I once asked a pastor why grace wasn't talked about more in that
particular church. He replied that they didn't want to talk about grace
too much, lest people take advantage of it and "abuse" it.
So instead of talking about grace, they talked about getting involved,
serving, money and tithing, missions, evangelism, discipleship,
intercession, quiet times, reading your Bible, fasting, getting rid of
sin, making no excuses. There's nothing particularly wrong with any of
those things, but without grace (something Paul spends an entire book
talking about in Galatians), all these good things end up being no
different than the prayer, fasting, tithing, teaching/training, serving,
sacrifice that the Pharisees were so skilled at doing.
The argument for keeping grace "hush hush" has been around since the
first apostles. Paul addressed the idea of a sin free-for-all because
of grace -- essentially, that this attitude doesn't align with someone
who has died with Christ -- died to self -- and now lives again in Him,
in His resurrection. We're dead to sin but alive to Christ. (Romans
5-7)
So why still avoid talking about grace? Do we want to prevent people
from taking advantage of God, as if God can't take care of Himself? We
feel the need to prevent people from committing this "heinous crime"?
If someone's heart is prone to taking advantage of God's kindness,
they'll find some way to do it regardless.
But the ramifications of carefully keeping grace tucked into the corner
are disastrous. I crochet fairly often. I always do it in one piece.
Even if I change the color of yarn, I try to tie the new color to the
end of the old. But once the product is finished, if down the road
someone works out one end, the whole thing can come undone if you pull
at it long enough.
The foundation of Christian life is the same way. If something like
grace can be worked out and pulled on, everything can unravel. If
Christian duty and Christian acts are discussed, but Christian status
(under God's grace) is never discussed, the Christian begins to believe
that duty is required to stay in good standing with God -- what else is
there? Grace hasn't been heard of since salvation, and you know all
that "cross-grace-salvation" stuff -- that's behind you and now you're
moving forward in service, ministry, and generally being an all-round
amazing Christian. You were saved, you learned, and now you "know
better". It's good works, or nothing.
So then, as we get on the treadmill of "being a good Christian", our
eyes are turned from faith in God and His promises of love, acceptance,
and identity to faith in ourselves and expectation of good performance.
Grace has been unraveled, and now it's taking faith with it.
And after awhile, we've been disappointed in ourselves, and maybe others
have been disappointed in us too, just one too many times. We knew
better, but we still struggled in that one area. We know what good
Christians are supposed to do, but we still only spent time with the
Lord 5 days in the week instead of 7. We're just not good enough. And
then hope begins to unravel. We want to serve God, to love Him, to
"bear fruit" for Him, to do good things for Him, but we keep falling
short. We lose the hope of being pleasing and close to God as hope is
the last thing to unravel.
We end up separated from grace, turned away from faith in God, and lost
our hope. And this is a very, very big deal -- for God grace through
Jesus shed blood on the cross and our faith in Him is the only way to
Him, not only on the day of salvation, but every single day after that.
How do we know if we've been separated from grace?
"You who are trying to be justified by law have been alienated from Christ; you have fallen away from grace." Galatians 5:4
Is there anything that we can't let go of? Can we miss church Sunday
morning and still feel secure in Jesus? Do we feel nervous at the
thought of not sharing the plan of salvation? (Not to be confused with a
heart-desire to just talk about Jesus, who He is, and what He has done
-- loving to talk about it.) Are we keeping track of how many times we
had a quiet time, and how long? Or how many times we asked to pray with
people? If the thought of skipping something makes us nervous,
like Peter felt nervous when God suggested he eat "unclean" food and go
to a Gentile's house, we need to go deeper into grace. Grace allows
our faith in God to freely express itself in love, not work out of a sense of duty and obligation.
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
What's It Worth
When I went to camp in high school, one year we had a speaker who used a $5 bill as an example in one of his messages. He took out the $5 bill and said that no matter what you did to it, it would still be worth $5. He punched it, yelled at it, called it names, told it that it was worthless, screamed out it. He said you could abuse it. He even rip it in half, but it was still worth $5. It has value intrinsically in just being a $5. He said that our value is the same thing -- no matter what, the value God has placed in us as a creation in His image doesn't change.
I suppose the analogy could be taken a bit further if talking about a brick of gold. Even if it were to be thrown into a fire, it may melt, but liquid gold is as valuable as solid gold. In fact, it may even become more valuable, as every impurity can float to the top to be removed. But for some reason, all we ever seem to see is the dross and forget that the gold is still gold, and it's value and worth hasn't been diminished at all.
