Poetry

"USED (twice used) and
a certain blue book
hold promise for the next day when 
the new old self taps
her foot carefully
into the joyous echos 
of discovery."

I wrote this eight(?!) years ago.  It was originally part of poem that hadn't taken off like I'd hoped, but I really liked this stanza, and I guess it does sort of stand on its own.  Anyway.  Every so often, the part of this poem resurfaces in my brain.  This morning was one of those days.  And I thought, you know, I think it's time this poem sees the light of the internet beyond my f-listed livejournal. :)

Thanksgiving

In the midst of all the random "I'm thankful for..." posts that have been smattered all over my facebook newsfeed this month, one person shared a quote about how being grateful was useless unless it was expressed.

Somehow, I find "giving thanks" weird.  I feel grateful and awed, surely.  But somehow, stating it cheapens it, to me, at least.  Because I feel it.  But maybe I need to take the time to write it out.  To stop, and consider.  To be grateful when it is hard to *feel* grateful, particularly around the holidays, when travel sucks, and family hackles rise.

1. I'm grateful for heat.  And no shortage of blankets with which to aid the furnace in keeping me warm when I choose to keep the thermostat turned a little low to keep my my bill manageable.  So I'm grateful to have the choice of heat.  Of knowing that when I come home, after my brief stint in the chill air, I can turn a knob and be warmer 20 minutes later.  Of knowing that even when I turn the thermostat way down when I leave the house, having a house kept at 45 degrees is immeasurably better than a house as cold as it is outside, considerably colder.

2. I'm grateful for the ability to travel.  More specifically, the ability to travel on my own terms, and not have to rely on public transit.  A place to travel to, also.  I could be in another country, on another continent, or on the other side of the country for Thanksgiving.  But, I am within a 5 hour drive from my family, that makes the possibility of traveling for the holiday a possibility.  Oh, and the weather forecasting that let's me plan my travel so I don't drive straight into a snowstorm. ;)

3.  I'm grateful for my work, and I'm grateful for the doors that are opening for my next steps--What's next? Back to West Michigan?  A new place in Illinois? I'm grateful to have found this work and this path.

4. I'm grateful for the friends I have who know the real me.  I am grateful to the people in my life who have helped me see the real me and have helped me to love her.

5. I'm grateful for a 13 year journey with Jesus.  All of those seasons.  All of those moments.  And the pleasure of knowing that I have many more seasons and moments with him to experience.  And knowing that all of those seasons and moments are invited by him. <3 p="">

On the Challenge of Dying a Slow Death to Self

Dying on a cross is a slow death.  It is not a bullet to the temple.

Sin, the Pastor, and the Body

So many pastors in the news over the years being caught in sexual sin.

I'm not saying that pastors are anything other than human.  What I am saying is that there is so much that goes into sinful behavior on this kind of scale that something has to be wrong, not with the pastor, but with how the church relates to the pastor.

What are our hiring practices?  What do they entail?  What kind of support is the pastor getting?  I don't care if the pastor is married or single, a pastor needs pastoral care, too.  A pastor needs friends too.  Where are we, as a Body, failing our pastors in such a way that leads to this many instances of this scope of sin?

The cauldron of my soul after this morning's message

Life. Death. Bodies.

It's all in Scripture, all closely related.  cf. Romans 6:3. Ephesians 2:1-6. 2 Corinthians 4:10-11. 1 Corinthians 6:15-17.

Life. Death. Bodies. Choices. Sides.  Life? or the Adversary?

"Edginess" and the Power of the Spirit

I was talking to a good friend of mine a few weeks ago about mourning our loss of "edginess" in various ways as we grow older and become mommies (in her case) and educational leaders (in my case).  In addition to our spiritual lives, we also share a gothic/punky/alternative sense of fashion, which has mellowed in the past few years for a variety of reasons.

I was thinking about shock value in our culture the other day.  I was thinking about the younger Christian generation's desire to be different than the older Christian's generation, wherein we want to prove that we can be cool too, by not saying that we can't have a beer with our dinner or that we can't ever ever swear.  I was thinking about my defensive hold on the gothic part of my history, my wardrobe, my personality.

And then the Holy Spirit knocked me upside the head.

Our power in this world is not in our "edginess" or our shock value.  Jesus asks us to be meek instead of loud.  In asking us to be meek, he asks us to trust in the power of His Spirit to accomplish the work he has planned.  (cf. 2 Corinthians 4:7)

Five Quick Takes

I haven't posted in a while not because I have not had things to write about, but have had, in fact, too much to write about.

And so, because I need a mental break, and to begin to get things processed, here are five quick blurbs.

