and develop.  It's like any musical pursuits (which, by the way, I also don't really work on at all) - if you want to get better, you need to practice.  You need to make mistakes and learn your craft and cover the basics.

Look at my big dream to own and run a cafe/bakery/bookstore/gift shop/inn/community center combo thing.  You don't see me reading books about small businesses/non-profits, baking or designing greeting cards at every opportunity I can get, or asking questions to those who may have experience in those areas.  I can say, "I want to do that!" all I want, but if I don't actually put anything into motion, it's not going to happen.  I don't have a lot of drive or discipline.  And I'm aware of that.

But I want that to change.

During the Leadership Summit, Jim Collins gave a great talk based on his new book, Great By Choice, which addresses why some companies excel despite chaos.  One of the concepts Collins focuses on is the idea of a "20-mile-march," which encompasses the evidence that successful companies "embrace a paradox of control and noncontrol."  They're disciplined in their commitment (i.e., marching no more and no less than 20 miles) everyday, whether or not the circumstances are beneficial or not.  Collins provides the example of Roald Amundsen and Robert Falcon Scott, two adventurers who were on the quest to be the first to reach the South Pole.  While both explorers experienced the same uncontrollable climate issues, Amundsen "adhered to a regimen of consistent progress, never too far in good weather...yet pressing ahead in nasty weather to stay on pace," while Scott "would sometimes drive his team to exhaustion on good days and then sit in his tent and complain about the weather on bad days."  Amundsen stuck to his 20-mile-march and successfully reached the South Pole.  (Collins explains it a little better his article here)        

And so I've been thinking about I'm the toughest person I'll ever lead, and how if I'm going to leading others on a constant basis, then I need to really learn to lead myself.  And if I'm going to lead myself, I need to accumulate the discipline to really, truly pursue something.  I've also been thinking about what it means to live a good story, which requires wanting something enough to overcome conflicts.  The problem is, I don't know what I really want.

So maybe I should figure out what I really want first, but I can't help but think of some daily 20-mile-march ideas...  

• Write one blog post.
• Memorize one Bible verse.
• Practice guitar/singing for 30 minutes.
• Read a novel for 30 minutes.
• Run x miles (every week?)
• Bake something (every week?)
• Read 5 news articles.
• Write and mail a letter to someone.

I would say, "Feel free to pipe in with your vote/opinion on which one I should pursue or suggest your own," but I guess that's going in the opposite direction of trying to figure out what I want.

Harold and the Purple Crayon.

I like to read.  I'm not a fast reader, an avid reader, or the kind of reader I'd like to be, but I enjoy it.  I have a lot of books I want to read.  I also have a lot of books I believe I need to read.  For example, I am one of the few rare species that has not finished reading the Harry Potter series.  I got up to the middle of book number five,  and decided it was getting a bit boring or too dark or just simply decided I didn't have time to read it right then.  I also need to finish the Chronicles of Narnia series, the Lord of the Rings, a whole bunch of marriage books, and all the books I bought during one of Better World Book's awesome sales.  And then...because I married a nerd, I've inherited all these other books I've always wanted to read or am curious to stick my face in.

So, with this predicament at hand, you can probably see why I would have such a hard time walking into Barnes & Noble to choose a book in celebration of my husband's tradition of buying a book and eating banana split sundaes the day before the first day of school.  I look around and all I see are books I want to read, books I want to buy, and books I highly doubt I'll get a chance to read in the near future.  I don't know  how long I spent walking around the store just reading wonderful book titles, admiring pretty book covers, and then thinking of our stuffed bookshelves back home.  It was quite depressing, actually.

But then, I wandered over to the children's section.  I thought of taking a look around because earlier in the summer I jotted down an idea I wanted to do for taking sabbath where I would go to the children's section of a bookstore and spend hours just reading the books right off the shelves.  Then I came up with a brilliant idea:  what if I picked a children's book to buy instead?  I definitely wouldn't feel guilty about not being able to read it because duh, I could probably read it in a few minutes.  And it would serve other purposes - like having some books available for kids if we decide to do some babysitting or just have little guests over.  And on top of that, I thought it'd be a good investment to start picking up some of my favorite children's books to build a library for my (very) future kids.  No time like the present to invest in the future.

Well as it turns out, picking out one children's book wasn't any easier than picking out a book from the adult sections.  I found some lovely collections of children's books that I'd love to get my hands on, but they were over my budget.  I found a few books I was familiar with, but didn't think it was worth getting this time around or didn't think it'd be a children's book Nathan would necessarily enjoy as much, and I wanted to take his children's book tastes into consideration.  The closest B&N to me and Nathan is pretty small, so I thought it was a small selection that didn't have many children's books I was familiar with.  But after I convened with Nathan for a few minutes and returned to the hunt in the children's section I started hitting the jackpot.  I found book after book of stories I remembered my mom reading to me as a kid, or books I enjoyed reading in elementary school, or some favorites I remember learning about from Reading Rainbow.

It was a tough decision.  Finally, after who knows how long, I picked a book Nathan had mentioned a long time ago that he liked, which I had always heard about but had never read.  As you can guess, it was Crockett Johnson's Harold and the Purple Crayon.  It was perfect.  It was a book I had never read, it was a book I'd probably enjoy, I knew Nathan liked it, and it was a children's book.    

Nathan read the book to me tonight, and I really enjoyed it.  Harold's awesome.  He's got this great purple crayon and does great things with it.  And as I've been thinking about it, there are some things I admire about Harold that I wish I had myself.  You know it's a great children's book when it doesn't just apply to kids but adults can connect with the story, too.

Here are some of the things I noticed about Harold:

1.  He takes time to think.
2.  He's a visionary.  He knows exactly what he wants to see happen.
3.  He decides what he wants to do and goes and does it.
4.  He's not perturbed by mistakes or unseen events.
5.  He's a creative problem-solver.
6.  He acts quickly when it's called for.
7.  He's not afraid to climb hills that turn into mountains.
8.  He's not afraid to keep trying when he doesn't succeed.

I wish I had a purple crayon like Harold.  Maybe if I did I'd be more like him.

Living a good story.

After months of traveling and craziness, Nathan and I are finally here in Rochester to stay.  I of course miss my NYC family and friends and I appreciate those who continue to send me off with joy and encouragement even though they miss me and know I'm far away.  Thanks for not forgetting me, friends.  But it's time to commit and be in one place for a while.

I've been noticing that one of the symptoms of my life changes/transitions is how I often suffer a bad case of FOMO (fear of missing out) when I think of my friends and family in NYC and what they're up to.  And the fact that I know practically no one - or at least, don't know people very well - in Rochester makes it tempting to doubt why I came here in the first place.

