This is another journal entry I wrote for one of my grad classes. It's got me wondering...

 

Robert Oprandy’s sixth question about combining personal and teacher identities is “How does language teaching fit into my vision of who I am (becoming) and how I’d like the world to be?” This is the hardest question of all six for me. The question Oprandy regards as the most important and understandably so, but I wonder if it is as important as we believe.

 

I honestly don’t know how teaching fits into my vision of what I am or who I am becoming. Since I was twelve, I planned on teaching (of course I’d been planning on being a writer since I was seven, but my grandmother talked me out of it, at least as a primary job). I didn’t have a clear idea what I wanted to teach, just that I would. As I continued to grow up, I thought I’d be a high school history teacher (I had a great one). I even studied history in college. Near the end of college I started to change my mind and decided I wanted to teach college level history instead of high school level. Well, my plans fell apart and neither position were possible for me after graduation. That’s when I found myself in China teaching English. A little connected to my original plan, but not much.

 

Now as I move toward the end of my third year teaching in China, it is clear I am to return to America. Why? No idea. Except everything seems to be pointing that way and I have an undeniable and indefinable peace from the Father. He also seems to be opening doors for a possible office job with ELIC in America. Not teaching this time – office work.

 

I look at the road I have traveled the last twenty-four years and it doesn’t make sense. It’s filled with contradictions and the impossible leaving me with no idea of where I am going or who I am becoming except in one area. I am becoming more obedient to the Father and I am going where He wants me to go.

 

So how does teaching fit my vision of who I am? It is what I was told to do and I (fairly) obediently have done for two and a half years. I have loved it and cried over it. I have worked toward excellence with no clearly defined goals except what ever He asks of me I will do to the best of my ability. I also trust He has a purpose for three years of EFL teaching and a Masters in TESOL though I don’t know what that purpose is. I guess my ultimate vision is to trust him completely and walk in obedience. In that sense, language teaching fulfills this vision as does writing and possible an office job. But the ultimate vision is the Father’s, not mine.

 So, how important is this question really? Or is the more important question about where your heart is, your focus? After all, can you really know what you’ll become before you do? We all have choices and our choices define our character, but not always what we become. There is so much more involved. Especially for those who lay down their lives and follow a path they have not drawn out, a path designed by a Creator who won’t tell where it goes, just asks us to trust Him. And that I do.

 

 

In no way is the above a reflection of theology or personal simplicity. I know the 'right' answers like many of us, but how do you tell that to your heart? How do you explain that to people who believe so differently? How can you ever justify it? There is simply faith.

 

"Faith cannot be unanswered,

Its feet are firmly planted on the Rock;

Amid the wildest storms it stands undaunted,

Nor shakes before the loudest thunder shock,

It knows Omnipotence has heard its prayer,

And cries, 'It will be done' - sometime, somewhere."

~ Ophelia G. Browning

I'm reading The Gift of a Stranger for a grad class and thought I'd post one of my reflections. It's kind of a whole new perspective for me :)

 

 

I have rarely considered whether unity or diversity is more spiritual, more desirable to the Father. However, as I read the common argument against diversity in The Gift of the Stranger, based on the Babel story, I realized this has been an underlying theology in my ideas and many around me – unspoken and unconsidered. A dangerous, ethnocentric idea that could destroy my effectiveness as a teacher and example in China. Life revels in diversity. It longs for it. Breathes it. And yet our sinful natures rebel against such ideas. There’s comfort, security, power in unity – look at the people of Babal. They forgot the call upon their lives, trying to replace it with security and power by uniting together. Even more we can see unity as powerful in Acts 2 when all the followers were gathered together and great power came upon them – they did not hold onto this power, though, desperate to keep it. They laid it down, realizing where the power truly came from and continued to follow the call placed on their lives – a call to GO.

 

So often, when people pull together in mock unity, they stop listening to truth and just listening to their own warped ideas of truth and what’s right. Smith and Carvill point out several times in chapter one the importance of ‘hearing’. Israel was called to be a hearing people and so are we. The Son called again and again for ‘those who have ears to hear.’ But hearing/listening is hard. To begin learning a new language one must listen – listen to the strange words, the strange sounds – if s/he ever wants to actually speak it. Listening/hearing requires caring about another person and truly considering the words spoken. Smith and Carvill say “Hearing the voice of the other takes time, commitment, sensitivity, vulnerability. When the other is a stranger, it might even involve learn the other’s language.” How important is this ‘other’ to each of us?