I suppose the analogy could be taken a bit further if talking about a brick of gold. Even if it were to be thrown into a fire, it may melt, but liquid gold is as valuable as solid gold. In fact, it may even become more valuable, as every impurity can float to the top to be removed. But for some reason, all we ever seem to see is the dross and forget that the gold is still gold, and it's value and worth hasn't been diminished at all.
Saturday, November 17, 2012
To The Last Drop
I was once in a church service with started off with a skit which showed a "discipleship" meeting between a "discipler" (the one doing the discipling) and a "disciplee" (the one being discipled). It went something like this:
Discipler: So how did you do this week with that thing we talked about last time?
Disciplee: Oh man, I blew it. I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't want to do it, but I keep falling back into it.
Discipler: We talked about this last week. You really need to stop doing it.
Disciplee: I know! But man, you don't know the week I've had and what happened this week.
Discipler: I don't care. Stop making excuses and just stop doing it!
Disciplee: But I've had a really awful week!
Discipler: Look man, until you take responsibility and just cut it out, I don't know if there's a reason for us to continue to meet.
The disciplee left dejected, and the discipler shook his head and said a prayer that the other guy would get his act together.
I (and others) thought the message would be about grace and heart issues and that life isn't as easy as just, "stop sinning" and that the "discipler" was out of line and not treating the one who was struggling with love, compassion, and grace. But the message was nearly the opposite. The discipler was justified, and the disciplee really did need to just stop making excuses, power through, and stop sinning. We were shocked. Even horrified. How far removed from what Paul says in relation to this struggle with sin.
I had talked with one of the pastors a couple years earlier and asked why grace was never talked about. I was told that they didn't want to spend much time talking about grace so that no one would take advantage of it and think they could do whatever they want.
But that meant that no one received God's grace, had grace for others, or had grace for themselves. They didn't think they could do whatever they wanted -- they thought they had to do whatever any leader told them. It fostered feelings of failure, inadequacy, pride, inferiority, shame, fear, even self-hatred and loathing... and on and on. The consequences of not talking about grace are grave -- they rip at the heart and soul, rob us of hope, and keep us from the Lord.
Paul begins nearly every letter with "grace and peace to you", and Peter and John each start a letter with the same greeting and extension of grace. Paul also says, "I do not set aside [avoid talking about] the grace of God, for if righteousness could be gained through the law ['just stop sinning!'], Christ died for nothing!" (Galatians 2)
Putting aside grace out of fear that someone might take advantage of it will prevent people from doing so, but it will remove the meaning and power of the cross and death of Christ in their lives. "By His wounds we are healed", but without receiving His grace, the healing power of His wounds cannot be applied to our lives and He was whipped and beaten for nothing. Jesus's blood was shed to cleanse our sins, but if we don't receive and live in God's grace and try to be righteous by our own efforts ("no excuses -- stop sinning!"), we say that we don't need the blood that He shed -- thanks Jesus, but all that was really unnecessary. I got the sin thing handled now -- "stop" button activated.
I once had this amazing glass of wine. Truly the single best wine I've ever had. Amazing flavor, smooth, creamy, perfect balance of tannins and sweetness. I didn't want a drop of that to go to waste -- it was just so good. The blood of Jesus is far more valuable than that. Why should I let one drop go to waste because I think, even in one little area, that I can be "good enough" or "follow the rules" and forget about God's grace? I need His grace, and I need every drop applied to my life -- I don't want to let even one drop "go to waste".
Discipler: So how did you do this week with that thing we talked about last time?
Disciplee: Oh man, I blew it. I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't want to do it, but I keep falling back into it.
Discipler: We talked about this last week. You really need to stop doing it.
Disciplee: I know! But man, you don't know the week I've had and what happened this week.
Discipler: I don't care. Stop making excuses and just stop doing it!
Disciplee: But I've had a really awful week!
Discipler: Look man, until you take responsibility and just cut it out, I don't know if there's a reason for us to continue to meet.
The disciplee left dejected, and the discipler shook his head and said a prayer that the other guy would get his act together.
I (and others) thought the message would be about grace and heart issues and that life isn't as easy as just, "stop sinning" and that the "discipler" was out of line and not treating the one who was struggling with love, compassion, and grace. But the message was nearly the opposite. The discipler was justified, and the disciplee really did need to just stop making excuses, power through, and stop sinning. We were shocked. Even horrified. How far removed from what Paul says in relation to this struggle with sin.