It also feels like I've been living in a lull.  Now, I hesitate to say that because it has such negative connotations and makes it seem like my life is boring or nonproductive.  So maybe “lull” is the wrong word.  Maybe it’s more like a pause button.  Kind of like the pause a comma is supposed to make when you read.  Except this pause feels like it has overstayed its welcome.  

Even though I've accumulated a mountain of new books over the past few months during my travels and actually haven't increased my reading pace at all because I haven't been reading all that much, I've recently decided to re-read Donald Miller's A Million Miles and a Thousand Years.  I wanted to read it for a bit of inspiration and to go back to the root of the theme of my wedding:  the desire to live out a good story.

As I was reading this past week, Miller said this:

“I’ve wondered, though, if one of the reasons we fail to acknowledge the brilliance of life is because we don’t want the responsibility inherent in the acknowledgement.  We don’t want to be characters because characters have to move and breathe and face conflict with courage.  And if life isn’t remarkable, then we don’t have to do any of that; we can be unwilling victims rather than grateful participants.”

It seemed to resonate with this feeling I've been having these past few weeks.  Maybe it's more like that feeling where you've been running or moving at full speed ahead with such power, force, and momentum that if you suddenly come to a complete halt, you get this really strange feeling that you should keep moving.  That's part of what it is.  But at the same time, I think it's more than that.  I think Miller's quote resonated with me because this pause has fed into my nervousness about this new chapter of life.  I don't have wedding plans or crazy travel schedules in the immediate future to hide behind as excuses for stress.  Now I just have to face the unknown head on, and there's this glitch of hesitancy.  I've already overcome conflict after conflict, and I've moved and moved and moved over this past year.  It's tempting and easy to sit back and become an unwilling victim.      

But Miller goes on to say that the essence of a good story is "a character who wants something and overcomes conflict to get it.”  And so, if I want to live out a good story with my life, I need to move and breathe and face conflict with courage.  I need to be a grateful participant who figures out what I want (in light of what God wants) and would be willing to overcome conflict to get it.  I can't just sit back, get through the day, and bide my time.  Life is precious and as Craig Groeschel said during the Willow Creek Global Leadership Summit, "If you're not dead, you're not done."

I have been saying "yes" to Jesus.  I am married and I am here because this is where He led me.  The windows and doors are open before me and my directions are already pretty clear.  The obstacles and conflicts are inevitable, but with the authority of Christ I can surely overcome them.

Let's do this.  Let's live a good story.

Good ol' books.

It makes me really happy when I see people reading books.  I mean actual paperback or hardcover, large print or small print, keep-turning-the-actual-page-of-paper rather than click-the-button-that-simulates-the-idea-of-turning-an-actual-paper-page.  In this world of iPads, e-readers, nooks, kindles, mp3 players, smart phones and flip cams, I do enjoy the smell and touch of holding a good old book.

Please, don't ever think about buying me an e-reader of any kind.  My dad offered to get me one as a graduation gift last year and in my head I was yelling, "Nooooooooo!!" in those super manly and deep, slow motion movie kind of ways.  It is not necessary and not desired.  The covers of books open the doors that let my heart in to a whole new world where it can make its home in the spine of the book, and e-readers simply don't have spines to do that.

I'm currently reading, The Woman in White, by Wilkie Collins.  It's a book that's about two inches thick.  Most e-reader owners would argue, "You see, you can buy or borrow an e-book and you wouldn't have to carry so much weight!"  But I don't really care.  I love the weight.  I love the scratchy sound the pages make when I turn them.  I like that it's fat.  I like fat books.

E-reader owners may also argue, "But with an e-reader, you can also carry lots of e-books without carrying around tons of weight."  Sorry, but I'm one of those human beings that can't literally read two books at once.  When I sit down to read, it's only possible for me to read one page at a time.  And yes, I guess I understand that if you want to put one book down and continue another to "read at the same time," I used to do that a lot when I was younger. Some parts of one book would be slow or too heavy so I'd want to take a break and read a lighter, more engaging book.  But again, I'd pack maybe one or two books with me.  I wouldn't need a hundred books to choose from.  If I read a hundred books at the same time I'd never finish one.  Sometimes we just need to pick a book and stick to it.  Do you think our inherent "need" to get a taste of many different books in one sitting says something about our society's issues with commitment?

I've been traveling a lot over this year, and it's amusing to find that most of the weight of my bags usually comes from the number of books I bring with me.  And though I'd like to bring just one or two, I'm usually at a point where I'm close to finishing one and would want to start another and may also finish that one so I'd want to have maybe one more, just in case.  Obviously because it was better to have an extra book that I didn't get around to rather than finish two books and have none to start.  Of course it's a little frustrating - I don't like carrying a lot of heavy stuff - but I totally think having real books is worth it.

Nathan often does the same thing - except he often packs way more books than me because he's a super fast reader and I'm super slow, so he'll knock out books at a faster turnover rate, which means he needs to carry more books.  But I think it's funny how we both do that.  I half-joked and told him once that when we have kids and they're old enough to read and  we need to travel somewhere, we'll probably always need to pack a separate luggage solely for the purpose of holding all of our family members' books.  Good luck to the family member that has to carry that bag.

I could go on and on about books.  But I will pause here and take a breath.  I only wanted to say how happy it makes me when I see people read real books because I don't see it as often anymore.  I did see a guy reading an actual book on the subway the other day, though, which is what inspired this post in the first place.

Please, go read books if you can.  There's something for everyone, whether you're a big reader or not.  They're great.  Go to a library or a bookstore and just read something.

Oh goodness, don't get me started on libraries and bookstores.

I've been making mud pies with my weak desires.

"The negative ideal of Unselfishness carries with it the suggestion not primarily of securing good things for others, but of going without them ourselves, as if our abstinence and not their happiness was the important point.  I do not think this is the Christian virtue of Love.  The New Testament has a lot to say about self-denial, but not about self-denial as an end of itself.  We are told to deny ourselves to take up our crosses in order that we may follow Christ; and nearly every description of what we shall ultimately find if we do so contains an appeal to desire.  If there lurks in most modern minds the notion that to desire our own good and earnestly to hope for the enjoyment of it is a bad thing, I must submit that this notion has crept in from Kant and the Stoics and is no part of the Christian faith.  Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires, not too strong, but too weak.  We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea.  We are far too easily pleased."

--From The Weight of Glory, by C.S. Lewis

The spiritual reality of ultimate hospitality.

Therefore remember that at one time you Gentiles in the flesh, called "the uncircumcision" by what is called the circumcision, which is made in the flesh by hands - remember that you were at that time separated from Christ, alienated from the commonwealth of Israel and strangers to the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world.  

