I can't upload pictures because of a slow internet connection, which is sad because I wanted to talk about the day via pictures. But I will use words instead.
The wedding was beautiful. I liked the bridesmaids more and more as the day went on and we bonded through bridesmaidly duties, like helping Erin go to the bathroom in her big wedding dress. Erin looked gorgeous, and she was a nervous wreck, which was unanticipated and kind of funny. The whole bridal party were northerners, which was nice because we were largely overwhelmed by Texans. Every time something weird happened, we said "Maybe that's how you do it in the South?" It was discriminatory, but my excuse is that I've been feeling some culture shock being here so long.
The wedding party got trammed to the ceremony spot just minutes before it started. Thank goodness; it was hot. I walked down the aisle with DC. Erin walked down the aisle and Tim grinned like crazy. It was very sweet.
The best part of the whole thing was the Turkey reunions! Obviously, there was Erin and Tim and DC and Stephanie. But Kevin and Bruce were there, as well as Chris and Jason! It was super really nice to see all of them, and I honestly mean all of them. We got a reunion picture. Steph and I interviewed some of them. I had nice long talks with Kevin (I love people who understand missions, because instead of asking the normal "Are you glad to be back in the United States?" he asked, "Do you miss Senegal?") and Jason (it was the longest, nicest conversation we've ever had, and it made me sad that I didn't stop by his office more often in Jackson) and Chris (he almost agreed to come over to Stephanie's house to watch the LOST finale, but bailed when Kevin said he couldn't and would therefore be the only boy).
It was lovely, and I danced stupid with only two other people on the dance floor, and the food was delicious, and I heart my Turkey family. I am so thrilled for the new Mr. and Mrs. Messer! Good times.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Friday, July 30, 2010
Rehearsals
I love weddings.
Today Tim came over and we had a family breakfast. We are newly named the MMCs. The food was delicious. I love my friends.
We went to a nail salon, but I didn't want to spend money on having pretty nails. Once the other customers cleared out, I did get to sit in a massage chair. Heavenly.
The wedding rehearsal was super fast and crazy hot. I'm walking with DC, so we caught up on my mission trip and his new marriage during our walks to and from our spots. We're walking in heels on grass, so hopefully there will be no tripping or getting stuck during the ceremony.
Then we went to the rehearsal dinner. It was Tex/Hawaiian, with delicious Texan food and awesome Hawaiian decorations. I like the other bridesmaids. I caught up with Chris, who is playing the music for the wedding. He is just like he once was, winking across rooms and saying dramatic things about his life as vaguely as possible. But it was really nice to see him again, and while he only said hello to the girls he knew from his church, he lit up and hugged me when he saw me. I require so much validation of friendships. Anyway, being reunited without drama is a nice thing.
And then Tim stood up and talked about how their wedding wasn't about him and Erin--it was about Jesus and his relationship to the church. And he was just so brave and so in love with Jesus...I love Tim. After that everyone could stand up and tell a story about Erin or Tim or give advice or whatever. It was so cool to hear everyone saying how awesome my friends are--I'm so proud to have them in my life. I'm so grateful God sent me to Turkey to meet them.
I actually stood and talked a bit. Said the cheesy "even though I've only known you guys for a year and a half, you're family" then related the requisite embarrassing story about them surviving marriage because they'd already survived putting eardrops in Erin.
There are five of us girls staying at Stephanie's tonight, and we all prayed for Erin before going to bed. I love having friends who put God first, who want to make sure that He's a part of big events.
Anyway, it was a lovely night. I'm excited for the actual wedding. I love the bride and the groom.
Today Tim came over and we had a family breakfast. We are newly named the MMCs. The food was delicious. I love my friends.
We went to a nail salon, but I didn't want to spend money on having pretty nails. Once the other customers cleared out, I did get to sit in a massage chair. Heavenly.
The wedding rehearsal was super fast and crazy hot. I'm walking with DC, so we caught up on my mission trip and his new marriage during our walks to and from our spots. We're walking in heels on grass, so hopefully there will be no tripping or getting stuck during the ceremony.
Then we went to the rehearsal dinner. It was Tex/Hawaiian, with delicious Texan food and awesome Hawaiian decorations. I like the other bridesmaids. I caught up with Chris, who is playing the music for the wedding. He is just like he once was, winking across rooms and saying dramatic things about his life as vaguely as possible. But it was really nice to see him again, and while he only said hello to the girls he knew from his church, he lit up and hugged me when he saw me. I require so much validation of friendships. Anyway, being reunited without drama is a nice thing.
And then Tim stood up and talked about how their wedding wasn't about him and Erin--it was about Jesus and his relationship to the church. And he was just so brave and so in love with Jesus...I love Tim. After that everyone could stand up and tell a story about Erin or Tim or give advice or whatever. It was so cool to hear everyone saying how awesome my friends are--I'm so proud to have them in my life. I'm so grateful God sent me to Turkey to meet them.
I actually stood and talked a bit. Said the cheesy "even though I've only known you guys for a year and a half, you're family" then related the requisite embarrassing story about them surviving marriage because they'd already survived putting eardrops in Erin.
There are five of us girls staying at Stephanie's tonight, and we all prayed for Erin before going to bed. I love having friends who put God first, who want to make sure that He's a part of big events.
Anyway, it was a lovely night. I'm excited for the actual wedding. I love the bride and the groom.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Crappy Minimalistic Update
So far in my last great vacation I have:
1. Arrived at Stephanie's house before her family and set off their alarm.
2. Eaten at Otherlands with Erin for the last time while she is single.
3. Watched the Very Potter Sequel, which made me laugh until I cried, then made me jump up and down squealing with joy.
4. Got a job at the Dunlap library!
1. Arrived at Stephanie's house before her family and set off their alarm.
2. Eaten at Otherlands with Erin for the last time while she is single.
3. Watched the Very Potter Sequel, which made me laugh until I cried, then made me jump up and down squealing with joy.
4. Got a job at the Dunlap library!
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Harry Potter Survey :D
Oh! Oh! I've got to regress a couple years and fill out a meme, because this is just too awesome not to do. It's pure happenstance that I found this, but it is great timing, because the Very Potter Sequel musical is out on youtube, and I am crazy excited to watch it, but I can't, because I promised Stephanie we would watch it together. So if you don't like Harry Potter, skip! If you do, and you have time to waste, fill it out on your blog or in the comments! I want to bask in the Harry Potter love and memories.
1. How did you get into the books?
My friend Lacie bought two copies of the 4th book when I was 12. I'd heard they were good, so I bought one from her, then went and bought the first three. I was instantly hooked.
2. Your favorite book?
Gah. I love the 3rd book, because I love all the Marauder backstory. And it's just a brilliantly conceived mystery. But I also love the 4th, because that was the moment I realized these books were serious stuff. Once Voldemort regained his body and killed a student and took Harry's blood....well goodness, I knew it was no longer just a happy little children's tale. I actually read that passage aloud, the "kill the spare" passage, to my mom in the car. She didn't understand the awesomeness at the time.
3. What house would you be in?
Ravenclaw, probably. I'm smart and not particularly adventurous. I like to think the Ravenclaws are off doing their own awesome things while the Gryffindors and Slytherins are being all antagonistic toward each other.
4. Your favorite movie?
I never actually liked the movies until the 5th, which actually impressed me. But I'm going to have to go with the 6th one, because I liked it so much I saw it three times in theaters (though it lacked by the third time). That was the movie to which I dragged the Monahans at midnight. Then when we left the theater at 3 a.m. it was lightning and ominous. I thought Death Eaters were going to swoop in and attack. I love my brain at 3 in the morning.
5. Wizard Rock. Discuss.
I know it exists (people making songs about HP), but....that's all I know.
6. Your favorite characters?
*sigh* My all time favorite is Draco. Oh my word. He is a sad little angry boy who wants to be awesome but just keeps losing to that annoying Potter brat. How can your heart not go out to him? He is actually the reason I loved the 6th movie so much--they focused on his character's struggle a lot, which I really appreciated. Trying to be his dad, but unable. Oh, Draco. I love your snark, and I love you even though Harry is better than you at everything!
Also Hermione, because she reminds me of me. I'm smart and I have bushy hair. When I would read the books I would kind of put myself in her place, because I wanted to have two awesome guy friends with whom I could save the world.
Fred and George! I love every scene they are in. Fred's death was one of the most heart-wrenching things I've ever read.
And I'll throw Dumbledore in there too. I love kooky mentors who help the hero while being very odd. And the revelation that he had been grooming Harry to kill himself!? So much awesome! This kindly old man turned into a deadly practical war general. Didn't see it coming and loved him for it.
7. Drink that reminds you of HP?
Umm, not much, really. Although sometimes when I drink out of cask/bottle/things, I imagine I'm sneakily drinking polyjuice potion like Fake Moody.
8. Your favorite ship(s)?
Well, I'm going to have to say not the canon ones. I like the idea of Hermione and Harry much more. I don't like relationships based on bickering, which is how I see Hermione and Ron. When H&H wandered the woods together in the last book, I thought they could easily be a couple.
But more than that, I like the idea of Hermione and Draco. They have serious antagonistic chemistry. So I don't like bickering, but seething hate turned to love? Yeah, I can get behind that.
Really, I didn't read the books for the couples (probably because I didn't like who Rowling was obviously setting with who...don't even get me started on Ginny...blech). That is what fanfiction is for!
9. Fanfiction: discuss!
Oh, hahaha. Okay, I will! Pretty much since I was 12, I was equally invested in HP canon and fanon. Since it was years between books, I had to fill up my HP love with the interwebs. I theorized, read endless amounts of articles and essays, and most importantly, read fanfiction! That is where I developed my love for Hermione/Draco. There were some that were as long as the actual books themselves, and there are HP fanfiction authors that turned into real authors that I love (Cassandra Clare and Sarah Rees Brennan!).
10. Favorite book moment(s)?
I love the deaths. That is morbid, but Rowling writes them with such heart-wrenching beauty. Sirius! Dumbledore! Fred! Dear Lord, even Snape, who only wanted to see Harry's eyes one last time because they were just like his unrequited love's.
Less morbidly, I love when Fred and George leave the school amidst rebellion and fireworks. I love the end of book 3 when you find out Sirius is actually a good guy and it was Ron's pet rat all along! I love Dumbledore offering Draco mercy...that scene on the top of the tower has me sobbing even before Dumbledore dies. I love little baby Harry confronting Quirrel and defeating him with the power of love. I love the patronuses, and I seriously want one. I love that Harry gave up his life and died to save the world, and then came back to life (seriously, how did people think it was evil? So much Christianity everywhere!). I love that the Malfoys were actually all about their family instead of Voldemort. I love all the sweet little moments of Harry and Ron and Hermione being best friends in the midst of horrible world-saving activities.
11. Character you're crushing on?
Duh. Malfoy. He is snarky and broken, and he doesn't know how to be redeemed. He is the Benjamin Linus of HP. Of course I love him.
But in real life, I would probably crush on Sirius or Remus, regardless if they are school-aged or adults. Besides, they were only in their mid-30s during the books. And they are made of a lot of awesome.
12. Favorite movie scene?
Again, the 6th. It's gotta be Draco seeing Katie and realizing what he's done, then going to the bathroom to cry and almost repent. But then in comes Harry and he's looked weak! Oh no! Better duel. And then poor baby Harry unknowingly uses a dark curse that slashes Draco open, and they are both just shocked, and their rivalry has simultaneously raised the stakes and become so scary as to make them both back off. Then Draco just lays on the wet floor in a growing puddle of blood until Snape swoops in and heals him while the camera looks on from above. Beautiful and tragic.