A. I wish I had used a different textbook in my undergraduate organic chemistry class.  I have been borrowing a professor's organic book with which to review for the American Chemical Society's standardized organic chemistry test, which I am supposed to pass at a certain level for my graduate coursework.  I don't know if it is more accessible to me because I simply have learned more chemistry over the years, including advanced organic chemistry mechanisms and have taught introductory organic chemistry for 2+ years, or because of the way it is written.  I am inclined to believe the latter.  I have revisited my old organic textbook to check things, and I do understand more of it.  But I feel this textbook (Solomon and Fryhle's 7th ed., for the record) is written in a more intuitive fashion, where ideas are not arranged so much by category (which they are to some extent), but more by relevance.  It seems to me that the ideas are presented in an arrangement where one idea leads progressively into the other, such that the topic is expanded and advanced.

B. I feel like I'm entering a new season of growth in my faith, where faith is less about answers and knowledge and completeness, but more about truly living with Jesus...not just in the Events, but in the waiting, also. You live with people and you read books in silence together and you have breakfast together with eye crusties and evil eyes if you are too perky too early. You say things in anger and you make mistakes, and you talk it out. You stay up far too late in your pjs laughing and chatting. Living with Jesus has to be like that. That rhythm and flow of life together that doesn't depend on having showered and brushed your teeth and having lines rehearsed.

C. It is such a beautiful thing to see the outcome of so many years of uncertainty and struggle.  Jesus was birthing something new 4 years ago when his movement in my heart prompted me to leave the PhD program.  At the time, I had absolutely no clue where he was leading.  None.  But I continued to explore and follow, with many emotions and seasons, in finding jobs, and housing, and going to Russia, and trying my hand at student ministry as at least a part of my career.  And now, I'm here...entering my final year in a master's program, doing chemical education research, going to chem ed conferences, and loving as much of it as I can.  It all seems to fit.  In a beautiful, God-crafted way.  The conference at Grand Valley two weeks ago was such an affirmation of that.

D. New things.  New aspects of old relationships. New season of work and faith. :)

E. Lastly, this article in Time about 50 Shades of Grey is amazing.  It's hilariously written, but it's also a good read, because I also wanted to know what on earth was so amazing about this book, but not wanting to read it to find out, knowing the general premise of the story.  And so, here I find a hilariously written account of what seems to be the non-supernatural pornographic version of Twilight.  In case that is not enough for you to read it, here's a snippet:  "I think I might be the only man who read this book. I did it sneakily, hiding the cover, especially when I was on an airplane, which actually is a good place to read this book because you have access to a barf bag."  Your welcome. :)

Touch and Affection

I think this article is amazing on so many levels:

http://www.theamericanconservative.com/our-starved-for-touch-culture/

"The friendzone is treated as a wasteland not just because we treat sex as an idol, but because friendship and non-sexual affection is written off as irrelevant. Casual dating has been replaced by casual sex; platonic touch has been eclipsed by erotic signalling."

"[I]t’s worth asking if there is something we can do to make non-sexual affection more common generally. At the personal level, that might just mean offering friends hugs more often, and at a societal level, telling and repeating better stories about friendship."

It says so much about our culture's obsession with romantic relationships at the expense of friendships, it says so much about our culture's homophobia, it says so much about caring for the lost and confused.  

Bits

Ten days until Easter.

I'm not sure how I feel about that.  I'm really enjoying this season of Lent, and I kind of don't want it to end.  Is that weird?

I'm hoping that this is only the start of whatever season God wants to draw me into with him, and that when I finally check my facebook messages in ten days, it won't matter.  I'm hoping that this season of Lent has changed something, so that I will be less inclined to become consumed with facebook, changed my awareness of myself.

In other news, I'm actually considering adopting a cat.  I have wanted a furry friend for several years, but have never felt willing to commit to that.  I think I'm starting to become willing to do that.  :)  It will likely mean moving (*dies a little a lot inside*), but I think having a pet and having appliances that I trust and having water that doesn't smell like rotten eggs will be worth the move.

And now, to prep my final practicum lecture. :)

Fasting

Fasting should open up hands and energies for new things.  For old things forgotten.  I found it very interesting in my reading of Isaiah 58 this morning that God defines fasting in verses 6 and 7 by things done, not things not done.  There are verbs here: loose, undo, let free, share, break, bring.  I spent a little time considering what one would have to surrender or lose or give up to do the things indicated in this kind of fast.  Two examples: "To undo the straps of the yoke," you practically need to remove your hands from your own work and move them to the straps of the yoke.  "To let the oppressed go free" cues a sense of refraining from anger, in the sense that to let those that you hold prisoner, you must be willing to forgive their trespasses (real or imagined).