But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ.  For he himself is our peace, who has made us both one and has broken down in his flesh the dividing wall of hostility by abolishing the law of commandments expressed in ordinances, that he might create in himself one new man in place of the two, so making peace, and might reconcile us both to God in one body through the cross, thereby killing the hostility.  And he came and preached peace to you who were far off and peace to those who were near.  For through him we both have access in one Spirit to the Father.  

So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God, built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus himself being the cornerstone, in whom the whole structure, being joined together, grows into a holy temple in the Lord.  In him you also are being built together into a dwelling place for God by the Spirit.

---Ephesians 2:11-22

I don't know if you've been following my growth in understanding this gift of hospitality I may have, but it's been a fun process so far.  Here are some things I've learned about it so far:

• Hospitality is so much more than entertaining guests or providing good food and serving your friends and family that come over to your house.
• Being a good host is not just about meeting physical needs but creating a space that helps the stranger/guest recognize that they have something valuable to offer the host.
• Practicing hospitality is invaluable to all those who claim that they follow Jesus.  
• Hospitality goes hand-in-hand with evangelism, bridging the gap between those outside and within the family of faith, guiding/influencing the strangers on the outside to welcome them into the house of God.
• Hospitality goes hand-in-hand with social justice, breaking down walls and restoring relationships between racial, economic and social borders.
• Good hosts can get lost in the preparations of serving others; better hosts find joy in listening and sitting at Jesus' feet.

One thing I also know is that this hospitality thing in my life won't be fully manifested until I push it further and  test it in how I serve strangers.

So if there is any encouragement in Christ, any comfort from his love, any participation in the Spirit, any affection and sympathy, complete my joy by being of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind.  Do nothing from rivalry or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves.  Let each of you look not only to his own interests but also to the interests of the others.

Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of  God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men.  And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.  Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord to the glory of God the Father.

--Philippians 2:1-11

The Lord will build you a house.

At the beginning of the summer, I shared my deep yearning to be able to "set down some roots" and call some place home both physically and emotionally.  Now it's the end of the summer, and though the desire is still there, a kind of peace has drifted its way into my heart even though my physical transitions have gotten a little crazier.

Now I've never been one to do an awesome or proper exegesis of a passage, so if I'm being heretical, please let me know.

But I wanted to share some thoughts on a portion of 1 Chronicles that I really identified with as I was reading this morning.  I thought it was interesting, too, because I was reading a passage to catch up to my scheduled daily readings, so technically, I was supposed to have read this a few weeks ago.  But it seemed to be a rather appropriate nourishment I needed for today:

1 Chronicles 17:1-15 (ESV) [emphasis added by me]:

Now when David lived in his house, David said to Nathan the prophet, "Behold, I dwell in a house of cedar, but the ark of the covenant of the LORD is under a tent."  And Nathan said to David, "Do all that is in your heart, for God is with you."

But that same night the word of the LORD came to Nathan, "Go and tell my servant David, 'Thus says the LORD:  It is not you who will build me a house to dwell in.  For I have not lived in a house since the day I brought up Israel to this day, but I have gone from tent to tent and from dwelling to dwelling.  In all places where I have moved with all Israel, did I speak a word with any of the judges of Israel, whom I commanded to shepherd my people, saying, "Why have you not built me a house of cedar?"' Now, therefore, thus shall you say to my servant David, 'Thus says the LORD of hosts, I took you from the pasture, from following the sheep, to be prince over my people Israel, and I have been with you wherever you have gone and have cut off all your enemies from before you.  And I will make for you a name, like the name of the great ones of the earth.  And I will appoint a place for my people Israel and will plant them, that they may dwell in their own place and be disturbed no more.  And violent men shall waste them no more, as formerly, from the time that I appointed judges over my people Israel.  And I will subdue all your enemies.  Moreover, I declare to you that the LORD will build you a house.  When yours days are fulfilled to walk with your fathers, I will raise up your offspring after you, one of your own sons, and I will establish his kingdom.  He shall build a house for me, and I will establish his throne forever.  I will be to him a father, and he shall be to me a son.  I will not take my steadfast love from him, as I took it from him who was before you, but I will confirm him in my house and in my kingdom forever, and his throne shall be established forever."'  In accordance with all these words, and in accordance with all this vision, Nathan spoke to David.

The Lord reminds David that He has been on the one leading the pack.  He has been "on the move," ever since He delivered Israel out of Egypt, and not once has He commanded His leaders to set down roots.  With this I was reminded that even though I feel like I've been on the move in a way as well, I haven't been arbitrarily going from place to place.  I have been going where I believe God has been leading me, and He hasn't exactly set up shop at the most ideal times or places.

The Lord also reminds David where He brought David out from, as a mere shepherd boy whom He transformed to become a leader for His people.  Here I was reminded of who I used to be just a mere four years ago as a freshman girl in college, and how He changed who I was as He appointed me to be a leader for my brothers and sisters and as an agent of change for those around me, and now as an InterVarsity campus staff worker.

As He also reminds David, the Lord has been with me wherever I have gone, whether it's been on mountaintops or through valleys, He has cut off all my enemies before me.  He hasn't promised to give all the answers or tell us what's happening next, but He has fulfilled His promise to be there with us when it happened.

At first when I read, "the LORD will build you a house," I thought, "Awesome!  That's comforting.  Maybe that means the LORD is saying to me, 'Don't worry, Tammy, you may be on the move for a while, but soon enough I'll prepare and create a place for you to settle down and really feel at home.  You just have to hold on and work through this period of constant moving and quick transitions to get there."

But then I thought about who God was talking to and realized, "Wait a second.  They said at the beginning of this passage that David already had a cedar house.  Why would God build him a new one?  That doesn't make any sense."

And when I looked at what followed the declaration, "the LORD will build you a house," I saw that God probably wasn't talking about a physical house.  God describes all that He'll be and do with David's offspring and his kingdom.  He doesn't promise David that he'll be able to establish God's house, but instead promises never to leave those who will come after him, and that the one whose David's legacy is rooted in God will not be in vain.

It sounds like God built David a different kind of house - a legacy of family whose roots are grounded in the foundation of God.

Should I take this literally and apply it directly to myself and say that God promises to establish my family as my house, that He promises not to take His steadfast love away from my children and that they will establish the LORD's house?  Or maybe stretch that further to mean not literally my offspring but instead the fruit of those lives He'll touch as I follow Him faithfully?

I don't know, but I know God isn't promising me a life of setting down roots in a physical location or attaching my heart to whoever I encounter or wherever I go.  I may always be on the move physically, emotionally, mentally, or spiritually in some way, shape, or form.

It's a little unnerving to think about.