15 I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do... 18...For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. 19 For what I do is not the good I want to do; no, the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. 20 Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it. 21 So I find this law at work: When I want to do good, evil is right there with me. 22 For in my inner being I delight in God’s law; 23 but I see another law at work in the members of my body, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within my members. 24 What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? 25 Thanks be to God—through Jesus Christ our Lord! - Romans 7:15-25
I had talked with one of the pastors a couple years earlier and asked why grace was never talked about. I was told that they didn't want to spend much time talking about grace so that no one would take advantage of it and think they could do whatever they want.
But that meant that no one received God's grace, had grace for others, or had grace for themselves. They didn't think they could do whatever they wanted -- they thought they had to do whatever any leader told them. It fostered feelings of failure, inadequacy, pride, inferiority, shame, fear, even self-hatred and loathing... and on and on. The consequences of not talking about grace are grave -- they rip at the heart and soul, rob us of hope, and keep us from the Lord.
Paul begins nearly every letter with "grace and peace to you", and Peter and John each start a letter with the same greeting and extension of grace. Paul also says, "I do not set aside [avoid talking about] the grace of God, for if righteousness could be gained through the law ['just stop sinning!'], Christ died for nothing!" (Galatians 2)
Putting aside grace out of fear that someone might take advantage of it will prevent people from doing so, but it will remove the meaning and power of the cross and death of Christ in their lives. "By His wounds we are healed", but without receiving His grace, the healing power of His wounds cannot be applied to our lives and He was whipped and beaten for nothing. Jesus's blood was shed to cleanse our sins, but if we don't receive and live in God's grace and try to be righteous by our own efforts ("no excuses -- stop sinning!"), we say that we don't need the blood that He shed -- thanks Jesus, but all that was really unnecessary. I got the sin thing handled now -- "stop" button activated.
I once had this amazing glass of wine. Truly the single best wine I've ever had. Amazing flavor, smooth, creamy, perfect balance of tannins and sweetness. I didn't want a drop of that to go to waste -- it was just so good. The blood of Jesus is far more valuable than that. Why should I let one drop go to waste because I think, even in one little area, that I can be "good enough" or "follow the rules" and forget about God's grace? I need His grace, and I need every drop applied to my life -- I don't want to let even one drop "go to waste".
Sunday, November 4, 2012
Verse Abuse
It's been around for centuries. Sometimes it's unintentional or not
having a full understanding. Other times it's with full understanding
-- like when Satan used Scripture to try to manipulate Jesus. And he's
still using Scripture to manipulate us today. I know he's tried to (and
sometime succeeded in) use verses against me and convince me of
something that isn't true. Or take a general Biblical concept and twist
it to mean more or less than God actually intends. Like the idea of
God being able to meet all your needs turning into, "Get all you need
from God," which, by extension, means you don't need people and can live without them.
Sometimes people speak verses to us when they don't apply -- it doesn't fit the context of our current life situation or is somehow misapplied. I've seen this with the Proverbs 11 verse that says, "those who refresh others will themselves be refreshed." Sounds pretty good. There's certainly a measure of truth to that. But I've heard this stated to small group leaders when they were tired -- people who were already giving of their time and energy trying to "refresh" or meet the needs of others. If God isn't in our service of others, and particularly if He's actually saying, "REST," going out and working hard to serve more and better will not bring refreshment. I'm pretty sure it will do the opposite, in fact.
And then the oft used line, "God will never give you more than you can handle." The incorrect application of this verse was actually mentioned in church last week, again this week, and a coworker just mentioned it concerning the various circumstances in her life. This idea is from a verse in 1 Corinthians 10, and has transformed a bit from the verse in the Bible, dropping the concept of being tempted and replacing it with a general idea of life dealings. The verse actually reads, "He will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear," and the preceding sentences are addressing temptation. The verse really has nothing to do with cars breaking down, family members being sick or in the hospital, dealing with cancer, finances, job loss, stress. It's about temptation. And even then, it's not, "God won't let you be tempted more than you can handle -- you got this!" The rest of the verse says, "He will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it." The way of handling it? Knowing God's exit plan.
As for dealing with life events... I'm just gonna be real. Life is more than you can handle. Well, it's at least more than *I* can handle. This was the verse brought up today: "We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired even of life." It goes on to say that it's only God who could deliver them, they will continue to put their hope and trust in God to continually deliver them (WHAT?! We're not just delivered once and for all and may need to be rescued again??!), as people continue to pray for their deliverance. Sounds like we can't handle life without God and a small army of praying saints.
I thought I was supposed to be able to handle moving, but I couldn't handle moving to Michigan on my own. I needed help moving. I needed to hear from family and friends. I needed time to adjust. I needed new friends. I probably needed to go home more. And I probably needed to be visited more. I may have needed more prayer. I certainly needed more wisdom and insight. And needed to fall head-long into the hope of Jesus delivering me. Again.