 

I really loved the section in chapter one about the voice of the stranger – a call to accept all people, no racism. Looking at the world now, I think “Ah, what a nice pipe dream.” Never going to happen. And it might not in my life time, but the day will come that all people do come together in all the beauty of diversity and then each of us must face the aliens we ignored, criticized or deemed lesser than ourselves. Basically those we treated in direct contrast to the desire of the Father, who we serve. The description of Israel on page 11 is a picture of how each of us should be, I believe (in a bit narrower sense as we are not whole nations on our own). “Beyond her[Israel’s] borders she is to be a light to the other nations; within her borders she is to be a blessing to strangers, to those from other nation who have taken up residence in her mist.” To those outside my immediate circle of influence I must be a light, a beacon drawing them into truth. To those inside my circle of influence (students, colleagues, teammates, etc…) I am to be a blessing, to those who may have never seen a foreign face before, to those whose heart’s are broken, to those who are significantly different from me. To love the one who is different from me, either due to language, skin color, culture, personality, or whatever, I am loving a stranger – a stranger, which is “a significant aspect of loving one’s neighbor as oneself.” – One of the two greatest commandments laid down by the Son.

 

And how do I show these strangers in my circle of influence that I love them. Well, I help them. I provide them with tools to improve their lives, with skills to overcome trouble, with unconditional love they may have never experienced, and with confidence to step into the world before them. And I can do all that in the language classroom. J

This stanza from a poem seems to speak the heart of what I want from my writing (at least currently). I must learn the depths and power of writing, not just the joy and logistics.

 

“Give me a new idea,” I said,

While thinking on a sleepless bed;

“A new idea that’ll bring to earth

A balm for souls of priceless worth:

That’ll give men thoughts of things above,

And teach them how to serve and love,

That’ll banish every selfish thought.

And rid men of the sins they’ve fought.”

~A.E. Finn 

How come every time I take this part of my name is 'Mad'?

 

Yer Pirate Name is:

Mad Charity Kidd

 

Every pirate is a little bit crazy. You, though, are more than just a little bit. Even though you're not always the traditional swaggering gallant, your steadiness and planning make you a fine, reliable pirate. Arr!

 

Check it out: http://www.piratequiz.com/

The Father is sovereign over all things. He has all power and all authority. He gives blessings. He gives sorrow. He gives life. He gives death. He is over all, worthy of all – frighteningly glorious. But He gives us choice – such a thought seems to bring the Father down – He must lower Himself to give us choice. He must give us the tiniest authority to make a choice. And He does in His unfathomable way.

 

He stands before each and every person with outstretched hands. In one hand He holds life, in the other, death. Each person must choose one or the other. The power is still the Father’s, but the smallest transfer of power He willingly gives each of us allows us to choose. In no way does this lessen the Father, though. Rather it brings greater glory to our Creator. He loves us enough to give us choice. He is merciful enough to give most of us multiple chances. And He is just enough by allowing our decision to determine our eternity.

 

But what do we do with those people who seem to have been chosen by the Father rather than choosing Him? Why is the choice obvious for some and murky for others? What do we do with the Paul’s of our world?

 

I don’t know. This seems to be one of those paradoxes that is the Father and Son. We choose and are chosen – which is first? I don’t know, maybe they are simultaneous and maybe not. But the Father is incomprehensible and trying to break down the paradoxes of Him seem to be a foolish attempt to weaken Him in our minds and hearts. We want to understand Him, but we can’t to the fullest of who He is. He cannot be interpreted by finite minds, nor understood with even the most elaborate (or simple) word pictures. He is beyond. He is great. He is Creator. He is glory. He is wrath. He is all. He is G*o*d. 

July 29, 2007

 

Must I know where I am going? Is it enough to know the road I am on has been paved by the hands and blood of Christ? Is it enough to grip His hand and walk forward with no idea where it leads – trusting Him blindly?

 

I know the road will take me to the throne of God where I will fall on my face, stained in the blood of the road I traveled. I don’t know what is between where I now stand and the throne room ending, but is that so bad?

 

I am confident the road I travel is the road Christ has led me to and will lead me over – stained red, filled with holes to stumble in, walls to climb, and all challenges and blessings necessary to bring me to a broken humbled creation worthy to fall on my face when the road finally ceases.

 

Must I know where I am going? Or must I trust the road maker and the One who leads me? All I must know is the Creator of the road and the passion of my heart.