But I'm reminded of His presence no matter what kind of time or place I've been in, and I've seen Him do wonders through me as He chooses me to lead His people in various ways, not because of my ability but because of how He works in me.  I am confident He'll still be there wherever I may move next.

For now, though, I probably should have gone to sleep a long time ago.  It's 2am and I've been sitting here writing this post instead of packing my clothes.  Oh well.

Getting unstuck.

I seriously started about six or seven blog posts in the last two weeks and haven't had the time or desire to finish any of them.  As I was trying to think of what to write for this one, I felt like all of them are intertwined and related, so I'm going to attempt to cohesively string these thoughts together.  But if it doesn't make sense, I apologize.

I must say, though, that I'm quite relieved I was finally journaling yesterday with some more raw feelings and thoughts to process.  I think during the period of time these past few weeks that I've stopped blogging I was a  little lonesome because so many people whom I feel at home with weren't around and I had a hard time processing my thoughts and feelings and worries.  And when I don't process my thoughts, they either just sit there, get buried, grow into lies, or make a great foundation for an explosion of emotions or seeping into my attitude.  And it gets more and more difficult when I want to process things but for some reason resist or don't have the time to do so.

It's dangerous, I must say.

For the record, just because we in the world of introverts prefer to sustain our energy from our own inner being and tend to shy away from large groups of people doesn't mean we necessarily like to be alone all the time.

But anyway, here are some thoughts.

A few weeks ago Alan, who came back from China for a little bit (and who I also believe should win as a parent for the Cutest Baby Award of 2011 because I've seen a lot of cute newborns from this year, but I think Janie is the cutest yet), taught an awesome Sunday School lesson.  He made a list of challenges on the dry erase board with prizes listed next to them if it was accomplished.  We had some fun seeing who would volunteer to hold a plank position for 2 minutes, attempt to do a hand stand for 30 seconds, do 35 push-ups, etc.  Mindy practically knocked out my ribs to get me to volunteer to sing the national anthem without mistakes in order to win a bag of candy, but I was too shy and didn't think the bag of candy was worth it since I didn't want to eat it.

After most of the challenges were attempted and completed and no one else wanted to do anything, Alan used the activity to help us try to figure out how we made the decision to take on the challenge or not.  Here's some things we came up with:

• Do I have the ability/capacity to take on the challenge?
• What do I receive if I am successful?  How much do I want it?
• What would happen if I am not successful?
• What's at stake if I do not take on the challenge?

Alan challenged us in a few ways.  One particular thing he said that struck me was this:

It's not enough to say, 'I know God.'  If you walk up to the White House and say, 'I know Obama, let me in,'  there's no way the guards will let you in.  But if Obama himself came outside and said, 'I know him,' and invites you inside, then that changes everything.
We claim to be Christians, but do we understand the cost it takes to be one?  Or have we forgotten what's at stake if our lives don't really reflect Christ's lordship?

So I finished reading this book last week called, Purple Cow:  Transform Your Business By Being Remarkable by Seth Godin.  I picked it up at the library recently because within the last few years I've piqued an interest in marketing and communications.  I love the concept of trying to figure out the relationships between a message and an audience and how to bridge that gap.  And since I don't plan on attending grad school, I thought I'd pick up some books and start my own little self-taught class, much like last summer when I read and learned a lot about finances (although, I think I need to review because I've forgotten a lot of stuff...whoops).

So a Purple Cow is described this way:

Cows, after you've seen one or two or ten, are boring.  A Purple Cow, though...now that would be something.  Purple Cow describes something phenomenal, something counterintuitive and exciting and flat out unbelievable.  

There's this one chapter that struck a chord in me because it seemed to apply to my life - beyond the concept of marketing:

Why do birds fly in formation?  Because the birds that follow the leader have an easier flight.  The leader breaks the wind resistance, and the following birds can fly far more efficiently.  

A lot of risk-averse business people believe that they can follow a similar strategy.  They think they can wait until a leader demonstrates a breakthrough idea, and then rush to copy it, enjoying the break in wind resistance from the leader.

The problem with people who would avoid a remarkable career is that they never end up as the leader.  They decide to work for a big company, intentionally functioning as an anonymous drone, staying way back to avoid risk and criticism.  If they make a mistake and choose the wrong bird to follow, they lose.  When a big company lays off ten thousand people, most of those people probably don't deserve to get fired.  They were doing what they were told, staying within the boundaries, and following instructions.  Alas, they picked the wrong lead bird.

The lesson the Cow is worth repeating:  Safe is risky.

To go along with this idea, I think following Christ is the ultimate purple cow.  Just stay with me for a second.  I'm not trying to say Jesus is some marketing strategy or that Christianity has a marketing scheme or anything like that.  It's just the concept of following Jesus is phenomenal, counterintuitive, exciting and flat out unbelievable.

What makes him the ultimate purple cow is that Jesus Christ (as a purple cow) doesn't ever become a brown cow - something common or boring.  We as sinful, flawed, finite humans treat following Jesus Christ like He is a brown cow and turn life into a routine.  We get comfortable, don't really challenge things, and go with the flow.

Earlier this summer I was talking with a friend about living "comfortable" lives.  We're both at a transitional period in our lives where we just graduated college and are learning what it means to make decisions in "real life."  My friend explained that he tended to make decisions based on what was done before, because it feels safe and reliable and gives a sense of security.  He said he tries his best to challenge himself and take steps out of his comfort zone, but at the same time, is there really anything wrong with being comfortable?

I didn't think there was anything inherently wrong with being comfortable.  But I knew it wasn't something we should necessarily be aiming for because when Jesus calls us to follow him he doesn't call us to a life of comfort.  I didn't really know how to answer my friend at the time.

There was another conversation I had with another friend where we talked about how sometimes it seems as though our lives and beliefs don't look that much different from the people around us.  We'll go through hard things, be good people and fight injustices - and the people around us will stand beside us.  I didn't really know how to answer him at the time, either.

I thought it was funny how the InterVarsity NY/NJ 2011 Regional Staff Conference's theme was on taking risks.  It was interesting how our speaker, Ted Esler, focused his talks on taking risks on ourselves, on others, and on God.

"Risk and faith are inseparable," Ted said at the beginning.  We looked at Hebrews and saw how this was true with examples like Abraham and Moses and Rahab who all took huge risks.  Some points he made (some note credit to Nathan):

• Everybody has a different risk threshold, but it doesn't matter - God will take you were you are and push your boundaries.
• Some risks are not worth taking.
• Success gives us more to lose.
• "I don't feel qualified," fear of success, fear of failure, cynicism, and social stigma are bad reasons to avoid risk.
• Taking risks on ourselves is not optional.  If we wait for perfect conditions we will never sow and never reap.
• You cannot build a ministry without risking it on other people (note: don't forget, every Christian is in ministry, not just those formally in "full-time" ministry!).
• We are commanded to take risks on God - to trust Him for huge things.