Sometimes people speak verses to us when they don't apply -- it doesn't fit the context of our current life situation or is somehow misapplied. I've seen this with the Proverbs 11 verse that says, "those who refresh others will themselves be refreshed." Sounds pretty good. There's certainly a measure of truth to that. But I've heard this stated to small group leaders when they were tired -- people who were already giving of their time and energy trying to "refresh" or meet the needs of others. If God isn't in our service of others, and particularly if He's actually saying, "REST," going out and working hard to serve more and better will not bring refreshment. I'm pretty sure it will do the opposite, in fact.
And then the oft used line, "God will never give you more than you can handle." The incorrect application of this verse was actually mentioned in church last week, again this week, and a coworker just mentioned it concerning the various circumstances in her life. This idea is from a verse in 1 Corinthians 10, and has transformed a bit from the verse in the Bible, dropping the concept of being tempted and replacing it with a general idea of life dealings. The verse actually reads, "He will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear," and the preceding sentences are addressing temptation. The verse really has nothing to do with cars breaking down, family members being sick or in the hospital, dealing with cancer, finances, job loss, stress. It's about temptation. And even then, it's not, "God won't let you be tempted more than you can handle -- you got this!" The rest of the verse says, "He will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it." The way of handling it? Knowing God's exit plan.
As for dealing with life events... I'm just gonna be real. Life is more than you can handle. Well, it's at least more than *I* can handle. This was the verse brought up today: "We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired even of life." It goes on to say that it's only God who could deliver them, they will continue to put their hope and trust in God to continually deliver them (WHAT?! We're not just delivered once and for all and may need to be rescued again??!), as people continue to pray for their deliverance. Sounds like we can't handle life without God and a small army of praying saints.
I thought I was supposed to be able to handle moving, but I couldn't handle moving to Michigan on my own. I needed help moving. I needed to hear from family and friends. I needed time to adjust. I needed new friends. I probably needed to go home more. And I probably needed to be visited more. I may have needed more prayer. I certainly needed more wisdom and insight. And needed to fall head-long into the hope of Jesus delivering me. Again.
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
A Tale of Two Cities
I honestly don't remember what that tale is about, which is fine, because this tale has nothing to do with that one.
When I lived in Omaha (this isn't one of the "Two Cities", just fyi), I remember people would leave for a year and come back and comment on how they just couldn't find another place like our group. Now, places and churches are as unique as people, and just like no two people are alike, no two churches or cities are going to be alike. And while that probably contributed, this seemed to be a little bit more than that. And of course no place is perfect, and I know my Omaha group wasn't either, but I've always been very thankful for that community and felt like the Lord gave me a lot in and through them.
When I moved to Michigan (where the First of Two Cities is located), I remember looking for a church and realizing I was looking for 5 things: good teaching/preaching, good worship, "community", Spirit-filled, and I think the 5th was outreach. I could NOT find anything that had all five. Most were removed from the idea of being filled with the Spirit and gifts of the Spirit. The places that were "Spirit filled" were crazy. Worship was often, "Let's sing a couple songs", or, "Let's sit back and listen to a couple songs." Teaching and community were hit or miss, and outreach was largely non-existent.
Let me pause and define "community", because I find this word is heavily used and has become a case of, "You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means." Community is mutual support and encouragement of each other, seeing and encouraging individual giftings, wanting the best for each other. It is not making everyone focused on the same cause so that everyone gets along because they're all the same and all doing the same thing (this particular model could also be called "Communism".)
Anyway, eventually I decided that I'd have to pick two things out of the 5 I was looking for in a church -- which two did I want most? Definitely not the kind where you go up to someone after church, asking for prayer, and they say, "Yeah, sure, I'll pray for you. Gotta go," and pray for you later. Or where the pastor thinks that saying, "What you said today really hit a chord," simply giving him a pat on the back.
In the interim, I was unaccustomed to God being a Sunday thing, and not giving Him much thought during the rest of the week. I wasn't used to forced community and attacking people who were perceived to be a threat. To caring about doing things right, rather than caring about a person's heart. There wasn't necessarily anything outright "bad" -- I was just used to Christians who actively sought the Lord, and encouraged others regularly. I was used to addressing matters of the heart, not matters of the head. I had a few people say they'd never met another Christian like me, and I only found it to be heart-breaking. Why had they never felt heard or cared about before? I struggled in seeking the Lord, and every relational struggle, I felt was the Lord "grounding" me and "not letting me play with the other kids," because, while I wanted to seek Him, I wasn't.