 

  

What is it about epic stories that draw us, hold us, enrapture us? Is it the overcoming of great obstacles? Is it the success of a few against the evil of many? Is it the greatness exhibited by the hero(s)? Is it the knowledge that these few changed their world?

I love epics. I love the vastness of the story. The perseverance of the hero(s). The idea that these people are changing their world; shaking the foundations of what has always been. I was wondering the other day why I am so attracted to the huge epic stories and why I even want to delve so far into these ideas that I’m trying to write something like it. Since I was young in faith I have desired greatness – not fame, not wealth, not power. I wanted to know what I was doing was shaking the foundations of earth. I wanted to know I was successful in the eyes of the Father, that I achieved my destiny, my calling (whatever you want to call it). I doubt I’m alone in these desires. I think most people desire greatness in some way or another.

Yet, I have begun to wonder if greatness is really all that great. What’s so bad about a simple life? What’s so bad about staying in one place, serving quietly? That life has a drawing appeal to me. I thought my strivings for greatness had exhausted me and I was simply ready to give up. There’s nothing bad about the simple life, anyway.

And then Easter came. I spent most the day working or thinking about work, but finally sat down in the evening to read the story. As I read, the recent thought-line of greatness returned and something struck me. The Son came to the earth and everyone expected greatness from Him. They expected Him to destroy rulers and establish a throne, saving all Israel. They expected greatness to be defined by this world, what they could see and feel. Yet what He came to do far surpassed anything great humanity could imagine. It was the greatest of greatness. It was quiet greatness. It was incomparable power. It was humility. It was obedience. And it was unimaginably hard.

At this moment, I’m a little scared of my desire for greatness. I’m being brought into it because it’s where I belong and where the Father wants me. But it’s quiet, it’s humbling, it weakens, and it is unimaginably hard. A part of me wants to run even further from greatness with the realization of what greatness in the Father’s eyes truly is. Another part of me wonders how I can think something like that when we have all been called to greatness, to live like the Son. If I love Him as I claim I do than I must be weakened, emptied, destroyed to be filled with the only thing that is great – Him.

The picture that comes to my mind follows the track of my little story about poor Timidity’s journey – she doesn’t even know where she’s going. But the road is covered in shadow, in darkness and we are called into the middle of it. Not to be consumed by it, though it seems that it will. Rather we are to walk through in the strength of a the king, being emptied, weakened, humbled, and filled with sorrow; to be made great. How long does the shadow cover the road I’m not really sure. I expect it covers most of the road that is our lives with rare moments of sun and relief. I expect we never actually see where the road is going until it is gone and we are free from the road. The questions come then: do we desire greatness at any cost, even a greatness we don’t understand? Do we obey a king and walk the hidden road of sorrow? Can we expect so much less than the Son?

I will not say I am now filled with great courage and am ready to run down to road through the shadows waiting for me, ready to strike at them and watch the greatness of the King send the darkness fleeing. I know it will not happen like that. It did not happen for the Son and it surely will not happen for me. The shadow will remain until the end. It is simply my choice whether to continue through it or to sit and wait until it passes away. The King has called my to go forward, to be destroyed by His mighty hand. I am resigned, I guess, and a little fearful. I desire to obey but I know it will only get harder from here. If I already want to quit how can I expect to carry on as the shadow thickens around me? I can’t and I know it. I must walk forward with grim determination and full trust in the King because the shadow is seeking my life and nothing but trusting obedience will save me, will push me on. And through this I will find greatness – not mine, of course, but His.

We have all be called to greatness, but it is not our greatness our soul desires rather His greatness exuding through us. I only hope to see a little of this greatness and understand the path my feet have trodden before I leave this world. Life is blessedly short, but that gives us little time to drag our feet and fall away in fear.

My King, how I beg of you to push me onward despite my quaking heart. Lead me through shadow, through sorrow. Hold me up as I weaken, as I’m emptied. Fill me with your greatness for that is the only greatness that is true and fulfilling. You alone are great and I can never be without being destroyed. Strengthen my heart and continue to teach me to hold tightly to you and nothing else so that when I am crushed I will not be lost, instead restored in your greatness. Three days your Son experienced the pain of destruction; He was crushed. But you raised Him up greatest of all. I am His and You will not abandon me. Please, let me see your greatness in the land of the living. And so I wait, hope, and trust. Love of my heart…So be it.