We were given some articles to read about taking risks, and in one of the articles it said:

People who undergo a crucible and grow through the experience all share something vital:  they don't become stuck.  No matter how much they struggle, no matter how much they may grieve, and no matter how much they may chafe at finding themselves in situations they cannot immediately control, they are not paralyzed by difficult situations.  Where others see chaos and confusion, they see opportunities to learn and grow.
A crucible is a transformative experience through which an individual comes to a new or an altered sense of identity.

Crucibles catalyze the process of learning from experience.

So in response to my friends:  it's not wrong to be comfortable, but if we settle for comfortable all the time we may be missing out on important opportunities to grow in our faith, in our relationships, and in our lives.

I'm also reading Kingdom Come by Allen Mitsuo Wakabayashi, but this post is way to long to start connecting that dot.

And from another chapter of Purple Cow:

You can't know if your Purple Cow is guaranteed to work.  You can't know if it's remarkable enough or too risky.  That's the point.  It's the very unpredictability of the outcome that makes it work.

A little voice.

Although Jon Walton gave us Mary Poplin's Finding Calcutta to read and challenged us to read the first chapter, I found myself still compelled to continue reading the book I started reading just before NYCUP: Paul Tokunaga's, Invitation to Lead: Guidance for Emerging Asian American Leaders. I'll share more about this in another post.

Today I stopped by the Jazzman's Cafe like I normally do, sat down, and started continuing where I left off reading earlier that day. But before I could even comprehend the words I just read, I suddenly heard, "It is God's mission."

I sat still for a second, thinking, "Whaaaat?" and I connected it to this feeling of immense pressure that had somehow been building up - either by own sense of insecurities and/or by the insecurities touched upon by those close to me - in regards to my future. I was crying out to God just the day before that I so desperately wanted to hear His voice or somehow be assured of His direction, His calling, or just the next step to give some clue as to where I'm supposed to go next. I knew in my head and in my heart that all I wanted was to obey Him and glorify Him wherever He was leading me. I knew in my head and my heart that even if it was scary or insecure in the world's eyes or seemingly impossible, I wanted to do it if it meant obeying Him.

Just because it feels right doesn't mean it is right, and just because people you trust tell you to do something doesn't mean you should. At the same time, you shouldn't just do things to be defiant or try to prove something.

When I heard "It's God's mission," it felt like this huge burden had been lifted from my chest. My future wasn't about me. It was about God. If I really believed that God was bigger than my worries about my future, then I can have confidence in Him. I trust where He's been leading me and that He's not driving me into a place where He will abandon me, leaving me out to dry. I knew that in my head but didn't really believe it in my heart.

My security rests in Him. Nothing else can stand its ground.

Humble attitude.

"Being humble is not a matter of pretending to be worthless, but is a form of realism, not only regarding the real badness of one's sins and stupidities and the real depth of one's dependence on God's grace, but also regarding the real range of one's abilities. Humble believers know what they can and cannot do. They note both their gifts and their limitations, and so are able to avoid both the unfaithfulness of letting their God-given powers lie fallow and the foolhardiness of biting off more than they can chew."
- J.I. Packer, A Passion for Faithfulness: Wisdom From the Book of Nehemiah

A bit of wanting.

More than anything else, I desire to glorify God with my life through my actions, words, thoughts and decisions.

But at the same time it's not always clear as to how I can do that. Read the first chapter of James Bryant Smith's "The Good and Beautiful God" where he talks about how we are driven by our narratives:

We cannot change simply by saying, “I want to change.” We have to examine what we think (our narratives) and how we practice (the spiritual disciplines) and who we are interacting with (our social context). If we change those things—and we can—then change will come naturally to us.

We are shaped by our stories. In fact, our stories, once in place, determine much of our behavior without regard to their accuracy or helpfulness. Once these stories are stored in our minds, they stay there largely unchallenged until we die. And here is the main point:
these narratives are running (and often ruining) our lives. That is why it is crucial to get the right narratives.

Once we “find” the narratives inside our minds, we can measure them against Jesus’ narratives. Because Jesus is the preexistent and eternal Son of God, no one knows God or the nature and meaning of life more than Jesus. Jesus’ narratives are the truth. He himself is the truth. So the key is adopting Jesus’ narratives.

It's sometimes difficult, though, to figure out what my narratives are and whether or not they actually align with Jesus' narratives.

For example, fear. If I think about my life growing up and my process of making everyday decisions, I would definitely say that most of my decisions were driven by an immense sense of fear. My parents say I was a pretty active, rambunctious child when I was little - I had tons of energy and just really put myself out there a lot. But if you look at me now I'm a lot more reserved and serious than I used to be and I think it has a lot to do with letting my fears make me extremely more cautious both in my mind and in my social context. I don't want to get in trouble, I don't want to do/say the wrong thing or the right thing in the wrong way, I don't want to hurt others, I don't want to let people down, I don't want people to dislike me or think less of me.

I do think, however, that that has changed significantly over the years through college, as I've been recognizing the need to speak up and not always keep my thoughts or feelings to myself. I've also been recognizing that I shouldn't try to invalidate or deny what I feel - God created us to be emotional beings.

Another thing that tends to influence my everyday decisions a lot is how I feel like I'm not allowed to really want something, or that I can want something, but I can't expect to get it. I think that's how it's become easy for me to deny myself things or to sacrifice things that are important to me for the sake of others because it feels selfish for me to ever really want anything. It's hard for me to tell people what I want in terms of material things or things in life because I consider myself a pretty low-maintenance kind of girl that tries to just make do with what she's given and not ask for anything more. And in life, like I said, I just desire to bring God glory in all I do, and I know that I don't really know how that'll look like, and understand that it could change easily.

I wonder how I got that way. Or at least, that extreme sometimes. God put an interesting brain inside my head.

From deflated to excited.

It's days like these when I need to remind myself at the end of the day that the world does not rest on my shoulders.

I feel like I've been having a semi-deflating week, with the frustrations of knowing things could be better than they are. I know that I can be an agent of change with my own attitude, but it's hard when everyone else around you feels deflated, too. And it's not one of those, "Oh my gosh I'm going to be bitter and complain all the time and refuse to do anything because I don't feel like I can do anything" kinds of attitudes. It's more like, "I remember that God has big plans for my life and for the world. I trust Him that things will not fall apart and that His vision is worthy to lay my life down for. But what is my part? Where do I go from here to get to there and how do I invite people to come alongside of me?"

However, the key part of my deflating week is that it was only "semi-deflating."

There have been a number of times this weekend where God kind of elbowed me really hard in the stomach.