I did end up making a couple good friends, and the people I met at the end of my time there were great -- the church met my top two picks (worship and caring for each other). I was happy and satisfied, but I still wanted more.
When I moved to Texas (the Second of the Two Cities), I really just wanted some TLC. I figured, if I just had a couple months of TLC, I'd be good to go. I was happy and felt "solid", but I was tired. My heart was broken for the beaten and broken Christians I saw. I'd felt unable to properly encourage and express God's love for the people around me so they'd know how valuable they were. I felt like I'd failed. But instead of TLC, it was really just a case of "out of the frying pan and into the frier." Texas doesn't do TLC. They produce results. In Michigan, I saw how others weren't valued or went unseen, suffering under the weight of failing to meet whatever standard or expectations. In Texas, I experienced it first hand. In Michigan I felt like I failed. In Texas, in many subtle ways, they said I failed -- "if only you would do more with evangelism and discipleship. If only I knew how important it was. If only you'd give more -- those who refresh others will themselves be refreshed!" I arrived thinking the main thing I had to offer was loving people and caring about them, and that was important. After a few years, I thought thought that was all I had, but it was worthless -- it didn't produce immediate, great results.
I actually think I forgot many my Michigan experiences, because the Texas experiences were so intense. I didn't realize that I'd always thought that my entire Michigan experience was a failure. But looking back, I don't think that's actually the case. There may have been better choices that I could have made, but not matter what was going on, my desire to seek the Lord and care for people was always, always there.
When I lived in Omaha (this isn't one of the "Two Cities", just fyi), I remember people would leave for a year and come back and comment on how they just couldn't find another place like our group. Now, places and churches are as unique as people, and just like no two people are alike, no two churches or cities are going to be alike. And while that probably contributed, this seemed to be a little bit more than that. And of course no place is perfect, and I know my Omaha group wasn't either, but I've always been very thankful for that community and felt like the Lord gave me a lot in and through them.
When I moved to Michigan (where the First of Two Cities is located), I remember looking for a church and realizing I was looking for 5 things: good teaching/preaching, good worship, "community", Spirit-filled, and I think the 5th was outreach. I could NOT find anything that had all five. Most were removed from the idea of being filled with the Spirit and gifts of the Spirit. The places that were "Spirit filled" were crazy. Worship was often, "Let's sing a couple songs", or, "Let's sit back and listen to a couple songs." Teaching and community were hit or miss, and outreach was largely non-existent.
Let me pause and define "community", because I find this word is heavily used and has become a case of, "You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means." Community is mutual support and encouragement of each other, seeing and encouraging individual giftings, wanting the best for each other. It is not making everyone focused on the same cause so that everyone gets along because they're all the same and all doing the same thing (this particular model could also be called "Communism".)
Anyway, eventually I decided that I'd have to pick two things out of the 5 I was looking for in a church -- which two did I want most? Definitely not the kind where you go up to someone after church, asking for prayer, and they say, "Yeah, sure, I'll pray for you. Gotta go," and pray for you later. Or where the pastor thinks that saying, "What you said today really hit a chord," simply giving him a pat on the back.
In the interim, I was unaccustomed to God being a Sunday thing, and not giving Him much thought during the rest of the week. I wasn't used to forced community and attacking people who were perceived to be a threat. To caring about doing things right, rather than caring about a person's heart. There wasn't necessarily anything outright "bad" -- I was just used to Christians who actively sought the Lord, and encouraged others regularly. I was used to addressing matters of the heart, not matters of the head. I had a few people say they'd never met another Christian like me, and I only found it to be heart-breaking. Why had they never felt heard or cared about before? I struggled in seeking the Lord, and every relational struggle, I felt was the Lord "grounding" me and "not letting me play with the other kids," because, while I wanted to seek Him, I wasn't.
I did end up making a couple good friends, and the people I met at the end of my time there were great -- the church met my top two picks (worship and caring for each other). I was happy and satisfied, but I still wanted more.
When I moved to Texas (the Second of the Two Cities), I really just wanted some TLC. I figured, if I just had a couple months of TLC, I'd be good to go. I was happy and felt "solid", but I was tired. My heart was broken for the beaten and broken Christians I saw. I'd felt unable to properly encourage and express God's love for the people around me so they'd know how valuable they were. I felt like I'd failed. But instead of TLC, it was really just a case of "out of the frying pan and into the frier." Texas doesn't do TLC. They produce results. In Michigan, I saw how others weren't valued or went unseen, suffering under the weight of failing to meet whatever standard or expectations. In Texas, I experienced it first hand. In Michigan I felt like I failed. In Texas, in many subtle ways, they said I failed -- "if only you would do more with evangelism and discipleship. If only I knew how important it was. If only you'd give more -- those who refresh others will themselves be refreshed!" I arrived thinking the main thing I had to offer was loving people and caring about them, and that was important. After a few years, I thought thought that was all I had, but it was worthless -- it didn't produce immediate, great results.