            A few more days passed in which Timidity studied the images of her recent journey new truths and surprises revealing themselves each day.  She had changed.  She was stronger.  She was more confidant.  She was more in love with her King than ever.  A road laden with trials and challenges, exhaustion and despair, had brought to light what no other road could have done.  The changes the king had made within her and the burning desire to continue changing, to no longer be Timidity but to be something strong in His kingdom.

            She had no idea how she could do that, still, but found she didn’t worry about it.  She would trust the King to take her along the roads that would bring her to a place of pure glory for Him.

            The day finally came when the King returned with a sad smile. 

            “It is time, my daughter,” he said.

            Timidity nodded resolutely.  “Will I ever return here?”

            “Never to the same place, but you will find different places of peace and rest along the road.  Each place gives you a glimpse of what my kingdom is truly like, but just a glimpse.  And would you only want to know one glimpse of my kingdom before arriving?”

            Timidity shook her head with a half smile.  “I want to know the fullness of your kingdom.”

            “In time.” the King’s smile broadened.

            “And now I must leave.  Will this road lead me to new lessons?”

            “A few, but not as many as the last road.  I want you to remember the many lessons from the last journey and practice the truths you have learned.  The truths of who you are and who I am.  Soon the road will turn and there will be many new experiences.”

            “But I must know these truths to travel the next road.” Timidity nodded firmly.

            “Yes.”  The King reached His hand out.  “But now we must return to your road.”

            Timidity took a deep breath determined to follow her King along any road.  She grasped His hand.

            With barely a blink, the garden had vanished, the cool waters and sweet berries were gone and the straight road in the desert stretched before her.

            “Don’t forget,” the King said, releasing her hand. He leaned down and gently kissed the top of Timidity’s head and He was gone.

            Timidity stuffed down the sudden fear the reared up within her clinging to the truths she had just learned. 

            “For you, my King, I will go anywhere,” she whispered.  This road had a purpose like every road before and after. She never walked aimlessly or hopelessly.  The King directed her steps.

            Her hands gripped at her sides, she stepped forward. 

 

            Timidity awoke to the warmth of the mid day sun pouring through the trees.  She rubbed her eyes trying to clear the fog formed from sleep.  As she continued to look around she rubbed her eyes again, wondering if she was still dreaming.  Trees rose up around her in brilliant greens, some with blooming flowers of red, pink, and white.  She lay on the softest grass she’d ever felt and a crystal stream trickled through the middle falling into a gentle waterfall into a large pool. How did she get here?

            The King.  Where was he?  She remembered him coming to her rescue when she had collapsed again on the road amidst another storm, but recalled little after that except the comfort of his arms.  He must have brought her here.  But why?  And where had he gone?

            Timidity scrambled to her feet her eyes still wide from wonder at the beauty surrounding her.  She wandered to several bushes laden with dark berries near the shimmering pool.  Her stomach rumbled.  She tested one of the berries.  It was the sweetest, juiciest fruit she had ever encountered.  Before long her hands were purple from her breakfast. 

            She glanced down at the pool near her and slipped her shoes from her feet.  The cool water washed over her worn feet with invigorating freshness.  She smiled as she plunged her hands into the water.  The purple stains quickly faded off her hands.  Timidity continued to stare into the water around her, the soft waterfall seeming to sing softly of the comfort of her waters.  With little thought, Timidity plunged into the pool. Peace, joy, rest, and strength seemed to fill ever part of her as the water rushed over her.  This had to be waters of healing.

            Several days Timidity simply enjoyed the sweet fruit and comforting water.  She wandered through the trees and breathed in the heavenly fragrance of unknown flowers.  The questions she had awoke with faded away allowing her to revel in the rest of this small garden.

            But one morning she awoke with the questions renewed and unexplained restlessness.  How could she be discontent in such a perfect place?  Nonetheless, she ate the berries with little thought to their sweetness and washed her hands and face in the water without the desire to plunge in.  She needed some answers.

            “My King,” she spoke to the azure sky above her.  “You have brought me here for rest and peace, but I need to know how long I should stay and where the road is to continue on.  Is there more I am to learn here or has the time come to leave?  Why am I restless?”

            No answer came from the clear sky, nor did the King appear by her side.  She frowned as she looked around.  A brilliant red butterfly caught her eye as it fluttered toward her.  It seemed to hover for a moment directly in front of her face and then glided toward the pool where it floated across the surface on the opposite side from the waterfall.  Timidity couldn’t explain why, but she followed the butterfly.  As she watched it hover above the water her eyes were drawn below it. 