On Saturday my hospitality team and I got together for our weekly meeting, and after finishing up the last chapter of How to Inherit the Earth, I wanted us to just talk about what it would look like if InterVarsity was successful in carrying out its mission. I don't know about my team, but it got me so excited! What got me even more excited was how Sarah Min had a good idea about something she wanted to see happen at Large Group and then was like, "I'll just try at next week's Large Group." Something I've admired about her is how she loves to dream things up and just goes out and does things to accomplish them. People like me tend to easily dismiss dreams because they seem impractical or too far off to accomplish.

With my curiosity and excitement firing up, I asked Sarah after our meeting what were some of the other things she's been dreaming up for herself. My admiration for her deepened as she shared so easily some of the things she wanted to do and how she had already took some steps in the direction of accomplishing them.

Then she unexpectedly turned the question back to me: "What do you dream about doing lately, Tammy?" I thought about it for a few seconds before saying, "I honestly haven't thought about it." And it was interesting because she said, "I think you should sing somewhere."

Of course, with the mind that I have that most of the time easily dismisses dreams, I started telling her, "There's not many opportunities I find besides talent shows and open mics, and even then I usually only get to play one or two songs." And I joked around that I should hold my own little mini-concert but then dismissed that because I wouldn't like all the attention or pressure - it's something I'd want to share with others.

And that eventually led me to the idea of holding a Benefit Concert to raise money for the NYCUP Spring Break Plunge that me and 19 other people from our chapter are participating in during our March spring break. I knew there were a lot of people in our chapter who may interested in helping us out by performing.

So the idea of planning the event got me really excited as well. I think it'll be really fun and a great opportunity for people to donate.

And...I just miss singing with people and for other people. This gives me a good excuse to say, "Hey, wanna sing with me?"

So even though there are now a bajillion things on my plate (I exaggerate) this week and things just keep popping up, I will not use this space to complain or whine because it will not solve anything and will only bring down the attitude. Blame cannot be labeled on anyone for these things - they're just the way they turned out. That's why I said it's days like these that I need to remind myself that the world does not rest on my shoulders. And besides,

"Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to your life?" (Luke 12:25)

From James Bryan Smith's "The Good and Beautiful Life: Putting on the Character of Christ"

Chapter Four: Learning to Live without Anger

Visceral and meditative anger are fueled by two ingredients, unmet expectations and fear, that, when united, ignite into a strong emotion. Unmet expectations are occasions for anger. [Fear] is good old-fashioned insecurity. The initial unmet expectation has moved to a level of threat. It is only when we are threatened in some way that we get angry. Our problem is fear and we think control is the solution.

From fear to trust. My daughter Hope and I were at one of my son's many baseball games. She went off to a swing with a friend. She never left my field of vision, but I moved from one part of the stands to another. When she turned to see me in the stands she thought I was gone; she welled up with tears and began running to the stands. Only about thirty seconds went by, but within that time she lost her breath and began panting with fear. I said, "Hope, I am over here," and she came running. "How could you leave me!" she said, trembling. "I never left you," I said. "And I never lost sight of you. You lost sight of me." She calmed down quickly, but the fear took a while to subside.

We may lose sight of God, but God never loses sight of us. God gives us space to experiment, grow, and mature; God never intrudes. But this doesn't mean God is not with us, is not watching us, is not intimately familiar with our comings and goings.

Question: How does trust diffuse anger?

From Sarah Arthur's "The One Year Daily Grind" Devotional for February 9th:

It's easy for churches to think of their group struggles as some sort of spiritual liability, as if God will only work through us if we've got it all together.

If only, if only...

But the Secret of Weakness is not primarily about what God is trying to teach us in the midst of our struggles but how God wants to bless others in the midst of our struggles.

People seek out the church, not necessarily because Christians are strong and vibrant and healthy and have it all together, but because the honest Christians have known what it is like to be weak.

Our pain and suffering are not some kind of spiritual liability. They're how God positions us to bless others.

This may sound nerdy.

But I don't really care.

It's interesting how my reaction to going into Barnes & Noble with a gift card could be so dramatically different from me entering our Queens Public Library with a library card.

It rained almost all day today. But I was excited to go to the library and was determined to not let the rain stop me. It was the kind of steady, all day kind of rain people write songs about. It was also pretty cold, and very slushy/icy from the leftover snow. Puddles were everywhere. But I hiked on my rainboots (I'm so glad I brought those home with me), snuggled into my purple XL Northface jacket (the only waterproof jacket I have), borrowed a pair of gloves (that I found on the kitchen table), and pulled out my new umbrella (I so happened to pick up a new one at Target just the other day! How convenient :P) to make the trek outside.

Of all the days this winter break to go out, today was possibly the most terrible one to choose. At the same time, the dreary weather makes it perfect for spending an entire afternoon in the library reading books.

I don't know what it was, but I was in a good mood. I didn't mind how cold my feet got (rainboots protect your feet from the puddles, not how icy they are) nor how heavy my one-shouldered laptop bag was, and the fact that it felt like the sun never really came out didn't really bother me. And when I climbed over a little hill of ice to stand on the edge of a corner to cross the street, only to have a car drive really fast through a huge puddle of water that sprayed all over me, I only laughed. Yeah, I laughed. Out loud. And a lot.

I know, I know...I'm weird.

I guess I just thought it was funny that in all the tv shows and movies, this would typically be the last straw to a bad day, but it was ironic that it almost felt like the cherry on top to a great day...and I hadn't even done anything yet. And I laughed because I thought it was so cool that I actually got to experience what it was like to really get wet from a car driving through a giant puddle. I wasn't drenched or anything, but it was significant enough to make any normal person upset.

Anyway, so all I really did was walk to the library, pick out books, and then read (well, technically I worked on my IV Staff app too, but it wasn't really a significant amount). It was so much fun! I realized how much I missed libraries. The good public libraries, not the ones on campus filled with yucky and boring academic research books. Bleh. No wonder why I don't like studying there. The books are practically just for looks for me.

Now granted, the Fresh Meadows Branch is pretty small, so the selection of books can be pretty limited. For example, I was looking for books to read on ice skating, and after looking through all the shelves of books on sports, baseball, the Olympics, ice hockey and so forth, I only found one book on ice skating. And it looked pretty old, but it seemed pretty informative.

And it's not the greatest work space - there was no place for me to plug my laptop into an outlet, and I couldn't leave my personal belongings at the table to browse more books (not that I would feel safe doing that anywhere, really), but it's homey. And it's a library. I love libraries. I love reading books.

I'd forgotten how much I loved reading books on anything, not just on spiritual formation or hospitality or even dating and relationships. I could read about Greek history or art or Emily Dickinson's poems or mysteries or marketing...anything I felt like learning about. Not that I had to read any of them or all of them, but if I wanted to, I could.