13. Least favorite character(s)?
Ginny. Ugh. She went from a believable girl with a crush on her older brother's famous friend to SUPER GINNY who is just the best at everything and super confident and is desired by all the boys. Shoot me in the face. And then of course Harry gets the girl, only to leave her behind for his last year. He takes his friends, but not his girlfriend? She just waits for him? What kind of medieval romance is this? I want my romantic partners to fight together, to save the world together. And I want them to have some flaws so that they seem vaguely human.
Also I hated Umbridge. But who didn't?
14. Moments that made you cry?
Hm. I know I definitely cried when Sirius died. I guess that was the first time? The 6th book was the worst. I sobbed through Harry spoon feeding that awful potion to Dumbledore in the cave, and then sobbed again later when Dumbledore actually died. And I surprise sobbed when Fred died, because it's just so unexpected and cruel.
15. Whatever tickles your fancy.
Well, okay. I love Harry Potter. I probably always will. It is a huge part of my childhood/adolesence/young adulthood. It is still going on, because there are two more movies as well as one released but unviewed youtube musical. If I could live in any world but this one, it would be Hogwarts world. Even more than Narnia or Middle Earth.
I gave away my HP books, but I've still got a HP coloring book.
That I used as recently as earlier this week.
1. How did you get into the books?
My friend Lacie bought two copies of the 4th book when I was 12. I'd heard they were good, so I bought one from her, then went and bought the first three. I was instantly hooked.
2. Your favorite book?
Gah. I love the 3rd book, because I love all the Marauder backstory. And it's just a brilliantly conceived mystery. But I also love the 4th, because that was the moment I realized these books were serious stuff. Once Voldemort regained his body and killed a student and took Harry's blood....well goodness, I knew it was no longer just a happy little children's tale. I actually read that passage aloud, the "kill the spare" passage, to my mom in the car. She didn't understand the awesomeness at the time.
3. What house would you be in?
Ravenclaw, probably. I'm smart and not particularly adventurous. I like to think the Ravenclaws are off doing their own awesome things while the Gryffindors and Slytherins are being all antagonistic toward each other.
4. Your favorite movie?
I never actually liked the movies until the 5th, which actually impressed me. But I'm going to have to go with the 6th one, because I liked it so much I saw it three times in theaters (though it lacked by the third time). That was the movie to which I dragged the Monahans at midnight. Then when we left the theater at 3 a.m. it was lightning and ominous. I thought Death Eaters were going to swoop in and attack. I love my brain at 3 in the morning.
5. Wizard Rock. Discuss.
I know it exists (people making songs about HP), but....that's all I know.
6. Your favorite characters?
*sigh* My all time favorite is Draco. Oh my word. He is a sad little angry boy who wants to be awesome but just keeps losing to that annoying Potter brat. How can your heart not go out to him? He is actually the reason I loved the 6th movie so much--they focused on his character's struggle a lot, which I really appreciated. Trying to be his dad, but unable. Oh, Draco. I love your snark, and I love you even though Harry is better than you at everything!
Also Hermione, because she reminds me of me. I'm smart and I have bushy hair. When I would read the books I would kind of put myself in her place, because I wanted to have two awesome guy friends with whom I could save the world.
Fred and George! I love every scene they are in. Fred's death was one of the most heart-wrenching things I've ever read.
And I'll throw Dumbledore in there too. I love kooky mentors who help the hero while being very odd. And the revelation that he had been grooming Harry to kill himself!? So much awesome! This kindly old man turned into a deadly practical war general. Didn't see it coming and loved him for it.
7. Drink that reminds you of HP?
Umm, not much, really. Although sometimes when I drink out of cask/bottle/things, I imagine I'm sneakily drinking polyjuice potion like Fake Moody.
8. Your favorite ship(s)?
Well, I'm going to have to say not the canon ones. I like the idea of Hermione and Harry much more. I don't like relationships based on bickering, which is how I see Hermione and Ron. When H&H wandered the woods together in the last book, I thought they could easily be a couple.
But more than that, I like the idea of Hermione and Draco. They have serious antagonistic chemistry. So I don't like bickering, but seething hate turned to love? Yeah, I can get behind that.
Really, I didn't read the books for the couples (probably because I didn't like who Rowling was obviously setting with who...don't even get me started on Ginny...blech). That is what fanfiction is for!
9. Fanfiction: discuss!
Oh, hahaha. Okay, I will! Pretty much since I was 12, I was equally invested in HP canon and fanon. Since it was years between books, I had to fill up my HP love with the interwebs. I theorized, read endless amounts of articles and essays, and most importantly, read fanfiction! That is where I developed my love for Hermione/Draco. There were some that were as long as the actual books themselves, and there are HP fanfiction authors that turned into real authors that I love (Cassandra Clare and Sarah Rees Brennan!).
10. Favorite book moment(s)?
I love the deaths. That is morbid, but Rowling writes them with such heart-wrenching beauty. Sirius! Dumbledore! Fred! Dear Lord, even Snape, who only wanted to see Harry's eyes one last time because they were just like his unrequited love's.
Less morbidly, I love when Fred and George leave the school amidst rebellion and fireworks. I love the end of book 3 when you find out Sirius is actually a good guy and it was Ron's pet rat all along! I love Dumbledore offering Draco mercy...that scene on the top of the tower has me sobbing even before Dumbledore dies. I love little baby Harry confronting Quirrel and defeating him with the power of love. I love the patronuses, and I seriously want one. I love that Harry gave up his life and died to save the world, and then came back to life (seriously, how did people think it was evil? So much Christianity everywhere!). I love that the Malfoys were actually all about their family instead of Voldemort. I love all the sweet little moments of Harry and Ron and Hermione being best friends in the midst of horrible world-saving activities.
11. Character you're crushing on?
Duh. Malfoy. He is snarky and broken, and he doesn't know how to be redeemed. He is the Benjamin Linus of HP. Of course I love him.
But in real life, I would probably crush on Sirius or Remus, regardless if they are school-aged or adults. Besides, they were only in their mid-30s during the books. And they are made of a lot of awesome.
12. Favorite movie scene?
Again, the 6th. It's gotta be Draco seeing Katie and realizing what he's done, then going to the bathroom to cry and almost repent. But then in comes Harry and he's looked weak! Oh no! Better duel. And then poor baby Harry unknowingly uses a dark curse that slashes Draco open, and they are both just shocked, and their rivalry has simultaneously raised the stakes and become so scary as to make them both back off. Then Draco just lays on the wet floor in a growing puddle of blood until Snape swoops in and heals him while the camera looks on from above. Beautiful and tragic.
13. Least favorite character(s)?
Ginny. Ugh. She went from a believable girl with a crush on her older brother's famous friend to SUPER GINNY who is just the best at everything and super confident and is desired by all the boys. Shoot me in the face. And then of course Harry gets the girl, only to leave her behind for his last year. He takes his friends, but not his girlfriend? She just waits for him? What kind of medieval romance is this? I want my romantic partners to fight together, to save the world together. And I want them to have some flaws so that they seem vaguely human.
Also I hated Umbridge. But who didn't?
14. Moments that made you cry?
Hm. I know I definitely cried when Sirius died. I guess that was the first time? The 6th book was the worst. I sobbed through Harry spoon feeding that awful potion to Dumbledore in the cave, and then sobbed again later when Dumbledore actually died. And I surprise sobbed when Fred died, because it's just so unexpected and cruel.
15. Whatever tickles your fancy.
Well, okay. I love Harry Potter. I probably always will. It is a huge part of my childhood/adolesence/young adulthood. It is still going on, because there are two more movies as well as one released but unviewed youtube musical. If I could live in any world but this one, it would be Hogwarts world. Even more than Narnia or Middle Earth.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Angry Conversations with God
I have been devouring Susan Isaacs hilarious and poignant and theological book Angry Conversations with God: A Snarky but Authentic Spiritual Memoir. And can we just stop right there and appreciate how awesome that title is? The book is exactly what I wish I had written.
Agh, I just love it so much! My favorite Christian authors are the ones who are messed up, and will gladly tell you about it. I like Christians who cuss and who question God and who will go anywhere or do anything to catch a glimpse of hope. I like my Tozers and Lewises, don't get me wrong. They speak to me intellectually, and often they do awaken my soul through their brilliance. But authors like Donald Miller and now Susan Isaacs....they make me feel human. They give me hope, because they are screwed up and flawed, but they also love God with a deep and passionate adoration. I relate to them far more, because I am quite screwed up and flawed myself. But I can still love God desperately despite all my problems.
So thanks, Joel! Awesome fantabulous recommendation.
But this isn't just a book rec. I will, of course, apply it to my life, because that's what I do as a soc/psych major. The premise of the book is that the author takes God to couple's counseling. She talks through her life, and then she and God have a hypothetical conversation about what in the world God was doing through the insanity and horror and beauty.
I'm a bit nervous about the wedding next week. I mean, actually I'm not, but I was a couple months ago, and I anticipate another round of nerves hitting before the event. That's because the two boys who wreaked havoc on me emotionally last spring will be at the wedding. If you read my old blog, you know who I mean, because I spent a fairly large amount of text whining and complaining and saying "WHAT IS GOING ON!?"
But I decided to take a look at those situations and see how God used them to help me, even though I'd much rather never met those boys. (Okay, that's not true. They are truly awesome boys, but I wish I hadn't been stupid and allowed myself to get heartbroken.)
So Chris is easy. It only took me a few minutes to see how God used that relationship to help me, even though I had never thought about it before. Since I saw Chris as my brother, but could talk to him about Jesus and life at the same time, he broke apart my idolatry for my biological brother. I had a tendency to hero-worship Roy. I still think he is very awesome, and he has undoubtedly changed what I consider cool and lame. But he's not someone I should admire or mimic. He's not a Christian, and he's not living a life I want to imitate. Being around Chris showed me that my brother is not perfect. I never thought I would lose that idolatry, but....I think I pretty much have. That's kind of huge, if you've heard me rave about Roy.
Kevin is not so easy, because in addition to heartbreak, he made me feel stupid. But he did give me hope that there are awesome, romantic guys in the world who also want to obey God while being awesome. Hunh, I almost said something bitter, but this post is not about being bitter! Um, okay, I'm done with Kevin. That is apparently still a sore topic, and maybe God can enlighten me years from now when I'm not so close to the situation.
And on a completely not-boy level, I realized that recent events have been kicking at my pride. I am a prideful person. That's my sin that I will struggle with probably forever. I don't like when people disagree with me, because obviously I am always right. And I don't like when people tell me what to do or call me out on being selfish. But those darn Newtons do it anyway, like the Bible tells them too. And I appreciate it. I may not like it, but I can see that God has been working on me the past few days, trying to drag me along that sanctification path, whether I want to or not.
So yeah. If you like snarky but authentic spiritual memoirs (and I think you do if you are reading this blog), then you should check out Susan Isaacs. Brilliant.
Agh, I just love it so much! My favorite Christian authors are the ones who are messed up, and will gladly tell you about it. I like Christians who cuss and who question God and who will go anywhere or do anything to catch a glimpse of hope. I like my Tozers and Lewises, don't get me wrong. They speak to me intellectually, and often they do awaken my soul through their brilliance. But authors like Donald Miller and now Susan Isaacs....they make me feel human. They give me hope, because they are screwed up and flawed, but they also love God with a deep and passionate adoration. I relate to them far more, because I am quite screwed up and flawed myself. But I can still love God desperately despite all my problems.
So thanks, Joel! Awesome fantabulous recommendation.