            The water stilled.  An image of a road appeared stretching out for unseen miles.  She knew that road.  It was the road she had traveled so recently.  As she stared, the image focused upon one figure on the road – Timidity.  She gaped at the image as it chased her recent travels.  She was so amazed she barely considered the purpose of the pictures but as the images began to repeat, taking her again through the recent past, she was surprised to begin to understand what had happened and even a little of why.  She saw the lessons she was learning and the strength blossoming within her.  She also saw the nearness of the King, even when she couldn’t remember being so close.

            “Even in the trials and darkness there is a purpose, child.”

            The King’s voice filled Timidity with a rush of gratitude.  She turned around.  He smiled softly at her.  And with no words or clear understanding why, Timidity began to weep.

            Clinging to the feet of her King Timidity poured out her pain, her doubts, her joy, and thankfulness in a torrent of tears.  Tears of healing.

            Timidity bit her lip fighting back the threatening tears.  She rubbed her elbow, which was red and bleeding just like her knees.  They stung and continued to trip her up as she pushed along the barren path.  She wondered how she had gotten to this place again.  The place where she could barely keep putting one foot in front of the either because of hopelessness.  The place where every breath was due to unrelenting determination and stubbornness: the only thing that kept her on her feet.

            But the spattering rain and empty land were bearing down on her.  As stubborn as she was she felt her will faltering.  As fearful as she was of failure, she was nearly consumed by the desire to turn back.  A jagged streak of light broke apart the clouds and the very ground shook under her trembling legs as thunder rolled across the barren land.  “I can’t do it!” she cried into the darkness dissolving into tears.  Her legs buckled under her, and she crumpled to the damp ground, sobs stealing her breath.

            “So stop trying,” a voice whispered through the storm.  Timidity looked up.  The King bent down over her; the rain, now pouring heavily, streaking down his kind face.  Timidity buried her face in her hands ashamed of her weakness and despair.  The King would not let her hide, though.  He reached down and pulled her to her feet.  He brought her blurred eyes up to meet his own – eyes dark and fair, fathomless, and brimming with love and hope.

            “I’m too weak,” Timidity said quietly.  “I can’t go on.  My body’s tired, my mind ravaged and my spirit, hopeless.  I have failed you.”

            “Never,” the King said, his whisper somehow carrying over the roar of the wind around them.  “You have walked on in your own strength, determined to obey me, but you forgot something very important, my dear daughter.  I called you to this road and I am your strength to endure this road.  You are weak, but I am strong.  I provide rest and hope if you will let me give it to you.”

            “How will I ever reach the end of the road if I continue to rest?” Timidity asked, trying to ignore the guilt welling up within her.

            “Trust me with that,” the King smiled softly.  “Can you trust me completely, as you used to?”

            Timidity gaped at him, new tears slipping from her eyes.  “I’ve forgotten everything.  What good is the journey if I don’t even trust the one who sent me?  I have been a fool.”

            “You have been weak,” the King said, no condemnation in his voice.  “The journey is never easy, nor will you understand the path you are on.  You lost sight of the purpose even higher than finishing this journey…me.’

            The words struck Timidity in her very depths.  She fell back to her knees, sobbing anew, as she clutched the feet of the King.  “I do trust you, my King, help me trust you more.  Please, be my strength.  I know now I can never be strong enough.”

            “Then let us go on and find a place of rest,” the King said softly, lifting Timidity back to her feet.  “And hear the song in the storm.  Daughter, rest in my arms.” Timidity gulped trying to stop the flowing tears and regain strength in her legs to follow the King.  But with a slight shake of his head, he lifted her up from the rocky ground and slowly began to walk on.  “Listen, daughter.”

            Timidity buried her head in the king’s shoulder, amazed and relieved.  The storm swirled around them, the rain slapped their faces, but Timidity began to hear the soft voice on the wind, the quiet voice of truth.  “He is gracious and righteous, full of compassion.  He protects the simple hearted.  When I was in great need, he saved me.  Be at rest once more, O my soul, for He has been good to you.”  As the words washed over Timidity, peace wrapped around her soul, and she finally found rest.

            Timidity had traveled long down the rugged road discovering the sources of her fears and acquiring tools to begin overcoming them.  She was confronted again and again by Self-Pity and Pride both who nearly took her at different times along the road, but the King would always intervene.  The King is the one who called her to this road, the one who provided the letters of direction, and the one who would provide strength with words, circumstances, or sending His Son, the Prince, to lift her back up.