I'm only home for less than a week before I head back to school, and I already have plans made and tons of work to do alongside of spending time with my family so I had intended on just reading the books at the library without taking any home. But I decided to check out a few books anyway. I'll see how much I read. If I don't finish, that's fine. I'll just return them.

Amongst the select few that came home with me was the one book on ice skating.

It's like watching a tv show.

It's January 15th and my family had our belated Christmas dinner today. We were supposed to get together on the day after Christmas, but that was one of the snowpocalypse days, so we had decided to save ourselves from getting stuck in New Jersey for another day when our chances of getting snowed in were much slimmer. And since there are a lot of us and we all have busy schedules, we ended up having Christmas dinner in the middle of January.

I had forgotten how loud and crazy this particular group could be. I was really glad I was in an extroverted kind of mood, though, so I didn't feel like I needed to run off to a corner by myself to read or something. In fact, the buzz from all the aunts talking about wedding plans for our newly engaged cousin Selina, the attempt of figuring out the mystery of why the now sixth grader cousin Corey still doesn't like us, and even the Chinese chatter of all the grandparents - actually gave me a lot of energy that I thoroughly enjoyed.

I spent some of my time doing the usual - playing games and having lots of fun with all the cousins/"kids," but I wanted to spend most of my time just observing and interacting with all of the parents. I don't know if they realize this, but I really like learning things from them and about them. They're absolutely riveting to me. I'm curious to hear about their old days and what they thought when they were younger and how those things have changed. I want to know what things they've learned and how they learned them. I appreciate their advice and what they tell me to do or not to do, but I want to know what brought them to those conclusions and what makes them so sure that that's the right answer. I want to see their process of thinking behind their actions and how everything unfolded for them.

It's also fun to watch them in action and see how they interact with one another. It always makes me wonder what it'll be like when we're all a lot older - when our family gets a lot older and bigger. I wonder what it'll be like for my kids to have grandparents that actually speak English and grew up in America.

Observing everyone also made me wonder how much of our social interactions with each other were influenced by certain aspects of our "Chinese-y" culture as well as our "Americanized" culture. I think I realized I'm even less capable at distinguishing Asian/Chinese-y traits in people than I thought I was. There are no rules to these things. It makes me wonder how Chinese-American I am in my habits, traditions, and lifestyle. How do you know if something is typically Chinese-American...or not?

In any case, my family is great. And really entertaining to watch.

On a very different note, I went to Barnes & Noble today because my dad had gotten a gift card from Christmas from someone for our family. After spending about an hour and a half walking back and forth through rows of books without coming to a conclusion as to what book I should actually pick, I had a semi-short-lived rant in my head about how I hate books (especially books in bookstores) because they're all so wonderful and have so much potential to be wonderful - which causes me to have a terrible time trying to figure out which books to actually purchase and own. I did, however, come across this book amongst the highly unorganized "Christian Inspiration" section (which also bothered me tremendously):

which reminded me of the "Stuff White People Like" book. If you ever come across this book, read it. It's pretty darn funny, I must say. I laughed out loud quite a bit and all I did was skim through some of the pages.

Kids are my favorite teachers. (cont'd)

I definitely could've written a lot more in my previous post. I decided to spare you all and write more in a separate post, so that my ideas could kind of build off of one another and so you could try to follow my line of thinking.

So I go on and on about this posture of learning, not because I've got it all down and place myself in this posture all the time, but because realizing this helps me understand myself better, where I have fallen and what I hope for my relationship with others - all in the context of the picture God gives for us in our relationship with him, with others, and the world so that we can try to put the puzzle pieces together.
And I think having a posture of learning also ties in with hospitality.

In his book, Reaching Out: The Three Movements of the Spiritual Life, Henri Nouwen says:
Old and New Testament stories not only show how serious our obligation is to welcome the stranger in our home, but they also tell us that guests are carrying precious gifts with them, which they are eager to reveal to a receptive host.

As we are all learning to be good hosts in God's topsy-turvy kingdom, we need to clothe ourselves with humility, recognizing that though we expect our guests to have nothing, they actually have something to offer.
When hostility is converted into hospitality then fearful strangers can becomes guests revealing to their hosts the promise they are carrying with them. Then, in fact, the distinction between host and guest proves to be artificial and evaporates in the recognition of the new found unity.

With hospitality, though, it's easy to get caught up in how our society views it today. In Christine D. Pohl's book, Making Room: Recovering Hospitality as a Christian Tradition, she says:
Today when we think of hospitality, we don't think first of welcoming strangers. We picture having family and friends over for a pleasant meal. Or we think of the "hospitality industry," of hotels and restaurants which are open to strangers as long as they have the money or credit cards. Perhaps large churches come to mind, with their "hospitality committees" that coordinate the coffee hour, greet visitors, or help with the parking. In any case, today most understandings of hospitality have a minimal moral coponent - hospitality is a nice extra if we have the time or the resources, but we rarely view it as a spiritual obligation or as a dynamic expression of vibrant Chrisitianity.

So true, right? To be honest, that's what I've always thought (and sometimes still get caught up in) hospitality was all about. Pohl points out, though, that:
Whereas in ancient times all strangers depended on someone else's hospitality, today, it is those without resources who depend most on the free provision of food, shelter, and protection that characterizes hospitality.


Look at Luke 10 when Jesus sends out the seventy-two. He tells them not to carry anything with them, and to bring peace to the house they enter, with the risk that they'll be rejected. He sent them as "lambs among wolves" - vulnerable, needy people in the midst of a hostile world. We need to learn to be good guests before we can learn to be good hosts.

Then in Luke 10 Jesus helps a man, an "expert," understand who really was his neighbor - the Samaritan who showed mercy. With the amount of hostility Jews viewed Samaritans with, I bet no one expected the Samaritan to have anything to offer to the man on the road. I wonder what the "expert" thought or did when Jesus told him to "go and do likewise" of the Samaritan. The Samaritan was a neighbor - a guest - that no one expected to learn anything from.

And so the learning posture made me wonder if it tied with hospitality because it made me think of Mary and Martha. Both of them were hosts to Jesus. Maybe Martha got caught up in trying to meet the physical needs of her guest that she had forgotten her guest had something to offer.

And maybe that's why Jesus said Mary had chosen "the good portion/what is better." Mary was a host, too, and yet she had placed herself below her guest, in a learning posture, because she expected to receive something wonderful and valuable from Jesus.