But this isn't just a book rec. I will, of course, apply it to my life, because that's what I do as a soc/psych major. The premise of the book is that the author takes God to couple's counseling. She talks through her life, and then she and God have a hypothetical conversation about what in the world God was doing through the insanity and horror and beauty.
I'm a bit nervous about the wedding next week. I mean, actually I'm not, but I was a couple months ago, and I anticipate another round of nerves hitting before the event. That's because the two boys who wreaked havoc on me emotionally last spring will be at the wedding. If you read my old blog, you know who I mean, because I spent a fairly large amount of text whining and complaining and saying "WHAT IS GOING ON!?"
But I decided to take a look at those situations and see how God used them to help me, even though I'd much rather never met those boys. (Okay, that's not true. They are truly awesome boys, but I wish I hadn't been stupid and allowed myself to get heartbroken.)
So Chris is easy. It only took me a few minutes to see how God used that relationship to help me, even though I had never thought about it before. Since I saw Chris as my brother, but could talk to him about Jesus and life at the same time, he broke apart my idolatry for my biological brother. I had a tendency to hero-worship Roy. I still think he is very awesome, and he has undoubtedly changed what I consider cool and lame. But he's not someone I should admire or mimic. He's not a Christian, and he's not living a life I want to imitate. Being around Chris showed me that my brother is not perfect. I never thought I would lose that idolatry, but....I think I pretty much have. That's kind of huge, if you've heard me rave about Roy.
Kevin is not so easy, because in addition to heartbreak, he made me feel stupid. But he did give me hope that there are awesome, romantic guys in the world who also want to obey God while being awesome. Hunh, I almost said something bitter, but this post is not about being bitter! Um, okay, I'm done with Kevin. That is apparently still a sore topic, and maybe God can enlighten me years from now when I'm not so close to the situation.
And on a completely not-boy level, I realized that recent events have been kicking at my pride. I am a prideful person. That's my sin that I will struggle with probably forever. I don't like when people disagree with me, because obviously I am always right. And I don't like when people tell me what to do or call me out on being selfish. But those darn Newtons do it anyway, like the Bible tells them too. And I appreciate it. I may not like it, but I can see that God has been working on me the past few days, trying to drag me along that sanctification path, whether I want to or not.
So yeah. If you like snarky but authentic spiritual memoirs (and I think you do if you are reading this blog), then you should check out Susan Isaacs. Brilliant.
Problem Solved
So I've been concerned with my blog. I don't like to write about "here's what I did all day every day," because while that was okay when I was in Senegal....I am now writing about my day which likely involved the people who will read about it. It just kind of creeps me out.
Instead, my goal with this new blog was to write about my thoughts and opinions and things. My blog is my journal, pretty much, so I use it to write out my flailing ideas. I don't usually think things through. I just sit down and let my mind wander onto the screen. But that has lately not been awesome, because some of my opinions are inflammatory.
I tampered with the idea of shutting my blog down, because I don't want to mess with offending people and having drama. But then I had a flash of brilliance!
Instead, my goal with this new blog was to write about my thoughts and opinions and things. My blog is my journal, pretty much, so I use it to write out my flailing ideas. I don't usually think things through. I just sit down and let my mind wander onto the screen. But that has lately not been awesome, because some of my opinions are inflammatory.
I tampered with the idea of shutting my blog down, because I don't want to mess with offending people and having drama. But then I had a flash of brilliance!
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Spinning
Last night I read a story that was just brilliantly written. It made me ache to write, which is always bittersweet after reading someone awesome, because I inevitably feel inadequate. So I pushed the feeling down and went to bed. I lay there and remembered the most interesting moment of my day, and unbidden, dialogue and phrases started popping into my brain. I couldn't hold it in any longer, so I got out of bed and wrote this!
“We’ve got food, drink, money. What else can we throw?” Bruce asked. He and Troy and I were brainstorming for a TeamKids game about giving our worries to God.
“We’ve got food, drink, money. What else can we throw?” Bruce asked. He and Troy and I were brainstorming for a TeamKids game about giving our worries to God.
“Ooo! Family. Or friends!” I said.
“Yeah, but how can we throw friends across the gym floor?” Bruce asked. He was being far too pragmatic.
“We should play Throw Tricia,” Troy suggested with a grin.
“Yeah, okay. Dur.” I was a little disturbed by the gleam in Troy’s eyes.
“Cups for drink, spoons for food...” Bruce recited. He stared into the distance before snapping his attention back to us. I figured he had come up with something brilliant. “Okay, but if we threw her, what’s your strategy?”
This was alarming—Bruce joining Troy’s mad idea. I tried to veer the conversation back to the half-planned game we were supposed to play in fifteen minutes.
Troy ignored my feeble words. “I’d grab her arms and swing her around.”
Bruce considered. “That’s almost like my plan. But I think maybe yours is better. Unless you swung her by her feet?”
I held up my hands, surrendering to the subject change but not to the idea of being bodily tossed ten feet onto the gruffly carpeted gym floor. “Heh heh. Not going to happen, guys!”
Troy ignored me again and answered Bruce. “No way! If you grab her feet, her face will drag on the ground. At least if you’ve got her arms her face won’t tear off.”
“Better grip on her feet, though,” Bruce said.
I steeled myself. I had played with boys before. Acting like a wimp would not help me. The only way to get what you wanted with boys was to play along. “But if you have my hands, I can run a bit to get a better takeoff.”
Troy and Bruce looked at me with smiles on their devious faces.
“Then you pretty much choose who you want to win. C’mere.” Bruce grabbed at my hands. A noise that sounded pathetically like “ack!” came out of my throat. I batted his hands away.
“Trust me!” he said.
Sure. The last time a guy said that while holding my hand, I ended up slamming into a wall knees first after scream-flying down a roller skating rink.
I stopped playing along. Obviously that had not had the desired effect. “Seriously. The game?” Bruce and Troy wilted a little and relented. We figured out the rest, and I quickly moved to talk to nearby sane females.
Only a minute had passed when Bruce appeared in front of me. He held out his hands, and I took them. I guess I’m either stupidly trusting, or my short term memory is shot at age twenty-two.
“I promise not to throw you,” was the last thing I heard before he bent down, grabbed me at the knees, and swung me over his shoulder. I had only a moment to realize I was upside-down before he started spinning. I tried not to scream, so I latched my arms around his waist and buried my face in his back. I garbled a prayer mixed with intense supplications for Bruce to stop, but the words got lost in the fabric under my face.
He slowed and then stopped. As he tipped me back onto my feet, a whoof, or maybe a snort, escaped me. I hoped it had been while my face was still buried. I doubted it.
Bruce grinned at me while I picked up the hair that was falling across my face and placed it back where it belonged.
“...That was unexpected,” I finally said.
“See, I think I could throw you further that way,” he said as if the discussion had never ended.
“Or I would fall on my head!” I said.
“Yeah, you’d have to be at an angle. But you’re up higher, so I think you’d really fly.”
I rolled my eyes and tried to hide my smile. Life is so much more interesting when boys are around.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Job Interview
Today I had my first ever interview for a job! Which seems weird since I am 22 and have been working since my teens. But this is how I got my other jobs:
Piano Teacher
Sally: Hey, do you think you would want to teach some students so I don't have to do as much?
Me: Sure.
University Relations Student Assistant
Shari: Do you want to go to my old office? I hear they need new workers.
Me: Sure.
Office: We do need new workers! Do you want to start tomorrow?
Me: Sure.
Dr. Guthrie's Teaching Assistant
Dr. Guthrie: I liked your work this semester. Would you like to be my assistant?
Me: HECK YES I WOULD!
So you can see that I have not had much experience in the whole go-out-and-hunt-down-a-job area. But today that has changed! I am all grown up and such.
I met with a woman at the Dunlap Library for an interview this afternoon. It was very strange. She asked all the typical horrible questions about my strengths, weaknesses, and goals in life. I tried to balance the fact that I love books and I would absolutely love to encourage a new generation to love books too (my job would be the children's program director) with the fact that what I really feel called to do in life is international missions.
But that wasn't the strange part. That came when she sat on the floor and I read three children's books to her, complete with dramatic voices and facial expressions. Very awkward, but I was blown away by the growth of my confidence in that I actually did it without blushing or being lame. Well, I was lame, but in a completely different way. After reading, I had to organize a shelf of mixed-up books according to the Dewey decimal system. Cinch. If there's one thing I learned at University Relations, it's how to quickly organize things.
Anyway, I'd like to get the job. There's a sizable chance that I won't, because one of the other people she's interviewing did this exact same job at another library. That is not encouraging! But honestly, I won't die if I don't get the job. It would be nice if I do, but I trust that God has this all under control.
Piano Teacher
Sally: Hey, do you think you would want to teach some students so I don't have to do as much?
Me: Sure.
University Relations Student Assistant
Shari: Do you want to go to my old office? I hear they need new workers.
Me: Sure.
Office: We do need new workers! Do you want to start tomorrow?
Me: Sure.
Dr. Guthrie's Teaching Assistant
Dr. Guthrie: I liked your work this semester. Would you like to be my assistant?
Me: HECK YES I WOULD!
So you can see that I have not had much experience in the whole go-out-and-hunt-down-a-job area. But today that has changed! I am all grown up and such.
I met with a woman at the Dunlap Library for an interview this afternoon. It was very strange. She asked all the typical horrible questions about my strengths, weaknesses, and goals in life. I tried to balance the fact that I love books and I would absolutely love to encourage a new generation to love books too (my job would be the children's program director) with the fact that what I really feel called to do in life is international missions.
But that wasn't the strange part. That came when she sat on the floor and I read three children's books to her, complete with dramatic voices and facial expressions. Very awkward, but I was blown away by the growth of my confidence in that I actually did it without blushing or being lame. Well, I was lame, but in a completely different way. After reading, I had to organize a shelf of mixed-up books according to the Dewey decimal system. Cinch. If there's one thing I learned at University Relations, it's how to quickly organize things.
Anyway, I'd like to get the job. There's a sizable chance that I won't, because one of the other people she's interviewing did this exact same job at another library. That is not encouraging! But honestly, I won't die if I don't get the job. It would be nice if I do, but I trust that God has this all under control.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Generations
I like who I am quite a bit. I don't mean that to sound boastful, and I really don't think it is. God has made me who I am, and I am pleased! I am not perfect, and I am therefore very excited for God to keep changing me as I follow Him and fall more in love with Him. My life will be awesome, I am sure. I have Jesus, how could it not?
One of my favorite things that God has grown in me is my age-blindness (like color-blindness, but with...age). I credit this to Woodland, where I was shuffled around and forced to hang out with people of all ages until it just became normal. The past few days exemplify this part of my life quite well, I think.
Sunday: David and Scott (teens) poked me in the ribs and threw me across roller skating rinks. I came away bruised but exhilarated.
Monday: I ate lunch with Sarah (30s) and my mom (50s). We talked about travel and culture amazing hotel rates.
Tuesday: I took cookies to Mrs. Hartwig (90). We sat and talked about baked goods and family and languages.
I loved each of those experiences. But I have to say I am very excited for next week, when I will be a part of a big wedding party extravaganza filled with 20-something-year-olds. I love learning from people of different ages, but I do very much love being around people who are of my generational thinking.
It's funny listening to some older people talk about my generation, because in a lot of ways we are looked down upon. And I can understand some of their reasons. But way more than being typecast as selfish and lazy (which we are a lot of times!), I prefer to talk about my generation with my generation. Because there is a pocket of my generation that is simply awesome.