I actually think I forgot many my Michigan experiences, because the Texas experiences were so intense. I didn't realize that I'd always thought that my entire Michigan experience was a failure. But looking back, I don't think that's actually the case. There may have been better choices that I could have made, but not matter what was going on, my desire to seek the Lord and care for people was always, always there.
Monday, October 15, 2012
Broken Family
There are certain things that a family is "supposed" to be. Family, it seems, is supposed to support, encourage, see the best, see what no one else can see, always love and accept -- it's where you always belong. And the family of God should excel in this.
But.... we don't. And it seems like it can be one of the hardest things to reconcile within ourselves. Or maybe it's just me? I'd always seen the believers around me as part of my family. Even in difficult situations, I could believe that "the Jesus in them" was still for me and in Heaven everything would be set right and we'd enjoy relationship as one, big, happy family.
Until... well... Texas. It just seemed like acceptance had to be earned. The things most seen in the lives of others were the things that needed to be changed (that were "wrong" or "needs improvement") rather than potential that needed to be given wings. Position and status were to be earned and gained. Relationships were based on duty, obligation, or what you could offer me. (Side note: obviously not all, but this was the general environment.) People were busy, so you basically had to compete for people's time.
One day, I was reading Heaven by Randy Alcorn that I'd started, hoping it would lift my spirits. When I got to the chapter on relationships in Heaven, I made a terrible discovery: I no longer believed that I would be part of that one, big happy family of God in Heaven. Everyone else would be having a good time, continuing relationships they'd had on earth. I've been separated from most of my relationships on earth by no fewer than 1600 miles (at this point). There seemed to be no reason that that separation wouldn't continue. If relationships continue, and mine are characterized by separation, that's what will continue. And what did I have to offer? It hadn't seemed liked I had what people were looking for. And, there's only so much room in people's lives for so many people. That's not really going to change -- we'll always be finite. Sure, people will wave across the room and smile, and God would somehow make me feel okay with my presence being acceptable, but not really belonging or being a part -- I'd belong to Him at least. But I couldn't help still wanting to actually be part of the whole family and wishing there was room for me. For awhile, I couldn't even bare thinking about Heaven because of the isolation I was certain I'd be facing.
I could think I'm crazy and was being overly sensitive. That I wasn't really surrounded by the weirdness, performance, busy-ness that I thought was around me.
But then, there's the time I met Gregg. Of all places, I met him online, and for some reason we started talking in IM one day. And during our conversation... I just cried. The next day we talked again... and I cried. And the next day. Three days in a row, we talked, I cried. Why? I couldn't believe someone was talking to me just for.... me. He wasn't looking to fix me, he wasn't checking on the status of my school loans, he wasn't trying to determine what I had to offer. He was just interested in... me. And he just accepted me as family. It was the beginning of me realizing that maybe something really was wrong, and it wasn't just me.
I still haven't been able to get those thorns completely out of my heart though -- that I'll still be on the outside looking in.
But.... we don't. And it seems like it can be one of the hardest things to reconcile within ourselves. Or maybe it's just me? I'd always seen the believers around me as part of my family. Even in difficult situations, I could believe that "the Jesus in them" was still for me and in Heaven everything would be set right and we'd enjoy relationship as one, big, happy family.
Until... well... Texas. It just seemed like acceptance had to be earned. The things most seen in the lives of others were the things that needed to be changed (that were "wrong" or "needs improvement") rather than potential that needed to be given wings. Position and status were to be earned and gained. Relationships were based on duty, obligation, or what you could offer me. (Side note: obviously not all, but this was the general environment.) People were busy, so you basically had to compete for people's time.
One day, I was reading Heaven by Randy Alcorn that I'd started, hoping it would lift my spirits. When I got to the chapter on relationships in Heaven, I made a terrible discovery: I no longer believed that I would be part of that one, big happy family of God in Heaven. Everyone else would be having a good time, continuing relationships they'd had on earth. I've been separated from most of my relationships on earth by no fewer than 1600 miles (at this point). There seemed to be no reason that that separation wouldn't continue. If relationships continue, and mine are characterized by separation, that's what will continue. And what did I have to offer? It hadn't seemed liked I had what people were looking for. And, there's only so much room in people's lives for so many people. That's not really going to change -- we'll always be finite. Sure, people will wave across the room and smile, and God would somehow make me feel okay with my presence being acceptable, but not really belonging or being a part -- I'd belong to Him at least. But I couldn't help still wanting to actually be part of the whole family and wishing there was room for me. For awhile, I couldn't even bare thinking about Heaven because of the isolation I was certain I'd be facing.