            Not long ago Timidity was directed down a path completely different then any she had traveled before, or so she thought.  Even here, though, she was confronted by different Fears, Self-Pity and even Pride popped in at different times.  This path had forked recently a letter from the King sending her down the left side where she found herself alone.  But she was not lonely.  She walked along the road with limited hindrance but quiet monotony.  As impatience danced on the edge of her heart a letter arrived from the King. As she began to read a resonate song shook the air around her the words penetrating her heart; this was why she was here at this time.  “I'll carry my cross and I'll carry the shame to the end of the road through the struggle and pain. I'll do it for love.  No, it won't be in vain. Yes, I'll carry my cross and I'll carry the shame.”

            “It won’t be in vain,” Timidity whispered as silenced settled back around her the barren land returning to it’s gray flatness.  “Because I said yes and He knew that.”  Her heart was stirred and her feet strengthened.  The land had not changed, nor had the path, but the drudgery of before fled as her eyes stung with tears and her heart burst with determination.  “I will not let the sacrifices of the King be in vain; I will persevere to the end, no matter the road.”

Perhaps I am have had way too much time to think recently, or I’m loosing my focus, or it’s a sign of my age (not that I’m old, just not a child anymore).  Recently I have felt that my entire life is just waiting, waiting for my true purpose, waiting for inspiration, waiting to find someone I don’t want to live without.  Always waiting yet never receiving.  I recognize the impatience of these ideas and the discontentment that easily grow with this mindset so I spent a couple hours reading through the Book on all the places “wait” appears.  Obviously some of them were irrelevant to my current feelings and situations, but throughout the verses there were some themes that appeared.  These themes have not fully satisfied me nor comforted me.  I’m not sure what they truly mean, probably, and emotions are more at liberty at this time than my mind which doesn’t create rationale.  However, I have noticed it does help identify the depths of my heart and desires while leaving me completely vulnerable before the Creator, a vulnerability He wants me to keep but I’m scared.

            Anyway, in my study of “wait” I noticed that in some translations wait was often translated as “hope”. 

            Ps 25:5 “and my hope is in You all day long” can also read “and I wait for you all day long.”

            Or

            Is. 49:23 “those who hope in Me will not be disappointed” can read “those who wait in me will not be disappointed.”

            Yet in Hosea, “wait” was also translated as “live.”

            To wait means to hope, to trust, to have faith, to live.  Wait seems so passive so often but by realizing the connection with such action and strength, I understand, cognitively, that waiting is much more than sitting around my apartment staring at a clock.  This should be comforting and inspiring, right?

            I got a little more from my study.

            In Job, it says he was waiting for the voice and ready to answer – prepared and ready to act without hesitation.  I always hesitate, though.

          Ps. 5:3 says to wait with expectation.  Do I wait with expectation or do I stifle hope to avoid disappointment?  How do I wait with expectation and avoid the ill found hopes of a lonely heart?  Does my lack of expectation have an impact on what I’m waiting for?  Do I know what I’m waiting for?

            Micah 7:7 says to wait in confidence.  Many of the questions above can be applied here.

            I do have confidence in the one I wait on.  I know that he will give me the best, beyond my greatest desires, but I wonder how long and I wonder if my current desires are distractions or glimpses of the depth of my soul.

            As sure as I am in the one I wait on I am less sure of myself and question the depths of my feelings.  Is my discontentment from the Father preparing me for the next step or is it my fleshly heart blinding me from the desires of Him who made every desire? 

            Is my desire to understand and to see that my waiting is not in vain a sign of faithlessness or preparation?  I don’t ‘feel’ distant from the Father or completely unhappy with my current situation, but feelings cannot always be trusted. 

            I have spent so much of my life ignoring my feelings or chalking them up as irrational forces that lead to destruction and foolishness, but I have been learning that feelings are not all bad if kept in balance.  How do I know when I have that balance, though?  I recognize the importance of rationale, critical thinking, and the power of emotions, but I can’t yet decipher when one is too powerful and blinding me.  It is common to say emotions blind a person but so can rationale and critical thinking.  To only follow these one will lose his/her heart, I don’t want to lose my heart, but I also don’t want to live with my heart on my sleeve.

            What I’m about to say will surprise many people and it surprises the rationale part of me as well but this is what my emotions are saying and I can’t completely discredit them.  I’m tired of being single.  I’m tired of being alone.  I want to love and be loved.  I want to see two dreams become one reality.  I am 24 years old and I’ve never even had a real boyfriend or been kissed, but I don’t just want these things anymore.  I want what’s real.  I want something special.  I want to kiss only one man in my life and I want to marry. 