I found that pocket in Turkey, and I changed my college social sphere to get into this awesome group of people. I will defend with my last breath, or printed word, the potential awesomeness of 20-something-year-olds. We are passionate, and we are not afraid to think big and think boldly. We are not afraid to give up our lives and our families and our friends for God. We want to change the way our generation is perceived, to rise above the way we were raised to become a mighty force for God.
It's far more encouraging to talk to my friends than it (sometimes) is talking to older people. I suppose we all think our own generation is best. Probably we all have something to learn from each other, which is why I enjoy hanging out with people of different ages. But I like the passion of my age group. I like that we are turning things on their heads. I like that we want a revolution.
Good times, good times.
One of my favorite things that God has grown in me is my age-blindness (like color-blindness, but with...age). I credit this to Woodland, where I was shuffled around and forced to hang out with people of all ages until it just became normal. The past few days exemplify this part of my life quite well, I think.
Sunday: David and Scott (teens) poked me in the ribs and threw me across roller skating rinks. I came away bruised but exhilarated.
Monday: I ate lunch with Sarah (30s) and my mom (50s). We talked about travel and culture amazing hotel rates.
Tuesday: I took cookies to Mrs. Hartwig (90). We sat and talked about baked goods and family and languages.
I loved each of those experiences. But I have to say I am very excited for next week, when I will be a part of a big wedding party extravaganza filled with 20-something-year-olds. I love learning from people of different ages, but I do very much love being around people who are of my generational thinking.
It's funny listening to some older people talk about my generation, because in a lot of ways we are looked down upon. And I can understand some of their reasons. But way more than being typecast as selfish and lazy (which we are a lot of times!), I prefer to talk about my generation with my generation. Because there is a pocket of my generation that is simply awesome.
I found that pocket in Turkey, and I changed my college social sphere to get into this awesome group of people. I will defend with my last breath, or printed word, the potential awesomeness of 20-something-year-olds. We are passionate, and we are not afraid to think big and think boldly. We are not afraid to give up our lives and our families and our friends for God. We want to change the way our generation is perceived, to rise above the way we were raised to become a mighty force for God.
It's far more encouraging to talk to my friends than it (sometimes) is talking to older people. I suppose we all think our own generation is best. Probably we all have something to learn from each other, which is why I enjoy hanging out with people of different ages. But I like the passion of my age group. I like that we are turning things on their heads. I like that we want a revolution.
Good times, good times.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Was I Effective in Sengal?
Three posts in one day! I still hold to the fact that I have creative bipolar disorder, and this is a sure sign that I am hitting my mania stage.
But this post is not going to be so much manic as it will be introspective. Because before I regained my optimism and happiness, I spent a good while being really blegh and semi-depressed. The imminent arrival of my replacements in Fatick got me thinking of all the ways they will be more awesome and more effective than me. I thought about how much God, the Forsythes, and Holly would like them more than me. I was pretty confident Liz would still love me best. (I am always torn between wanting her to be happy and love her new roommates while simultaneously wandering around our house, tearing her hair, pouring ashes on her head, and bemoaning my absence.)
Anyway, all my insecurities prompted me to evaluate my time in Senegal. So here goes.
First, I think it bears noting that this was the first time I lived in a different culture for an extended period of time. A culture that I actively disliked before I even arrived. So I think the fact that I went from dreading leaving the house to visit people to actually enjoying and looking forward to seeing my friends is a huge accomplishment.
I'm going to quote Liz here, because I think she perfectly described this in her goodbye letter to me. It feels slightly....voyeuristic to share from that awesome letter, but this part is not so personal and lovely. "I loved getting to see Senegal, and Fatick, and everyone we met just slowly but surely win you over. I remember one day we were on the moto and you like sighed and said that you were going to miss it here, and my little heart just got so happy. I loved getting to see all your Senegalese friends give you gifts and yell at you to stay."
Relatedly, I think I did an awesome job of expanding the number of contacts the Forsythes and Liz and Holly have to build on relationally. While Liz took care of the established English clubs, I met with four students and started talking to them about the Bible. I don't think they are anywhere near understanding or wanting to know Jesus, but I planted those seeds. I'm incredibly proud of that, and I'm excited to see Liz and Holly, and now Mallory, and soon the new Hands On girls take those relationships, grow them, and branch out from them.
I made friends with Lamba, Mame Codou, Bigue, and Sylvia all on my own. I find that rather incredible, considering I was only there for five months, it took me three months to feel comfortable in Fatick, and there was a very small percentage of my day in which I wasn't with Liz. I felt like such a native, such a success, when I was the one who invited Liz to hang out with my new friend. I never expected that to happen.
And speaking of feeling like a native, it was so awesome to get to the point where I could go out on my own, travel to the other side of town by walking or by moto taxi, and manage completely by myself. Honestly, getting lost was something of a triumph for me. It necessitated asking strangers where my friends lived, or where I could buy phone credit. I had to greet and carry on (short) conversations with everyone I passed.
Which brings me to language. Yeah, I wish I'd prepared for the trip better. I don't know why it didn't sink in that I was going to a French speaking country until I got there and discovered that that meant, actually, people spoke French instead of English. I hope next time I'm in a similar situation that I will be more proactive in acquiring the language.
But I'm proud of what I accomplished. I went to Senegal knowing no French besides "bonjour" and absolutely no Sereer or Wolof. I had ten days of French lessons before being left to my own devices to learn three new languages, and I am neither a self-starting learner nor very interested in languages. But I left being able to carry on a stilted conversation in French. I could buy things in the market and haggle in French. I could hail a cab and direct the driver in French. I learned greetings in Wolof and Sereer, as well as a smattering of other random words. I even learned a few words in Pular and Japanese. I think that's quite good for my first time living outside the United States.
Most of all, I think I was effective in being an encouragement to the long term missionaries in Fatick. That was my goal going in, anyway. I knew that there was only so much I could do in five months. I like to think that I encouraged the Forsythes and Holly, but I am positive that I encouraged Liz. Our morning breakfasts were awesome, and we both grew in our understanding of God. We talked about Him and how His world works a huge amount of the time.
Yes, we had fun. We made dance videos. We watched TV shows. When we were in Dakar, we chose restaurants that were delicious because it was the only time we could eat without preparing the food for an hour or more beforehand. But I think those fun times were just as encouraging as our spiritual discussions. I know that Liz had been lonely before I came, living by herself on the other side of Fatick. I think being a Christian community, of loving and fellowshipping with one another, is a vital part of being a Christian. I think the simple act of living together, of entertaining each other, was an important part of why God sent me to Fatick.
Do I have regrets? Of course. I wish I had prayed for people explicitly. I wish when people asked me why I was there, I jumped to tell them about how much I love Jesus and I followed Him to Fatick because He asked me to.
But again, when I think about who I was before going--I mean, I've always been awful at evangelizing. I am a painfully self-conscious person. I'm obsessed with what people think of me, and that makes it very difficult to share my faith with people when I'm not sure how they will react. But by the time I left Senegal, I had shared my faith in front of little children and teachers during an Operation Christmas Child project. I had shared Bible stories with high school students, and talked to them about how awesome my God is, and I gave them Bibles to keep and to read.
Overall, I think my first venture into missions was a success. I think God sent me there for a reason, and I am confident that He is proud of me. I am pleased by the progress I made, emotionally, intellectually, culturally, and most importantly, spiritually. I grew a lot in Fatick. Whatever failings I had, I give them up. I'm not going to beat myself up for not being the best. I got better while I was there, and I am proud of the work that God did in my life. I am convinced that the only feeling I need to have about my failings is excitement, because I'm confident that those are the things God will tackle in the future.
But this post is not going to be so much manic as it will be introspective. Because before I regained my optimism and happiness, I spent a good while being really blegh and semi-depressed. The imminent arrival of my replacements in Fatick got me thinking of all the ways they will be more awesome and more effective than me. I thought about how much God, the Forsythes, and Holly would like them more than me. I was pretty confident Liz would still love me best. (I am always torn between wanting her to be happy and love her new roommates while simultaneously wandering around our house, tearing her hair, pouring ashes on her head, and bemoaning my absence.)
Anyway, all my insecurities prompted me to evaluate my time in Senegal. So here goes.
First, I think it bears noting that this was the first time I lived in a different culture for an extended period of time. A culture that I actively disliked before I even arrived. So I think the fact that I went from dreading leaving the house to visit people to actually enjoying and looking forward to seeing my friends is a huge accomplishment.
I'm going to quote Liz here, because I think she perfectly described this in her goodbye letter to me. It feels slightly....voyeuristic to share from that awesome letter, but this part is not so personal and lovely. "I loved getting to see Senegal, and Fatick, and everyone we met just slowly but surely win you over. I remember one day we were on the moto and you like sighed and said that you were going to miss it here, and my little heart just got so happy. I loved getting to see all your Senegalese friends give you gifts and yell at you to stay."
Relatedly, I think I did an awesome job of expanding the number of contacts the Forsythes and Liz and Holly have to build on relationally. While Liz took care of the established English clubs, I met with four students and started talking to them about the Bible. I don't think they are anywhere near understanding or wanting to know Jesus, but I planted those seeds. I'm incredibly proud of that, and I'm excited to see Liz and Holly, and now Mallory, and soon the new Hands On girls take those relationships, grow them, and branch out from them.
I made friends with Lamba, Mame Codou, Bigue, and Sylvia all on my own. I find that rather incredible, considering I was only there for five months, it took me three months to feel comfortable in Fatick, and there was a very small percentage of my day in which I wasn't with Liz. I felt like such a native, such a success, when I was the one who invited Liz to hang out with my new friend. I never expected that to happen.
And speaking of feeling like a native, it was so awesome to get to the point where I could go out on my own, travel to the other side of town by walking or by moto taxi, and manage completely by myself. Honestly, getting lost was something of a triumph for me. It necessitated asking strangers where my friends lived, or where I could buy phone credit. I had to greet and carry on (short) conversations with everyone I passed.
Which brings me to language. Yeah, I wish I'd prepared for the trip better. I don't know why it didn't sink in that I was going to a French speaking country until I got there and discovered that that meant, actually, people spoke French instead of English. I hope next time I'm in a similar situation that I will be more proactive in acquiring the language.
But I'm proud of what I accomplished. I went to Senegal knowing no French besides "bonjour" and absolutely no Sereer or Wolof. I had ten days of French lessons before being left to my own devices to learn three new languages, and I am neither a self-starting learner nor very interested in languages. But I left being able to carry on a stilted conversation in French. I could buy things in the market and haggle in French. I could hail a cab and direct the driver in French. I learned greetings in Wolof and Sereer, as well as a smattering of other random words. I even learned a few words in Pular and Japanese. I think that's quite good for my first time living outside the United States.
Most of all, I think I was effective in being an encouragement to the long term missionaries in Fatick. That was my goal going in, anyway. I knew that there was only so much I could do in five months. I like to think that I encouraged the Forsythes and Holly, but I am positive that I encouraged Liz. Our morning breakfasts were awesome, and we both grew in our understanding of God. We talked about Him and how His world works a huge amount of the time.
Yes, we had fun. We made dance videos. We watched TV shows. When we were in Dakar, we chose restaurants that were delicious because it was the only time we could eat without preparing the food for an hour or more beforehand. But I think those fun times were just as encouraging as our spiritual discussions. I know that Liz had been lonely before I came, living by herself on the other side of Fatick. I think being a Christian community, of loving and fellowshipping with one another, is a vital part of being a Christian. I think the simple act of living together, of entertaining each other, was an important part of why God sent me to Fatick.