I could think I'm crazy and was being overly sensitive. That I wasn't really surrounded by the weirdness, performance, busy-ness that I thought was around me.
But then, there's the time I met Gregg. Of all places, I met him online, and for some reason we started talking in IM one day. And during our conversation... I just cried. The next day we talked again... and I cried. And the next day. Three days in a row, we talked, I cried. Why? I couldn't believe someone was talking to me just for.... me. He wasn't looking to fix me, he wasn't checking on the status of my school loans, he wasn't trying to determine what I had to offer. He was just interested in... me. And he just accepted me as family. It was the beginning of me realizing that maybe something really was wrong, and it wasn't just me.
I still haven't been able to get those thorns completely out of my heart though -- that I'll still be on the outside looking in.
Friday, October 12, 2012
Busy
So being a linguist, I've started noticing things I never notice before. Like if I hear a crazy, random sentence, I'll think, "That sentence has never before been uttered throughout the history of mankind."
But, this is not the case with the sentence, "I'm busy." Most children probably hear it before they're old enough to say it. The sentence is either said (or implied) often.
I first noticed the "I'm busy" in Texas. Everyone was so.... busy. It's not that people weren't busy in Omaha and Michigan. They were. They just didn't... make a show of it (for lack of better explanation). The whole structure of my church in Texas was built to address "I'm busy". You get involved in a life group (LG) so you can talk to your life group leader instead of the pastor because, hey, the pastor busy. And yeah, he is busy. It is logical. There was even an intermediary layer between the LG leaders and any of the pastors. But you should still only go to your LG leader, and your LG leader would determine if something you're dealing with should be brought up the chain, and they'll probably ask the person "above" them first. However, if you showed that you could "do the stuff" the church wanted (evangelism, discipleship, were just general "leadership" material), then he or other leaders would probably have time for you.
An example of this was with my friends we'll can Brian and Peggy. Most people, if they wanted to talk to the senior pastor, they'd have to wait a good two weeks. But Peggy "did the stuff" and was leadership material -- outgoing, out spoken, and just really done a lot of stuff. She knew she could get in to see the pastor within 2 days. But her husband who was a little more quiet (but complete effective at gathering men together... quietly) would have to wait the standard 2+ weeks.
It was all perfectly logical. I even had a dream to drive all this home -- that people are busy, I need to know my place, and stay in it. In the dream, I was at my youth pastor's house in Omaha while other people were there. But someone decided that I made myself too comfortable. They pointed out that if everyone made themselves comfortable, the pastor and his wife would be totally overrun with people, and they only had room in their lives for about 12 people, and nothing personal, but I just wasn't one of them. You know, they're busy. But the implication was that they would have room for me if I were just "better" or "more".
Sometimes "I'm busy" is just an excuse. We're not busy. Maybe we're overwhelmed, maybe we're depressed, or maybe we're just being lazy. But not necessarily busy. Of course, sometimes we really ARE busy. Working full time, being in grad school, going through a volunteer training course on Tuesdays and Thursdays this month plus other volunteer stuff... Yeah, I'm busy. So how do I organize my time so that I'm not too busy for what's REALLY important: people?
I must confess, the time in Texas around the busy-people rubbed off on me. I used to not mind interruptions when working, but now I'm more irritable. "Can't you see I'm BUSY?!" I hate feeling that way.
I remember often saying, "I'm busy," right after I graduated college. Every time I said it, I knew it was a lie. That's right -- a lie. I wasn't busy. I was depressed. College was over. Friends moved away. I started a new job. I had been around only singles within a few years of my age, now I'm working with married people who are at least 10 years older than me, married, with children. But in our busy culture, "I'm busy," is the perfect excuse to get off the hook without actually saying anything... real.
The woman who mentored me in Omaha, she was (and is) busy, but she never made me feel like she was busy. She found ways to include people into daily life -- she'd have me over every week while she cleaned the house.
Being busy is a big value statement. Of course there's validity to times when we really are busy, but how do we communicate those times while still communicating people are valuable? I know in Texas, the messages was I'm too busy... for you. Or, you're not worth my time. But people do have worth -- and there needs to be a place of affirming a person's worth while being reasonable about the limited number of hours we have in a day.