Now, I don't feel that I am anywhere close to this kind of fasting God lays out here.  But it was something to consider.  A seed of this carries into my reflections about my experience so far of giving up Facebook for Lent, in terms of freedom and replacing behaviors.  Personally, I don't participate in the "giving something up for Lent" thing unless there has been something on my heart or mind prior to the season.  It's not something I choose because the calendar says so.  For example, I gave up music for Lent in high school one year.  ALL music.  I worked at an ice rink, so when I had to skate guard (ie, skate around during public skates to make sure no one hurts themselves and you aren't being stupid about other people's safety), I wore ear plugs.  Odd, but understandable.  But this also applied to music at church.  Whaaat? You may think.  What's so wrong with church music?  Nothing.  But I was finding that I was relying too much on worship music to create my relationship with God.  I needed to learn other ways to connect with God.  In the beginning, I just retreated to the back of the room during teen church on Sundays and youth group on Wednesdays and not participate in the musical portion, maybe try reflecting on just the words.  Not working.  So I would leave the room and try praying.  (My pastor came out to check on me once, haha.)  Easter showed up that year, and I remember being so excited to sing Alleluia with the whole congregation.  I sang loudly, at the top of my lungs.  It was so beautiful to hear such joy in music after such silence.  And to be able to fully participate in corporate worship again.  To add to that, the following weekend, I headed off to Costa Rica on a mission trip with my youth group, where we only sung in Spanish.  So beautiful to be able to worship even when I didn't know the language!

Nobody suggested I give up music.  Likewise, nobody has suggested I give up Facebook.  It seems to be a popular thing to do, but it's something I try to do on a monthly basis anyway.  Every handful of weeks, I have a no technology day.  The phone goes off.  The laptop gets shut down.  It forces me to be present to the day.  I notice a shift in how I approach the day, where my mind goes.  It's a good thing to do.  I have felt too consumed with Facebook in recent weeks, so I've decided to give it up for Lent.
1. I spend far too much time on it.  I break from work to check it because I need a mental break for a little bit, and I end up spending 15+ minutes on it, when 5 minutes or less is what I needed.  And it rarely serves that purpose anyway, because:
2. It makes my brain noisy.  There's just TOO MUCH coming at me through Facebook.  Words.  Statements. Humor that isn't necessarily appropriate or good.  Articles that say lots of things without COMMUNICATING.
3. I honestly end up in the jealousy trap.  I am happy with my life, truly, until my newsfeed fills with engagement and baby announcements and gorgeous wedding pictures.  Then I consider my life less than.  When it is not.

It's been about a week since I logged off.  The first day or two was challenging, just because I kept running into old habits: reaching for my phone first thing in the morning, wanting to disengage from work after only working for 10 minutes because I'm overwhelmed, wanting to take a picture to share something.  It's calmed down a little now, but there are still inclinations and desires to check it.  I know I need to find something to do for my mental work break...if it were warmer, I'd be inclined for it to be stepping outside for a little bit.  In the meantime, I'm considering coloring.  Yes, coloring, as in a coloring book.  My best friend's mom gave me a Harry Potter coloring book for my birthday, with crayons labeled with chemicals that have those colors. ^.^

But I'm also now at a point where I am starting to see the freedom in this fast.  I'm hopeful for what God can do with this in my personal devotional life; the ways he'll shape my heart in the midst of this.  Focusing my heart on him instead of church politics.  I'm also looking forward to writing more.  Taking time to fully flesh out my ideas, rather than biting out 140 words.  I also hope it helps me take personal risks.  It's easier to try to make social plans with Facebook because it's less direct, more non-committal.  I could invite everyone and no one at the same time when I'm bored on a Friday night with a vague status update.  Or, I could suggest it on someone's wall, for their consideration whenever they choose.  Instead, I'll be forced to take the risk to actually contact someone to ask them if they would be interested in coffee or something.

:)  I had other ideas, in the vein of considering the options and freedom logging off Facebook offers.  But they've left my brain.  In the end, I'm hopeful for this season.  I look forward to the work God will do these next five weeks.

Reflections on True Worship

21 “Woman,” Jesus replied, “believe me, a time is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem. 22 You Samaritans worship what you do not know; we worship what we do know, for salvation is from the Jews. 23 Yet a time is coming and has now come when the true worshipers will worship the Father in the Spirit and in truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks. 24 God is spirit, and his worshipers must worship in the Spirit and in truth.” John 4 (ESV)