Do I have regrets? Of course. I wish I had prayed for people explicitly. I wish when people asked me why I was there, I jumped to tell them about how much I love Jesus and I followed Him to Fatick because He asked me to.
But again, when I think about who I was before going--I mean, I've always been awful at evangelizing. I am a painfully self-conscious person. I'm obsessed with what people think of me, and that makes it very difficult to share my faith with people when I'm not sure how they will react. But by the time I left Senegal, I had shared my faith in front of little children and teachers during an Operation Christmas Child project. I had shared Bible stories with high school students, and talked to them about how awesome my God is, and I gave them Bibles to keep and to read.
Overall, I think my first venture into missions was a success. I think God sent me there for a reason, and I am confident that He is proud of me. I am pleased by the progress I made, emotionally, intellectually, culturally, and most importantly, spiritually. I grew a lot in Fatick. Whatever failings I had, I give them up. I'm not going to beat myself up for not being the best. I got better while I was there, and I am proud of the work that God did in my life. I am convinced that the only feeling I need to have about my failings is excitement, because I'm confident that those are the things God will tackle in the future.
My Mother
My mother and I have a weird relationship, in that we get along pretty much all of the time. I credit that to the fact that she doesn't act like my mother. How's that for parenting advice?
Today we went to see Despicable Me, and before the show started, they showed that "Take noisy children to the lobby" bit. My mom leaned over and whispered, "Are you going to be noisy?" I leaned back and said, "I think we both know you are the child of this relationship." Which she did not deny! Or agree.
But I think I was proved right when at the end of the movie, the part I had laughed hardest at was this exchange:
Adorable child: Will you read us a bedtime story?
Despicable man: No.
Adorable child: Pretty please?
Despicable man: The physical condition of the please makes no difference.
And the part that had my mom busting out laughing? When the minions photo-copied their butts.
And that's my mother, ladies and gentlemen! I'm rather fond of her. (hi, mom!)
Today we went to see Despicable Me, and before the show started, they showed that "Take noisy children to the lobby" bit. My mom leaned over and whispered, "Are you going to be noisy?" I leaned back and said, "I think we both know you are the child of this relationship." Which she did not deny! Or agree.
But I think I was proved right when at the end of the movie, the part I had laughed hardest at was this exchange:
Adorable child: Will you read us a bedtime story?
Despicable man: No.
Adorable child: Pretty please?
Despicable man: The physical condition of the please makes no difference.
And the part that had my mom busting out laughing? When the minions photo-copied their butts.
And that's my mother, ladies and gentlemen! I'm rather fond of her. (hi, mom!)
Serving God in Peoria
I am a junior high Sunday School teacher! Which is ironic if you know me, because I have always said I hate teaching, and if I were forced to do so, junior high would be the last age I would want to teach. God really likes to throw me into the things I don't want to do. But I feel this is a story worth telling in its entirety, so let's start 10 years ago.
When I was in 8th grade, I was the only girl my age who consistently went to church. Since I was already very shy, that meant I never spoke in Sunday School and it was always horribly stressful, what with all those boys around. But God was awesome, and He used Wendy's high school girls Sunday School class to kidnap me so regularly that eventually I joined her class a year early. It was the best thing that could have happened to me. From there, Wendy and Sarah and Lindsay became my friends, and they spent time with me and hung out with me, inside and outside of church. I think I matured so quickly and developed a love for God directly because I had older friends.
Fast forward to Senegal. As my time was winding down, and I suddenly realized that I had to figure out what to do in Peoria, I prayed for God to reveal what He wanted me to do. The first thing that came to mind was that I should be a friendship/mentor to junior high girls just as Sarah and Lindsay had been to me.
But when I got to Peoria, I found this was much harder to execute than imagine. Do I walk up to girls and say, "Hello, I'm Tricia, and I'll be your mentor now!" Awkward. So I've stuck to Abby M., who is already awesome and my friend, but I just didn't know how to reach out to other girls without seeming like a creeper.
(This is maybe a good place to explain something else. While I was in Senegal, I had all these ideas for ways to serve God in Peoria. Then when I got to Peoria, I put them on the backburner and devoted the majority of my thoughts and actions to pursuing the next step--where I'll go after Peoria. I think one of the main reasons God told me to back off applications, in addition to trusting Him to provide that next step, is so that I will put my full energy into serving Him where I am.)
Okay, so now we jump to the 15-hour drive from Williamsburg, VA to Peoria. My mom and I were talking, and she mentioned that Steve no longer had an assistant in his junior high Sunday School class. I quickly realized that this could be the perfect opportunity to develop relationships with girls that age, so I emailed Steve last Monday. On Wednesday he wrote back saying it would be great, so long as our church administrator approved. I asked Mark on Thursday, and he also agreed to it. I figured maybe I would talk with Steve a bit, then start in a few weeks when I return from Memphis/Savannah. Nope. Friday night Steve emailed again and invited me to come to class this Sunday. Yesterday!
Only then did I realize that I had just volunteered to teach Sunday School to junior high kids. Oh, God, you are so so funny.
Luckily, I think this will be another Senegal moment. Of course it is, because whenever it's God who takes me somewhere I don't want to go, it always turns out awesome, because God knows what He's doing. Yesterday's class was brilliant. I love Steve, and I'm excited to learn from him and become as much like him as possible. The kids are hilarious, and while they can get crazy on a drug-induced level, I find I already love them.
We talked about the prodigal son, but really about his older brother. We talked about approaching God with humility, and what that means. And also the kids used crazy accents and acted it all out with rope costumes and giggles and bottled cheese. And then we played tug of war before praying, which is how all Sunday School classes should end.
When I was in 8th grade, I was the only girl my age who consistently went to church. Since I was already very shy, that meant I never spoke in Sunday School and it was always horribly stressful, what with all those boys around. But God was awesome, and He used Wendy's high school girls Sunday School class to kidnap me so regularly that eventually I joined her class a year early. It was the best thing that could have happened to me. From there, Wendy and Sarah and Lindsay became my friends, and they spent time with me and hung out with me, inside and outside of church. I think I matured so quickly and developed a love for God directly because I had older friends.
Fast forward to Senegal. As my time was winding down, and I suddenly realized that I had to figure out what to do in Peoria, I prayed for God to reveal what He wanted me to do. The first thing that came to mind was that I should be a friendship/mentor to junior high girls just as Sarah and Lindsay had been to me.
But when I got to Peoria, I found this was much harder to execute than imagine. Do I walk up to girls and say, "Hello, I'm Tricia, and I'll be your mentor now!" Awkward. So I've stuck to Abby M., who is already awesome and my friend, but I just didn't know how to reach out to other girls without seeming like a creeper.
(This is maybe a good place to explain something else. While I was in Senegal, I had all these ideas for ways to serve God in Peoria. Then when I got to Peoria, I put them on the backburner and devoted the majority of my thoughts and actions to pursuing the next step--where I'll go after Peoria. I think one of the main reasons God told me to back off applications, in addition to trusting Him to provide that next step, is so that I will put my full energy into serving Him where I am.)
Okay, so now we jump to the 15-hour drive from Williamsburg, VA to Peoria. My mom and I were talking, and she mentioned that Steve no longer had an assistant in his junior high Sunday School class. I quickly realized that this could be the perfect opportunity to develop relationships with girls that age, so I emailed Steve last Monday. On Wednesday he wrote back saying it would be great, so long as our church administrator approved. I asked Mark on Thursday, and he also agreed to it. I figured maybe I would talk with Steve a bit, then start in a few weeks when I return from Memphis/Savannah. Nope. Friday night Steve emailed again and invited me to come to class this Sunday. Yesterday!
Only then did I realize that I had just volunteered to teach Sunday School to junior high kids. Oh, God, you are so so funny.
Luckily, I think this will be another Senegal moment. Of course it is, because whenever it's God who takes me somewhere I don't want to go, it always turns out awesome, because God knows what He's doing. Yesterday's class was brilliant. I love Steve, and I'm excited to learn from him and become as much like him as possible. The kids are hilarious, and while they can get crazy on a drug-induced level, I find I already love them.
We talked about the prodigal son, but really about his older brother. We talked about approaching God with humility, and what that means. And also the kids used crazy accents and acted it all out with rope costumes and giggles and bottled cheese. And then we played tug of war before praying, which is how all Sunday School classes should end.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Friendship *heart heart gagging sentimentality*
I love friends! Like, really really love them. I've been in a bit of a funk lately, and today I just kind of monotonously cooked and baked and planned something really awesome of which I cannot mention. But I planned with funk.
And then Stephanie called! And I got to pour out my heart, and she listened and corrected and validated me. And then we laughed forever and ever, and I'm really crazy excited for our honeymoon after Erin and Tim's wedding. (And Erin and Tim's wedding! I'm so crazy excited for that!)
And then Jennie facebooked me an epic message! And she corrected and validated me! I apparently really like that combination in my friends.
So anyway, in light of that, I thought I'd talk about friendships. I've never really thought of myself as very good at them. All through grade school, I was painfully shy, but God forced me out of my shell by consistently taking away my friends. Seriously, I made friends in kindergarten, and none of them were in my first grade class. I made new friends that year, but none of them were in my second grade class. And on and on until in fourth grade, I was literally in one class, and all the friends I'd yet made were together in the other class.
But somehow, I have ended up with awesome friends! It is no exaggeration to say that Turkey changed my life. If Stephanie and Erin were not a part of my life, I would be a completely different person.
And Jennie! The fact that we are friends is so completely because of God. I can remember the exact moment, throwing myself around my Walker Rd apartment because we'd been denied staying off campus the next semester, when I felt God tell me to ask Jennie and Dusty if I could move in with them. I almost didn't because it seemed rude, but I did, and they agreed, and thus a beautiful friendship was born!
Maybe now I have found the point of my post! My best friends are the ones that were given to me by God. I barely talked to Erin in Turkey, but we kept getting thrown together when we got back on campus, and eventually we moved in together, and she was largely responsible for teaching me how to be a godly and spiritual roommate.
Stephanie and I bonded during a Turkey meeting over a shared love of TV shows, but it was God who kept bringing us together, who turned our superficial friendship into something much deeper. I love her because we can build a fort in my living room, then climb inside and discuss what it means to follow God when your life plans turn out to be different from His or when He's calling you overseas.
I love my friends. My heart bursts when I think of them. Liz and I (hey, another one of my best friends!) used to talk about how C.S. Lewis had it right, because friendship love is the bomb, and deserves way more attention than it gets, because romantic love far too often hogs the spotlight.
I digress. I love my friends!
EDITED TO ADD:
Jennie is writing more brilliance in my facebook messages, and I just had to write this on my blog for posterity (since I am a big dork and I love rereading my blogs...someday I will see this and coo at Jennie's insightfulness). She said that the way I am feeling is likely post-mission trip backlash, but it's the way she described my feelings that made my jaw drop. She gets me. There is no better feeling than to be known by another human being.
"I know that you're in limbo right now, and your head is just jumbled with where to go, and what to do, and wishing you were in Senegal, and loving being here with all the comforts, but knowing that you're not supposed to enjoy those forever, and wondering where to go, and what you're supposed to do, and if you'll get married, and if you even want to get married, and if you have kids how you'll pay for them, and trying not to offend anyone, but still speaking your mind."
And then Stephanie called! And I got to pour out my heart, and she listened and corrected and validated me. And then we laughed forever and ever, and I'm really crazy excited for our honeymoon after Erin and Tim's wedding. (And Erin and Tim's wedding! I'm so crazy excited for that!)
And then Jennie facebooked me an epic message! And she corrected and validated me! I apparently really like that combination in my friends.