            For years I have fought these very feelings I have described above.  They make me weak, they make me wait for someone and would place me in a vulnerable situation with another human being.  Because I know myself well enough to know that if and when I fall in love it will be forever. To open myself to someone that completely would form a connection in my heart and soul that would not easily break, a connection I would never want to break.  This is vulnerability at it’s height.

            Vulnerability is one of the most frightening words to me.  But the Father has been stripping away the layers I carefully wrapped around me and is even demolishing the ten foot wall erected to keep humanity away.  It’s terrifying.  It’s freeing.  I have become vulnerable to the Creator and trust Him more than I thought possible, I just wish I understood Him, also.  But the deepening of this relationship along with the friendships established in the last year or so I have realized I, just like every other human, was created to be with others.  We must learn our strength and abilities on our own with only the Father directing us but we were not meant to spend our lives alone – community is essential, and, for many, so is marriage.  The more clearly I see myself and the heart of He who created and loves me the more I realize I need community and want marriage.  I’m uncertain if this is His desire for me and that’s where I wonder if my emotions have gotten out of control, but I no longer want to ignore the feelings within me.  I just have to figure out what to do with the ones that are impossible or improbable.

            I’ll continue my rambling a little longer since it’s unlikely anyone has actually read this far.  This will just be my own laments and musings on the probability of my desire being possible.  I heard someone say recently that as long as I pursue the current path I am on than I cannot expect to find someone to marry.  The path I am on seems to lead me away from marriage prospects intensified by my shyness and insecurities.  I wonder if there is truth in this statement, but I hope not.  I know the path I am on is from the Father and I don’t want to give up on marrying.  Yet, I don’t see myself returning to the States for some time.  Perhaps I’m wrong on this, but perhaps not.  I don’t want to believe that it’s impossible for me to find someone, improbable, yes, but not impossible.  And would the Father lead my down this path where it appears impossible to meet someone without quieting my desires?  I don’t know.

            My shyness most definitely does not help, though I am far better than I used to be.  I will never be an extrovert, and I’m okay with that.  But I do recognize the fact that my current situation in life gives me limited time with any possible men who will very unlikely be drawn to the average introvert that I am.  This also plays into my insecurities, which are common with most women, I’m sure.  My appearance is nothing outstanding, which is fine, and I’ve come to care less about it living in China.  However, I know that my average appearance also increases the improbability of finding someone if I stay on this current path.  I could also add my fears in here, but those have been weakening as the Father continues to lay my heart bare before Him healing old wounds and teaching me how to live with the scars.  The fears no longer make marriage look impossible to me.

            And so I wait as I have been doing my entire life.  Yet I must grasp the fact that waiting is not passive, that it is living, and I must live, hope, trust and go forward in faith.  Matt. 26:38 the Son says “Wait for me…” and so I wait.

Ah, 24.  Not one of those pivotal numbers, for sure, but a new year for me nonetheless.  Today, I have been on this earth for 24 years and I must say I had a very different picture of what 24 would look like than what I am living.  At 24 a woman should be settling down, probably have a prospect of marriage, have clear direction, and certainly not feel like she’s floundering in life.  Yet here I am, a woman of 24, with no hope of staying in one place for an entire year, lacking discernable direction in life, and even further from the possibility of marriage than ever.  I’m sitting in Chengdu, China with a little cat and a life of question marks.  I’m sure anyone who knew me growing up could never have imagined this outcome to my life thus far, I sure couldn’t. 

 

So, why did the Father decide to take one of the most unlikely girls on this planet (currently) and totally shake up her life?  I seemed born for the simple, quiet life for a life of stability and certainty.  Yet here I sit doing in another country away from family, away from the few friends I have, and away from all certainty.  Why?  The only reason I can think of is that the Father enjoys doing the impossible.  This doesn’t really give me any clear direction or assurance that I’ll someday finally have a stable life, but it does remind me where my life is.

 

24.  Every year I hope this will be my pivotal year where direction and meaning will be given, purpose made clear, and, dare I say it, I would finally fall in love.  Every year ends with more questions, less clarity, and definitely no man.  But, this year is a little different.  I would still love to have all those things I listed, yet I have a bizarre contentment that I can’t quite define.  I often think I’m being tossed by the waves of life here and there, but that’s okay.  I get tired of being alone, or feeling lonely, but I can still go on.  I want to hear voices of assurance and touches of love, but they’re not readily available.  And I’m okay.  More than ever before, I know I rest in the hands of the Father.  I know my life in all its chaos is still going the way He wants it and I know that I can’t back out now.