The term hospitality, therefore, should not be limited to its literal sense of receiving a stranger in our house - although it is important never to neglect that! - but as a fundamental attitude toward our fellow human being, which can be expressed in a great variety of ways. -- Henri Nouwen

Within acts of hospitality, needs are met, but hospitality is truncated if it does not go beyond physical needs. Part of hospitality includes recognizing and valuing the stranger or guest. --Christine D. Pohl

Dear Anne of Green Gables,

Even though sometimes I laugh at your melancholy, overdramatic moments, I totally understand you.

Like those times you did something stupid like accidentally dye your hair green, or smashed a slate over Gilbert Blythe's head, or accidentally made Diana Barry drunk and you fell into the "depths of despair" - I was right there with you. Maybe I haven't had the audacity to walk the top of a ridgepole or talk back to older people to put them in their place like you do, but you definitely externally express what I often feel inside.

And those interactions you have with Marilla, after you've done something foolish and Marilla says "fiddlesticks" and tells you how everything is "nonsense" and that the practical and sensible things are better...that's pretty much what goes on in my head all the time - the clash between my "oh my gosh I'll never get over this" side and my "oh please, get over yourself" side.

And I get how you feel when you don't want people or things to change as you get older, and how it feels like you don't quite understand why or how people's ideals change.

But I admire the way you're able to speak your mind and stubbornly stick to your beliefs while simultaneously being able to imagine how people feel in order to understand where they're coming from. You can win over even the toughest people without compromising your values. I tend to keep my own opinions hidden so well for the sake of preventing conflict or making people happy that I often can't seem to find them anymore.
It's interesting to see how I identify with different stages of your life than when I was younger and first watched you grow up. I've seen how my own ideals have change.
You give me hope in a lot of ways, Anne with an 'e' - possibly in more ways than anyone may ever know or understand.
Love,
Tammy Chan
A big fan since the 4th grade

It's beginning to look a lot like

...Thanksgiving.

I don't know if you remember, but in one of my posts about Thanksgiving break, I recognized suddenly that there was a lot more to unpack from my mind than I realized I needed. It kind of feels the same way now.

It's like I've been walking in slow motion through a blur of fast-paced events, and it's only now beginning to clear up and settle down...and not really at the same time. I've been looking forward to this break for a while, thinking that I was going to chill out and do whatever I wanted.

But I'm starting to get sucked into the rush of doing things again, when all I really want to do is just stay home and go at my own pace for a little bit before I start getting pulled this way and that.

Of course, I also recognize that life doesn't always work out the pace I want it to go, so I've kind of just been floating along, letting the current take me where it wants me to go. Which for me, isn't always a healthy thing.

I learned that from my summer of solitude between sophomore and junior year. I tend to be like "a jar of river water all shaken up" and what I need is to "sit still long enough that the sediment can settle and the water can become clear," as her spiritual director tells Ruth Haley Barton in her book, Invitation to Solitude and Silence.

So I'm beginning to recognize that even though I've been having a relatively easy-going semester where I've been flexible and not as panicky or stressed out as I normally am, it's still very important for me to protect my sacred space of solitude and Sabbath. And even though I've practiced how to carry that through my everyday activities and decisions, I need to create time and space each day or each week to let things settle.

I think the lack of this discipline is one of the reasons why I've had a number of emotional breakdowns this semester, despite my relatively stable and even thriving mental and physical states.

In any case, just wanted you to be prepared. My posts might get more random than they already are, and they may end up being longer than I want it to be because there's so much going on - not only in my head but in my life around me. And of course, I don't put everything on my mind on this blog, so can you imagine all the cranial activity that I'm experiencing?

Ruth Haley Barton also says, "My life as a writer and speaker revolves around being able to make sense out of things by putting them into words." What a good book. Perhaps I should read it again.

So blog away I shall, but I will first start by physically clearing a space to unpack my mind. My room has gotten a little bit messy since I got home, and I haven't had the motivation to clean it until now.

Holding on Loosely

It used to be more common for me to figuratively hold on to things very tightly, even when it hurt. But I think as I've been walking, jogging, and running through college, God has pried open my hands to see things I hadn't seen before, especially the brokenness that sometimes results from holding on so tightly.

I refuse to give them up, saying, "But it's mine, God. It isn't fair that this person gets to keep their pride, or that this person gets to thrive, or that this person can do this...how come I have to be the one who has to change?" And more and more God reminds me that everything I have isn't mine. Everything was given to me, but not for the sole purpose of fulfilling my needs. Instead, everything was given to me so that I would learn how to take care of them and produce fruit in order to serve the needs of others - the same way He was caring for us. And as I was doing so, what I truly needed would be fulfilled.

So He's been teaching me what it means to hold things loosely in my hand, because everything I have is not mine and He gives and takes away and grows things for the good of those who love Him.

But at the same time I feel like I've been holding on to things so loosely that I haven't been caring for them as much as I should be. I feel like to a certain extent I've fallen a little too far the other way that I've neglected quite a few things I've been entrusted with.

And that scares me.

It scares me enough to do something about it. It's just...that's the hard part - figuring out what God actually wants me to do or gaining to courage to actually do it.

Some excerpts from Henri J.M. Nouwen's book, Reaching Out: The Three Movements of the Spiritual Life:

The movement from loneliness to solitude can make it possible to convert slowly our fearful reactions into a loving response.
As long as we are trying to run away from our loneliness we are constantly looking for distractions with the inexhaustible need to be entertained and kept busy.
But it seems of great importance to know with an experiential knowledge the difference between an action that is triggered by a change in the surrounding scene and an action that has ripened in our hearts through careful listening to the world in which we live.
The movement from loneliness to solitude should lead to a gradual conversion from an anxious reaction to a loving response.
Don't we often look at the many events of our lives as big or small interruptions, interrupting many of our plans, projects and life schemes? And doesn't this unending row of interruptions build in our hearts feelings of anger, frustration and even revenge, so much so that at times we see the real possibility that growing old can become synonymous with growing bitter?
But what if our interruptions are in fact our opportunities, if they are challenges to an inner response by which growth takes place and through which we come to the fullness of being? What if all the unexpected interruptions are in fact the invitations to give up old-fashioned and out-moded styles of living and are opening up new unexplored areas of experience? And finally: What if our history does not prove to be a blind impersonal sequence of events over which we have no control, but rather reveals to us a guiding hand pointing to a personal encounter in which all our hopes and aspirations will reach their fulfillment?
Then our life would indeed be a different life because then fate becomes opportunity, wounds a warning and paralysis an invitation to search for deeper sources of vitality.
Then indeed we can break out of the prison of anonymous series of events and listen to the God of history who speaks to us in the center of our solitude and respond to his ever new call for conversion.
As I'm trying to figure out what it means to hold things loosely without neglect, all I know for sure is that I should cling tightly to is His Word, His truths, and His love.