So anyway, in light of that, I thought I'd talk about friendships. I've never really thought of myself as very good at them. All through grade school, I was painfully shy, but God forced me out of my shell by consistently taking away my friends. Seriously, I made friends in kindergarten, and none of them were in my first grade class. I made new friends that year, but none of them were in my second grade class. And on and on until in fourth grade, I was literally in one class, and all the friends I'd yet made were together in the other class.
But somehow, I have ended up with awesome friends! It is no exaggeration to say that Turkey changed my life. If Stephanie and Erin were not a part of my life, I would be a completely different person.
And Jennie! The fact that we are friends is so completely because of God. I can remember the exact moment, throwing myself around my Walker Rd apartment because we'd been denied staying off campus the next semester, when I felt God tell me to ask Jennie and Dusty if I could move in with them. I almost didn't because it seemed rude, but I did, and they agreed, and thus a beautiful friendship was born!
Maybe now I have found the point of my post! My best friends are the ones that were given to me by God. I barely talked to Erin in Turkey, but we kept getting thrown together when we got back on campus, and eventually we moved in together, and she was largely responsible for teaching me how to be a godly and spiritual roommate.
Stephanie and I bonded during a Turkey meeting over a shared love of TV shows, but it was God who kept bringing us together, who turned our superficial friendship into something much deeper. I love her because we can build a fort in my living room, then climb inside and discuss what it means to follow God when your life plans turn out to be different from His or when He's calling you overseas.
I love my friends. My heart bursts when I think of them. Liz and I (hey, another one of my best friends!) used to talk about how C.S. Lewis had it right, because friendship love is the bomb, and deserves way more attention than it gets, because romantic love far too often hogs the spotlight.
I digress. I love my friends!
EDITED TO ADD:
Jennie is writing more brilliance in my facebook messages, and I just had to write this on my blog for posterity (since I am a big dork and I love rereading my blogs...someday I will see this and coo at Jennie's insightfulness). She said that the way I am feeling is likely post-mission trip backlash, but it's the way she described my feelings that made my jaw drop. She gets me. There is no better feeling than to be known by another human being.
"I know that you're in limbo right now, and your head is just jumbled with where to go, and what to do, and wishing you were in Senegal, and loving being here with all the comforts, but knowing that you're not supposed to enjoy those forever, and wondering where to go, and what you're supposed to do, and if you'll get married, and if you even want to get married, and if you have kids how you'll pay for them, and trying not to offend anyone, but still speaking your mind."
Questions and Songs about Love
It is interesting to me that no one has asked me whether I have a boyfriend since I've been home. I guess that is because I have been in Africa, and people just assume there are not boyfriends there. Also some people stalk me on my blog and read of no such thing.
It is infinitely nicer to come home from Africa than to come home from college. I absolutely dreaded conversations that inevitably included, "So, do you have a boyfriend? *nudge nudge wink wink*" and would likely lead to "Why not?" when I said no. What obnoxious questions.
While talking with Holly one day after getting lost around Mame Codou's house, I decided that if someone ever asked me "why not?" again, I would ask "Why should I?" Gutted! But unfortunately, no one has given me the opportunity to be snarky. And I wanted to, on behalf of all us poor single people who feel looked down upon by people's condescending and inadvertently (I hope inadvertently) insulting questions.
And anyway, all this is actually because I was watching through some of my favorite vlogger's vlogs, and I restumbled across his awesome song.
Oh, charlieissocoollike, I love you and your songs about love. Way to be awesome and express the feelings I have when I am sane and not overcome by societal expectations.
It is infinitely nicer to come home from Africa than to come home from college. I absolutely dreaded conversations that inevitably included, "So, do you have a boyfriend? *nudge nudge wink wink*" and would likely lead to "Why not?" when I said no. What obnoxious questions.
While talking with Holly one day after getting lost around Mame Codou's house, I decided that if someone ever asked me "why not?" again, I would ask "Why should I?" Gutted! But unfortunately, no one has given me the opportunity to be snarky. And I wanted to, on behalf of all us poor single people who feel looked down upon by people's condescending and inadvertently (I hope inadvertently) insulting questions.
And anyway, all this is actually because I was watching through some of my favorite vlogger's vlogs, and I restumbled across his awesome song.
Oh, charlieissocoollike, I love you and your songs about love. Way to be awesome and express the feelings I have when I am sane and not overcome by societal expectations.
This is a song about love, and not a very good one
I don’t know enough to tell you about heartbreak
But I know it’s there, and you can avoid it
By listening to your head
Which is just what I’ve done, and it isn’t perfect
But look what I’ve done instead, instead of falling for you
I’ve never really been in love and that is fine by me
I’ll sit at home and refine the person I want to be
‘Cause I’m still young and not yet prepared to waste my time
On chasing girls who are yet to fully form their minds
And I know that there’s a woman waiting, but she’s not a woman yet
So I’ll wait, and make sure I don’t do something I’ll regret
Friday, July 16, 2010
Missing my Third Home
Senegal has been all up in my face this week. I had a meeting on Wednesday for our trip in November. SO EXCITED. I talked to Liz on skype, and I love those conversations that explode with excitement and maintain the same intensity for an hour. I miss my kindred spirit. I ate breakfast at Lindsay's, and we talked about how she may or may not be a missionary in Senegal someday. Tonight the Forsythes called me but I didn't have my phone, and when I called back, Kim and the three youngest kids were watching a movie at 11:30 p.m. I love their awesomeness.
I just very much miss them. I guess I've hit that point where I am used to America, and the novelty and air conditioning is wearing off. I've been away from Fatick long enough to know what I'm missing, and I no longer have vacations to distract me (well, until the 26th).
I want to go back. Listening to what Liz is doing made me positively ache to join her. I even want to lug those horrible gas bottles around town, if that's what it takes. I miss the kids. I miss Nate and his hilarious sense of smirky humor. I miss Melody and her adorable habit of being the most kind and considerate hostess I've ever met under the age of 10. I miss Ethan and his weird combination of little manly man who cries at movies and TV shows. I miss Mbagnik and his cuddlyness. I miss Kim, who even on the phone seemed to be pulling at me to emotionally vomit all over her. I mean that in the best way, because I used to tell her all my life plans, and she would advise me and love me while cracking jokes and loving Jesus.
*sigh*
After Turkey, Erin started using LOST to voice our emotions, claiming that "We have to go back!" perfectly summed up our trip. I think I'm going to have to hijack that statement and make it apply to Senegal too.
I just very much miss them. I guess I've hit that point where I am used to America, and the novelty and air conditioning is wearing off. I've been away from Fatick long enough to know what I'm missing, and I no longer have vacations to distract me (well, until the 26th).
I want to go back. Listening to what Liz is doing made me positively ache to join her. I even want to lug those horrible gas bottles around town, if that's what it takes. I miss the kids. I miss Nate and his hilarious sense of smirky humor. I miss Melody and her adorable habit of being the most kind and considerate hostess I've ever met under the age of 10. I miss Ethan and his weird combination of little manly man who cries at movies and TV shows. I miss Mbagnik and his cuddlyness. I miss Kim, who even on the phone seemed to be pulling at me to emotionally vomit all over her. I mean that in the best way, because I used to tell her all my life plans, and she would advise me and love me while cracking jokes and loving Jesus.
*sigh*
After Turkey, Erin started using LOST to voice our emotions, claiming that "We have to go back!" perfectly summed up our trip. I think I'm going to have to hijack that statement and make it apply to Senegal too.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Clarification
Someone I care about commented on my habit of disliking America, so I thought I would address it.
I'm not at all saying that America is an awful country. I'm grateful to have been born here.
I am a react-er. I react to things. Reverse psychology works on me extremely well. So I know that a large part of my dislike of America is a reaction to the (what I perceive as) over-love of America.
I'll be more specific about what I don't like about the United States. And I'm not at all saying that these problems don't exist in other countries.
I don't like the general sense of American superiority. A lot of people I know are incredibly ethnocentric. Of course not everyone. Of course people of other countries are ethnocentric. But I don't like it. I have been to many places around the world, and I think other places do certain things very well--better than America. Whether it's the awesome public transportation of Germany or the awesome social cohesion of Fatick, there are things that the United States could learn. Unfortunately, I feel that many people are unwilling to accept that the United States is anything but the best. If you don't know anyone like that, awesome. I do.
I don't like the materialism that is rampant in the United States. I used to own an insane amount of books. I still own far too many movies and TV shows. There are a lot of clothes in my closet that maybe get worn twice a year. My family tends to replace cars before it's actually necessary. I have too much stuff. I hate that. I am trying to change that. And I hate that I live in a culture where a typical social activity is shopping. I hate that advertising teaches us to think our lives will be better if we just buy some special product. Of course other countries do the same thing, but it doesn't make it okay that America is so obsessed with things.
I don't like the ridiculous obsession Americans have with looks. I hate that I feel ugly if I leave the house without makeup. I resent the fact that magazines and TV shows are plastered with unrealistically skinny people. I hate that a person's worth is often perceived as being synonymous with their weight. Do other countries do the same thing? Naturally. Some even switch the weight issue around. But I still don't like it in America.
I don't like the hypocrisy of our history. We fought for freedom, and then kept slaves. We made insane rules guarding against immigrants for centuries. We have exploited the immigrants we do allow in the country, and we abuse the illegal foreigners we claim to not want. For a land of freedom, we sure oppress, and have oppressed, a whole lot of people.
And I don't like the way Christianity works in America. I hate that it is often a social event instead of a radical lifestyle. I resent the fact that I grew up thinking following rules was an important step to salvation. I hate the way many Christians react to people with hate instead of love. I hate that people can call themselves Christians, and think they are saved, but never live one day of their lives serving Jesus. I hate that worship services have become an entertainment venue. Is Woodland like this? Not completely. I like Woodland a lot, if you haven't noticed previous raves on my blog. But I do not think Woodland is perfect. And I think a lot of churches throughout the United States are even less perfect.
It is my understanding that as a Christian, I am called to leave behind my citizenship of this world. I do not think that we will stand around in heaven claiming what country we were born in. I'm grateful that God created me in a country where I could hear about Him at a young age. I believe He did that so I could spend as much of my life as possible going to other countries to talk about Him, with the added bonus of having connections to people who are willing to give away the money God has given them through the American economy. This is a definite awesome thing about being from the United States. But my allegiance is to God and His kingdom, and I have a huge problem with people who put America before God, whether explicitly or implicitly.
I hate making all these caveats, but again, I'm not saying all Americans are like that. I know many Christians who love God and also have a healthy love for America. I am not one of them. When I see social ills, I react with extreme emotion. There's a good reason I chose to major in sociology.
And when I say I want to escape to another country, it isn't because I think every other country is better than America. I know that every country and every city is imperfect. Everywhere has its problems. But when I live as a foreigner, I feel less bound by cultural rules. Living in Senegal meant I didn't have to live as an American, but I didn't have to live as Senegalese either. I am free to mold my life around Christian culture without being overwhelmed by my home culture.
Anyway, hope that helps. I don't expect you to agree with me, but maybe now you know why I say the things I say. You can love America. I just don't all that much.
I'm not at all saying that America is an awful country. I'm grateful to have been born here.
I am a react-er. I react to things. Reverse psychology works on me extremely well. So I know that a large part of my dislike of America is a reaction to the (what I perceive as) over-love of America.
I'll be more specific about what I don't like about the United States. And I'm not at all saying that these problems don't exist in other countries.