What is meant by worshiping "in the Spirit and in truth"? Truth is not capitalized. It is not prefaced by the article "the." I'm used to understanding this verse in terms of worshiping as the Spirit leads grounded, rooted, established, growing out of the Truth of Who God is. But is that what this passage is saying? I mean, it makes sense. But it seems a little too removed from the situation at hand, too academic. The story of the woman at the well encountering Jesus is powerful and intimate. Jesus opens by displaying his own needs--he is tired, and he is thirsty. Against all cultural bounds, he asks the woman there for a drink. Which quickly turns into a discussion about spirituality, Jewish history, and eternal thirst. Jesus sees straight into her heart, sees her need and desire. Immediately following these verses, Jesus discloses to her that he himself is the long-awaited and desired Messiah. This story is full of heart-communication. (Yes, I just made that up. But it fits.) "Samaritans worship what you do not know; we worship what we do know..." It is true that there is a mind-knowing, communicated in French using the verb <savoir>, and a heart-knowing, communicated with the verb <<connaitre>>. I don't know Greek, so I can't tell you what the verb is in this verse. (If anyone would like to enlighten me, I'd love to hear it!) I feel like the context, including the interaction that is happening, the desire being answered with these statements, God's desire for worshipers who worship "in the Spirit and in truth", lends itself to more the heart-knowing usage of the word know here. In which case, an exhortation to worship in the Spirit and in truth given to mean Spirit-led and Truth-grounded, while accurate, feels a little..stilted, academic, heady to me. I could be wrong here. I really could. I'm just thinking about this, and I'd love feedback here. What if, what if, "in truth" means "in sincerity"? What if this is an exhortation to be led by the Spirit (who communicates Truth) and to be honest and sincere in worship? Without pretenses or pretexts?

Closet Racist?

InterVarsity is committed to multi-ethnicity.  And that's great.  
But it scares the daylights out of me.

Not because I'm scared of other cultures.  Culture is fascinating!  It really is.  What I'm scared of is not knowing how to talk about it.  I'm scared of asking questions poorly.  I'm scared of offending someone.

I'm guilty of the "What language do you speak in__?" question.  I asked it, hesitantly, cautiously with a disclaimer ("This a going to be a really stupid question, but..") to a Bosnian student of mine.  Because I honestly had no idea.  I didn't even know there was such a language as Bosnian (I was thinking Arabic?).  I'm guilty of wanting to ask the "Where are you from, really?" question, because I don't know how to ask about their heritage.  I guess that's a much more loaded, offensive question than it had occurred to me.

We did an exercise at IVLI (many summers ago) where we broke off into groups based on our ethnicity, and discussed a worksheet about our family, the foods we eat, what we do when someone encounters hardship, things like that.  And then we came back together.  We shared our answers to some of the questions with the rest of the group.  We were asked about our strengths and our weaknesses.  And what I noticed (that I remember, at least) was that my ethnic group (white) was very hesitant about culture.  Several of us, including myself, prefaced a discussion of our strengths with "I don't know if this is a strength or not, but..."  I remember the worksheet being difficult for me to fill out, because I didn't feel like I had traditions.  Or culture.  Or anything exciting to offer about my heritage.  Because more than anything, I feel like my story is not "American" or "white," but "divorced suburban middle class."  If ethnicity and culture are passed down in your family...a broken family means incomplete transference.  My best friend is from rural America.  Her family has it's dirty laundry, too, believe me.  But she has *stories.* She has history.  She has *family.*  They have family recipes, and her grandmother taught her to quilt and knit.  She has a book-A BOOK-of her family, including maps of how the parcels of land has been passed through the family.  I know where my parents were born.  I have no idea how a girl from the Bronx met a man from DC and decided to move to a Maryland suburb.  I'm old enough now to want to know these things, but because their marriage dissolved while I was relatively young (11), I hardly have an opportunity to ask.  What I know about my family's history would fill one sheet of notebook paper, while she has a book.  I envy my friend's family.  But I am blessed that they have taken me in as one their own.  Her grandmother quilted me a blanket for Christmas when we were in college, and were still newly best friends.  This year, having graduated college four years ago and our friendship sustained across 300 miles for as long, her grandmother knitted me an afghan as an apartment warming gift.  Somehow, tucked into the twirls and knots of yarn is a declaration of acceptance and belonging.  

I digress...Culture-crossing.  I love listening to people's stories.  I'm curious about what people think and feel, and their choices in response to those things.  I'm fascinated by different rituals and perceptions of things.  I'm curious about South Asia and Russia, and their stories and histories.  But I don't know how to be.  I don't know how to ask questions.  Making friends is not easy for me.  I feel like I am generally an awkward person.  Crossing cultures? So much room for Stupid Rachel to glow with radioactivity!! I fear offending the other person, and hurting them.  

And maybe in this, too, is a sense of having nothing to offer back in return.  They could tell me about the ceremony of turning 13 and all the preparation and planning and drama...and I could tell them, what?  That my transition into womanhood entailed a really really awkward conversation with my dad in the car on the way to a doctor's appointment in which I told him that I had gotten my first period?  The celebratory response to which was an invitation to dinner with the family, that had nothing to do with anything?  My culture pales (ha, pun not intended) to others.  Or maybe I just don't understand it.  Maybe I need the richness of other cultures to spur me to consider and see the richness of my own.