 

What will 24 hold for me?  I have no idea and I’m getting tired of trying to guess because I’m usually wrong and I’ve started to realize it doesn’t matter what I hope for or plan the Father has a plan that is beyond what I can imagine and a purpose greater than anything I could every hope for.  Does this mean my hopes will never come to pass? Only He knows that.  I just know He hasn’t forgotten me and He continues to prepare me and use me for things I can’t comprehend.  Maybe, just maybe, this will be my pivotal year, but if not, I know that which is most important.  I am always loved, always wanted, always used, and never forgotten.  And so I carry on with little understanding or direction, in what must appear to foolish in the minds of men [humanity], with increased peace and greater hope than ever before.  Not just hope of seeing dreams come true, but hope in that my life will be beyond understanding or expectation because I trust Him who made it.  Let us see what He will do.

 

I’ll leave you with just a couple thoughts from our Father that are a glimpse of what He is teaching me as I begin this next year of life given to me.

 

(GW translation) Jer 1:5  "Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you. Before you were born, I set you apart for my holy purpose. I appointed you to be a prophet to the nations."

 

(NIV) John 5:19 “I tell you the truth, the Son can do nothing by himself, he can do only what he sees his Father doing, because whatever the Father does the Son also does.” [ Can this be any less true for the Son’s brothers and sisters?”

 

            How can familiarity be so restorative?

            We know belief and confidence is not found in situations or feelings, but after so long in unfamiliarity that which we are familiar with is inspiring, restorative, and emotionally comforting.

            I’m not talking of familiarity of language or venue, rather familiarity of heart and soul.  I’ve been in Chengdu 4 month with grayness and unrecognized isolation.  However, I have not doubted by beliefs or lost confidence in the Father.  I was losing my passion, but I didn’t even realize it.  Survival and clinging to the word were my only focus.  In this, my belief has been strengthened and confidence assured – growth in a desert (grace).

            In Thailand, I sang and heard the Word.  I heard passion in song.  I heard passion in words.  I felt passion swirling around me.  Fullness of life.  My spirit felt as though it had dropped into a pool of cool, healing water – restoration.  I wonder why I can’t live in this all the time – why I’m taken to the desert again and again.

            What does this mean for me?

            I’m not John, but I sure spend a lot of time in a desert of the soul.  The purpose is so hard to see and is even more difficult to accept when reminded that there’s so much more, but I don’t want to forget what else is out there.  I think I’m confused.  I’m enjoying the restoration period I’m finding in Thailand, but it is making the desire to return to Chengdu less and less.

 

***Random observation that created a question***

            Is it more acceptable for men to wear glasses than women?

Have you ever had a dream and it seemed life was pulling you away from it?

Have you ever ignored the yearnings in your heart, pursuing the practical, the logical, and obviously attainable only to be left empty in the end?

How can you distinguish between a dream of the Father and a dream formed within yourself?  How do you know when the two different threads finally align?  I want my dreams to align with the Creator and I know He knows the depths of my heart and will fulfill all desires that bring me closer to Him.

Yet I look at the dreams building up within me and they seem to become more fantastic and impossible.  I’m getting older, shouldn’t my dreams become more realistic? 

How do you control your dreams, the deepest yearnings within yourself?  I have never dreamed huge nor sought greatness in anything; I have always liked standing in the back, being the wallflower, the organizer of something not the performer.  Yet I’m finding less satisfaction with my current situation and state.  I know I followed my dreams and I definitely followed the Father to where I am now, so why is it so hard to be satisfied?  It’s not that I really want more as much as I want something different; and not a bad different or even a better different, just something different than what I have and am right now.

Perhaps I have become too self-focused and am losing my reason for being where I am now.  Perhaps I have settled and now the depths of the spirit within are chaffing with being held back.  Perhaps I am reading too much into a simple feeling that could be attributed to stress, illness, and loneliness.

I simply wonder about dreams; when should we hold on and pursue with every fiber in our being and when should we let go?  I don’t suppose there is a clear answer to this question, no checklist or basic standard that is applicable to every person in every situation.  It’s something we must pursue individually seeking the wisdom of those close to us and, especially the heart of the creator.  He knows my deepest desires more than I do I just wish He would let me know if my dreams have moved into the fanciful or if they are His heart for me.