I don't like the general sense of American superiority. A lot of people I know are incredibly ethnocentric. Of course not everyone. Of course people of other countries are ethnocentric. But I don't like it. I have been to many places around the world, and I think other places do certain things very well--better than America. Whether it's the awesome public transportation of Germany or the awesome social cohesion of Fatick, there are things that the United States could learn. Unfortunately, I feel that many people are unwilling to accept that the United States is anything but the best. If you don't know anyone like that, awesome. I do.
I don't like the materialism that is rampant in the United States. I used to own an insane amount of books. I still own far too many movies and TV shows. There are a lot of clothes in my closet that maybe get worn twice a year. My family tends to replace cars before it's actually necessary. I have too much stuff. I hate that. I am trying to change that. And I hate that I live in a culture where a typical social activity is shopping. I hate that advertising teaches us to think our lives will be better if we just buy some special product. Of course other countries do the same thing, but it doesn't make it okay that America is so obsessed with things.
I don't like the ridiculous obsession Americans have with looks. I hate that I feel ugly if I leave the house without makeup. I resent the fact that magazines and TV shows are plastered with unrealistically skinny people. I hate that a person's worth is often perceived as being synonymous with their weight. Do other countries do the same thing? Naturally. Some even switch the weight issue around. But I still don't like it in America.
I don't like the hypocrisy of our history. We fought for freedom, and then kept slaves. We made insane rules guarding against immigrants for centuries. We have exploited the immigrants we do allow in the country, and we abuse the illegal foreigners we claim to not want. For a land of freedom, we sure oppress, and have oppressed, a whole lot of people.
And I don't like the way Christianity works in America. I hate that it is often a social event instead of a radical lifestyle. I resent the fact that I grew up thinking following rules was an important step to salvation. I hate the way many Christians react to people with hate instead of love. I hate that people can call themselves Christians, and think they are saved, but never live one day of their lives serving Jesus. I hate that worship services have become an entertainment venue. Is Woodland like this? Not completely. I like Woodland a lot, if you haven't noticed previous raves on my blog. But I do not think Woodland is perfect. And I think a lot of churches throughout the United States are even less perfect.
It is my understanding that as a Christian, I am called to leave behind my citizenship of this world. I do not think that we will stand around in heaven claiming what country we were born in. I'm grateful that God created me in a country where I could hear about Him at a young age. I believe He did that so I could spend as much of my life as possible going to other countries to talk about Him, with the added bonus of having connections to people who are willing to give away the money God has given them through the American economy. This is a definite awesome thing about being from the United States. But my allegiance is to God and His kingdom, and I have a huge problem with people who put America before God, whether explicitly or implicitly.
I hate making all these caveats, but again, I'm not saying all Americans are like that. I know many Christians who love God and also have a healthy love for America. I am not one of them. When I see social ills, I react with extreme emotion. There's a good reason I chose to major in sociology.
And when I say I want to escape to another country, it isn't because I think every other country is better than America. I know that every country and every city is imperfect. Everywhere has its problems. But when I live as a foreigner, I feel less bound by cultural rules. Living in Senegal meant I didn't have to live as an American, but I didn't have to live as Senegalese either. I am free to mold my life around Christian culture without being overwhelmed by my home culture.
Anyway, hope that helps. I don't expect you to agree with me, but maybe now you know why I say the things I say. You can love America. I just don't all that much.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
More Thoughts on Marriage
I don't know why I write about this so much, when it's not like the issue of marriage is of any relevant concern to my life. But even though it looks like I will be remaining single for quite a while yet, I have some more thoughts on my own vacillating opinion of marriage.
1) During the church mission trip, I had the awesome opportunity to hang out with a young woman who is serving as a career missionary. As she so wonderfully said when interrupting a purity class: "I'm 33 and still a virgin. I'm not sure what I can contribute." Anyway, seeing her was like seeing one of my future possibilities. And in almost every way, it was totally exciting. She is awesome, and she is committed to bringing God's Word to people who do not know it, and her own life is so obviously full of God's love and compassion.
But the thought of being single for the rest of my life? I don't know if I could handle it. I mean, if I had a best friend who I knew would stick by me, who would go where I went and stayed there with me...that'd be great. That person doesn't have to be male. But the huge benefit of marriage, and one of the only notable differences (yeah, I know about that sex thing, but it's not much of a draw right now), the only notable difference is the commitment. When you marry someone, you literally bind your life to theirs and theirs to yours. I like that forced, but accepted, choice to live your life with someone else.
2) On the other hand, marriage still terrifies me, and I figured out a new reason why. I am worried that getting married would make it a lot harder to avoid the American dream. I do not want to get a big house. I do not want to put money into a savings account so we can retire early. I do not want the white picket fence and the lazy happy comfortable life.
It seems much harder to avoid it when married. Because inevitably there are kids, and then people will shower you with presents and toys, and how do you remain non-materialistic? And there are so many more expectations to shoot down, because everyone expects married couples to be on a certain life trajectory--the American dream.
And anyway, it seems almost impossible to find someone who wants the same things as me. The other day I thought about starting to set money aside for adopting kids, because I know it's crazy expensive and I might as well start now. How many guys would not be creeped out by that? I don't know, maybe I'm condescending toward the male species.
Even if I found someone who wanted to be a career missionary and adopt lots of kids from different places and live non-materialistically.....I'm still scared of marriage. I've never had a lifelong friend. I don't know if I can do that kind of relationship.
But whatever! Don't have to deal with this yet. Wish I could escape to another country where I will not be distracted by boyfriend-but-not-husband-material males. Too bad it doesn't look like God will be doing that for awhile.
1) During the church mission trip, I had the awesome opportunity to hang out with a young woman who is serving as a career missionary. As she so wonderfully said when interrupting a purity class: "I'm 33 and still a virgin. I'm not sure what I can contribute." Anyway, seeing her was like seeing one of my future possibilities. And in almost every way, it was totally exciting. She is awesome, and she is committed to bringing God's Word to people who do not know it, and her own life is so obviously full of God's love and compassion.
But the thought of being single for the rest of my life? I don't know if I could handle it. I mean, if I had a best friend who I knew would stick by me, who would go where I went and stayed there with me...that'd be great. That person doesn't have to be male. But the huge benefit of marriage, and one of the only notable differences (yeah, I know about that sex thing, but it's not much of a draw right now), the only notable difference is the commitment. When you marry someone, you literally bind your life to theirs and theirs to yours. I like that forced, but accepted, choice to live your life with someone else.
2) On the other hand, marriage still terrifies me, and I figured out a new reason why. I am worried that getting married would make it a lot harder to avoid the American dream. I do not want to get a big house. I do not want to put money into a savings account so we can retire early. I do not want the white picket fence and the lazy happy comfortable life.
It seems much harder to avoid it when married. Because inevitably there are kids, and then people will shower you with presents and toys, and how do you remain non-materialistic? And there are so many more expectations to shoot down, because everyone expects married couples to be on a certain life trajectory--the American dream.
And anyway, it seems almost impossible to find someone who wants the same things as me. The other day I thought about starting to set money aside for adopting kids, because I know it's crazy expensive and I might as well start now. How many guys would not be creeped out by that? I don't know, maybe I'm condescending toward the male species.
Even if I found someone who wanted to be a career missionary and adopt lots of kids from different places and live non-materialistically.....I'm still scared of marriage. I've never had a lifelong friend. I don't know if I can do that kind of relationship.
But whatever! Don't have to deal with this yet. Wish I could escape to another country where I will not be distracted by boyfriend-but-not-husband-material males. Too bad it doesn't look like God will be doing that for awhile.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Mer
I'm not writing much lately, and that's mostly because I have no idea what to do with my life.
Well, that's not true. There are several things I think God is working in my life and my heart, such as developing a love for missions in America (oh, the good old days when Erin and I would sit around talking about how much we loved other countries more than America...I miss being around people who think like me).
Anyway, I've realized that a big part of my emotional blah-ness is because I don't have a daily routine. I wake up and decide what I want to do for the day. Freeing? NO. All of the choices suffocate me. I even made up a list of things I should do today, and I did a lot of them, but still. I like to wake up and do the same thing every day. I like to know what is expected of me.
I like to do concrete things that I know God wants me to do. I printed off pictures to mail someone. I made a present for a friend. I took a family-less girl shopping with me. I emailed someone about a potential ministry opportunity.
That should make me feel productive, but it doesn't, because I also finished a book, watched loads of Avatar: the Last Airbender, and made pumpkin scones.
I want a job. I might have a possibility, but I'm not sure how it will work out.
I want to go back to Senegal. Wendy is on Mission Serve right now, and one of the girls on her crew is going to Fatick as one of the new Hands On girls in a couple weeks. That makes me so unbearably jealous. Okay, that's over-emoting. But I am jealous. I don't want other people playing with Melody and Ethan, or watching Nate play video games, or talking to Holly in her kitchen (which isn't even her kitchen anymore...), or laughing with Liz, or making pizza with Kim, or teasing Travis.
I want to do those things.
Well, that's not true. There are several things I think God is working in my life and my heart, such as developing a love for missions in America (oh, the good old days when Erin and I would sit around talking about how much we loved other countries more than America...I miss being around people who think like me).
Anyway, I've realized that a big part of my emotional blah-ness is because I don't have a daily routine. I wake up and decide what I want to do for the day. Freeing? NO. All of the choices suffocate me. I even made up a list of things I should do today, and I did a lot of them, but still. I like to wake up and do the same thing every day. I like to know what is expected of me.
I like to do concrete things that I know God wants me to do. I printed off pictures to mail someone. I made a present for a friend. I took a family-less girl shopping with me. I emailed someone about a potential ministry opportunity.
That should make me feel productive, but it doesn't, because I also finished a book, watched loads of Avatar: the Last Airbender, and made pumpkin scones.
I want a job. I might have a possibility, but I'm not sure how it will work out.
I want to go back to Senegal. Wendy is on Mission Serve right now, and one of the girls on her crew is going to Fatick as one of the new Hands On girls in a couple weeks. That makes me so unbearably jealous. Okay, that's over-emoting. But I am jealous. I don't want other people playing with Melody and Ethan, or watching Nate play video games, or talking to Holly in her kitchen (which isn't even her kitchen anymore...), or laughing with Liz, or making pizza with Kim, or teasing Travis.
I want to do those things.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Radical, by David Platt
I strongly, whole-heartedly, desperately encourage you to read Radical by David Platt. It is about giving up the American dream, of deliberately forsaking a life of comfort and materialism for the purpose of obeying God's command to take the gospel into all the world.
I will buy it for you if you want to read it. I'm not even joking. Give me your address and request, and I'll send it your way.
Tommy wrote a comment the other day about how it is more financially prudent to serve in Peoria than overseas. I understand the logic, but my heart revolts at the mere idea. I couldn't articulately explain why until I read this passage from the book, which in turn quotes Jim Elliot, the missionary who died obeying God:
"Consider the call from the Throne above, 'Go ye,' and from round about, 'Come over and help us,' and even the call from the damned souls below, 'Show Lazarus to my brothers, that they come not to this place.' Impelled, then, by these voices, I dare not stay home while Quichuas perish. So what if the well-fed church in the homeland needs stirring? They have the Scriptures, Moses, and the Prophets, and a whole lot more."
I understand that he is addressing the church more than the lost of America, but I believe that Americans have about twenty million times more chances to hear the gospel than other people around the world. I won't go into much more, because I will only be using David Platt's words as my own, and it would be better if you read his book and made your own decision.
I will buy it for you if you want to read it. I'm not even joking. Give me your address and request, and I'll send it your way.
Tommy wrote a comment the other day about how it is more financially prudent to serve in Peoria than overseas. I understand the logic, but my heart revolts at the mere idea. I couldn't articulately explain why until I read this passage from the book, which in turn quotes Jim Elliot, the missionary who died obeying God:
"Consider the call from the Throne above, 'Go ye,' and from round about, 'Come over and help us,' and even the call from the damned souls below, 'Show Lazarus to my brothers, that they come not to this place.' Impelled, then, by these voices, I dare not stay home while Quichuas perish. So what if the well-fed church in the homeland needs stirring? They have the Scriptures, Moses, and the Prophets, and a whole lot more."
I understand that he is addressing the church more than the lost of America, but I believe that Americans have about twenty million times more chances to hear the gospel than other people around the world. I won't go into much more, because I will only be using David Platt's words as my own, and it would be better if you read his book and made your own decision.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Anger
I am not an angry person. In fact, when I was visiting the Hughes family, Jennie was trying to explain to Hannah what a temper is. Hannah asked, "Does Tricia lose her temper?" and Jennie replied, "Well, no, I don't really think she does."
Which is true, mostly. I tend not to get angry. With people, at least. Ideas are a whole different matter.
Today I got into a passionate one-sided rant with my grandparents, in which I lambasted Americanized Christianity, and the stupidity with which many churches throw away their money on frivolous expenditures instead of funding people to go into the world and proclaim the glory of God to those who don't know Him. (See how I ended up going on and on in a run-on sentence? Written anger!)
Talk to me about any issue where theology and sociology collide, and chances are I will get angry.
Many years ago in Greece I said, "I am optimistic about people specifically, but I am very pessimistic about the world generally." I realize that this is the same with my anger.
Which is true, mostly. I tend not to get angry. With people, at least. Ideas are a whole different matter.
Today I got into a passionate one-sided rant with my grandparents, in which I lambasted Americanized Christianity, and the stupidity with which many churches throw away their money on frivolous expenditures instead of funding people to go into the world and proclaim the glory of God to those who don't know Him. (See how I ended up going on and on in a run-on sentence? Written anger!)
Talk to me about any issue where theology and sociology collide, and chances are I will get angry.
Many years ago in Greece I said, "I am optimistic about people specifically, but I am very pessimistic about the world generally." I realize that this is the same with my anger.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Holy Discontent
I'm feeling rather discontented today. Part of this is normal I've-not-been-in-one-place-for-more-than-two-weeks-in-the-last-two-months emotion, but I think it is mostly God working in my heart, showing me that I am settling for far less than what He wants in my life.
Of course, I have very much enjoyed this last month of visiting my dear friends, getting caught up on their lives and celebrating the awesome relationships God has given me. But in the process I have started thinking thoughts like:
"Oh, he would make a lovely husband."
"What hair style would look best for my friend's wedding, and how can I avoid tan lines?"
"Where can I get a job that will make me happy?"
"I wonder how many TV shows I can cram into one evening?"
I do not think these are thoughts that glorify God or demonstrate a life of total abandonment to His call and His kingdom. They are wholly American thoughts, and I don't want to be an American. I am not supposed to act as though I am from this world, because God has taken me from my upbringing and my culture and set me in a wholly (and holy) different setting, one where God is the beginning and the end and the middle, and I am inconsequential except for how I glorify Him.
I'm ready to go somewhere. I want to be a missionary again. Yes, I know that there are things I need to do here in America, ways I can serve God in my hometown. But there are so many more temptations, and I can't help thinking the gut reaction to flee is a good one. Granted, my gut reaction is almost always "flee," but when I want to run toward discomfort and culture shock and social pain, I wonder if it's a good instinct right now.
I feel very lost at the moment. I don't know what God is going to do in my life. I don't know whether a family is going to be in my future, and if so, when. I don't know if I could handle being a missionary all by myself, without the social support that comes from a husband and kids. I don't know if I will be so lucky as Senegal to work with other missionaries who so easily fit into my life and personality.
But I want to move on. I am having a great time in America, no doubt about it. I absolutely and totally love being part of my Woodland family. There is nothing wrong with that, in itself. But I am becoming more obsessed with my relationships with people instead of my relationship with God, and that is horrible and wrong and worthy of drastic action.
I do love God, and I thank Jesus for being my King, and I am awed by the work I see the Holy Spirit doing in my life. But not enough. Not nearly enough. The fact that I have gone a week without cracking my Bible, that I would rather read a book by a pastor than the Word of God, is awful. I want the love of God to completely consume me, and it's just not. I'm letting my old American self block the transformation God wants to work in me.
It seems easiest to transform when I'm outside my comfort zone. I'm too comfortable now.
Of course, I have very much enjoyed this last month of visiting my dear friends, getting caught up on their lives and celebrating the awesome relationships God has given me. But in the process I have started thinking thoughts like:
"Oh, he would make a lovely husband."
"What hair style would look best for my friend's wedding, and how can I avoid tan lines?"
"Where can I get a job that will make me happy?"
"I wonder how many TV shows I can cram into one evening?"
I do not think these are thoughts that glorify God or demonstrate a life of total abandonment to His call and His kingdom. They are wholly American thoughts, and I don't want to be an American. I am not supposed to act as though I am from this world, because God has taken me from my upbringing and my culture and set me in a wholly (and holy) different setting, one where God is the beginning and the end and the middle, and I am inconsequential except for how I glorify Him.
I'm ready to go somewhere. I want to be a missionary again. Yes, I know that there are things I need to do here in America, ways I can serve God in my hometown. But there are so many more temptations, and I can't help thinking the gut reaction to flee is a good one. Granted, my gut reaction is almost always "flee," but when I want to run toward discomfort and culture shock and social pain, I wonder if it's a good instinct right now.
I feel very lost at the moment. I don't know what God is going to do in my life. I don't know whether a family is going to be in my future, and if so, when. I don't know if I could handle being a missionary all by myself, without the social support that comes from a husband and kids. I don't know if I will be so lucky as Senegal to work with other missionaries who so easily fit into my life and personality.
But I want to move on. I am having a great time in America, no doubt about it. I absolutely and totally love being part of my Woodland family. There is nothing wrong with that, in itself. But I am becoming more obsessed with my relationships with people instead of my relationship with God, and that is horrible and wrong and worthy of drastic action.
I do love God, and I thank Jesus for being my King, and I am awed by the work I see the Holy Spirit doing in my life. But not enough. Not nearly enough. The fact that I have gone a week without cracking my Bible, that I would rather read a book by a pastor than the Word of God, is awful. I want the love of God to completely consume me, and it's just not. I'm letting my old American self block the transformation God wants to work in me.
It seems easiest to transform when I'm outside my comfort zone. I'm too comfortable now.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Senegal in NYC
Today I....
1) Hated saying goodbye to my Woodland church family. Abby summed up my emotions perfectly by asking, "When we get back to Peoria, can we all stay in a hotel?" It's just so nice to spend all my time with my church. Room with them, work with them, eat with them, play with them. I could do it forever.
2) Rode/drove over six hours to New Jersey, listening to the end of The Hunger Games audiobook. Oh, Peeta, you are truly my favorite fictional character of all time that I would actually love and adore in real life.
3) Checked into a motel with my mom.
4) Walked ten minutes to a bus stop, then rode for 40 minutes into New York City. Also we got ripped off by our bus driver, who asked if we wanted round trip, and we answered yes. When we got to our destination, we asked for a ticket or receipt to come back, and he said that wasn't possible, because you can't use cash to leave NYC. $6.40 down the drain.
5) Was completely overwhelmed by Port Authority Bus Terminal and the subway system.
6) Figured out the subway map we borrowed from Sarah Pauli, and now I rule the NYC subway system. Or at least the E line.
7) Went to the Museum of Modern Art, anxious to use our CityPass, only to find that it was free tonight.
8) Confirmed that modern art is almost totally uninteresting to me.
9) Walked down 5th Avenue and stopped at a cute healthy awesome cafe for dinner.
10) Went to the top of the Empire State Building with surprisingly short lines and not much crowding at the rails. It is rather boring up there. All you can do is stare at tall buildings and other tall buildings that look short in the distance.
11) Walked along 34th Street, then ducked in Macy's because of that miracle movie my mom really likes.
12) Met a Senegalese woman! The lady who sold me some Clinique moisturizer had a name tag that said "Fatima," a slight accent, and vaguely Senegalese features. I asked her if she came from New York, and she said she was from Senegal, West Africa. I lit up, explained that I had just been there, and we talked for five or ten minutes.
She left Dakar ten years ago, and has since lived in France, California, Washington DC, and New York. Her mother is Sereer and her father is Pular. She greeted me in Wolof, and the reply slid out of my mouth without thinking, which is good because I don't think I could have remembered it if I'd consciously worked at it. I told her the only Pular word I knew was "Jam tung" and she freaked out. She was so super thrilled to talk about Senegal with someone, and so was I. When we finally left, she said, "It was nice to meet you, Siga Ndour" and I felt like part of my heart was restored.
13) Returned to the Port Authority Bus Terminal and totally rocked the tickets and finding gate 318. We rode the bus back to New Jersey, and collapsed in the motel at 9:00. It's been a long day. And a long week.
1) Hated saying goodbye to my Woodland church family. Abby summed up my emotions perfectly by asking, "When we get back to Peoria, can we all stay in a hotel?" It's just so nice to spend all my time with my church. Room with them, work with them, eat with them, play with them. I could do it forever.
2) Rode/drove over six hours to New Jersey, listening to the end of The Hunger Games audiobook. Oh, Peeta, you are truly my favorite fictional character of all time that I would actually love and adore in real life.
3) Checked into a motel with my mom.
4) Walked ten minutes to a bus stop, then rode for 40 minutes into New York City. Also we got ripped off by our bus driver, who asked if we wanted round trip, and we answered yes. When we got to our destination, we asked for a ticket or receipt to come back, and he said that wasn't possible, because you can't use cash to leave NYC. $6.40 down the drain.
5) Was completely overwhelmed by Port Authority Bus Terminal and the subway system.
6) Figured out the subway map we borrowed from Sarah Pauli, and now I rule the NYC subway system. Or at least the E line.
7) Went to the Museum of Modern Art, anxious to use our CityPass, only to find that it was free tonight.
8) Confirmed that modern art is almost totally uninteresting to me.
9) Walked down 5th Avenue and stopped at a cute healthy awesome cafe for dinner.
10) Went to the top of the Empire State Building with surprisingly short lines and not much crowding at the rails. It is rather boring up there. All you can do is stare at tall buildings and other tall buildings that look short in the distance.
11) Walked along 34th Street, then ducked in Macy's because of that miracle movie my mom really likes.
12) Met a Senegalese woman! The lady who sold me some Clinique moisturizer had a name tag that said "Fatima," a slight accent, and vaguely Senegalese features. I asked her if she came from New York, and she said she was from Senegal, West Africa. I lit up, explained that I had just been there, and we talked for five or ten minutes.
She left Dakar ten years ago, and has since lived in France, California, Washington DC, and New York. Her mother is Sereer and her father is Pular. She greeted me in Wolof, and the reply slid out of my mouth without thinking, which is good because I don't think I could have remembered it if I'd consciously worked at it. I told her the only Pular word I knew was "Jam tung" and she freaked out. She was so super thrilled to talk about Senegal with someone, and so was I. When we finally left, she said, "It was nice to meet you, Siga Ndour" and I felt like part of my heart was restored.
13) Returned to the Port Authority Bus Terminal and totally rocked the tickets and finding gate 318. We rode the bus back to New Jersey, and collapsed in the motel at 9:00. It's been a long day. And a long week.
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