But, this is not the case with the sentence, "I'm busy." Most children probably hear it before they're old enough to say it. The sentence is either said (or implied) often.
I first noticed the "I'm busy" in Texas. Everyone was so.... busy. It's not that people weren't busy in Omaha and Michigan. They were. They just didn't... make a show of it (for lack of better explanation). The whole structure of my church in Texas was built to address "I'm busy". You get involved in a life group (LG) so you can talk to your life group leader instead of the pastor because, hey, the pastor busy. And yeah, he is busy. It is logical. There was even an intermediary layer between the LG leaders and any of the pastors. But you should still only go to your LG leader, and your LG leader would determine if something you're dealing with should be brought up the chain, and they'll probably ask the person "above" them first. However, if you showed that you could "do the stuff" the church wanted (evangelism, discipleship, were just general "leadership" material), then he or other leaders would probably have time for you.
An example of this was with my friends we'll can Brian and Peggy. Most people, if they wanted to talk to the senior pastor, they'd have to wait a good two weeks. But Peggy "did the stuff" and was leadership material -- outgoing, out spoken, and just really done a lot of stuff. She knew she could get in to see the pastor within 2 days. But her husband who was a little more quiet (but complete effective at gathering men together... quietly) would have to wait the standard 2+ weeks.
It was all perfectly logical. I even had a dream to drive all this home -- that people are busy, I need to know my place, and stay in it. In the dream, I was at my youth pastor's house in Omaha while other people were there. But someone decided that I made myself too comfortable. They pointed out that if everyone made themselves comfortable, the pastor and his wife would be totally overrun with people, and they only had room in their lives for about 12 people, and nothing personal, but I just wasn't one of them. You know, they're busy. But the implication was that they would have room for me if I were just "better" or "more".
Sometimes "I'm busy" is just an excuse. We're not busy. Maybe we're overwhelmed, maybe we're depressed, or maybe we're just being lazy. But not necessarily busy. Of course, sometimes we really ARE busy. Working full time, being in grad school, going through a volunteer training course on Tuesdays and Thursdays this month plus other volunteer stuff... Yeah, I'm busy. So how do I organize my time so that I'm not too busy for what's REALLY important: people?
I must confess, the time in Texas around the busy-people rubbed off on me. I used to not mind interruptions when working, but now I'm more irritable. "Can't you see I'm BUSY?!" I hate feeling that way.
I remember often saying, "I'm busy," right after I graduated college. Every time I said it, I knew it was a lie. That's right -- a lie. I wasn't busy. I was depressed. College was over. Friends moved away. I started a new job. I had been around only singles within a few years of my age, now I'm working with married people who are at least 10 years older than me, married, with children. But in our busy culture, "I'm busy," is the perfect excuse to get off the hook without actually saying anything... real.
The woman who mentored me in Omaha, she was (and is) busy, but she never made me feel like she was busy. She found ways to include people into daily life -- she'd have me over every week while she cleaned the house.
Being busy is a big value statement. Of course there's validity to times when we really are busy, but how do we communicate those times while still communicating people are valuable? I know in Texas, the messages was I'm too busy... for you. Or, you're not worth my time. But people do have worth -- and there needs to be a place of affirming a person's worth while being reasonable about the limited number of hours we have in a day.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Roommates From ...
Over the years, I've lived with many people. Like 40, not counting family. Maybe even 50. Hold on, let me count.
...
...
...
...
...
52. FIFTY TWO. 53 if you count the girl who lived with my parents and us kids for several months.
That's really a lot of people. A lot of habits, a lot of idiosyncrasies, a lot of personalities, a lot of stuff lost/missing/stolen, a lot of...everything.
One roommate in Waco (my first non-temporary roommate), we'll call her Leslie, was... something else. She's actually the one who said, when I was trying to be open and build a relationship with my roommate, that moving across the country wasn't a big deal and her friends moved overseas and that was much harder. So I didn't bother talking to anyone about it, even when they said, "Must be hard leaving your friends and living far away from family!" (Which is another story, but we'll stick with this one.)
But there was more to my deciding not to talk to people.
This poor gal had some major struggles with insecurity. We actually had some of the same struggles, but I'd seen a lot of freedom in that area whereas she hadn't, and the issue continued to grow. For some reason... I became afraid of being like her.
She was pretty needy and draining, honestly. I wanted to be kind and listen -- you know, good roommate, caring about the person I lived with and listening to what was going on with her. So I did. Once for 6 hours. Straight. She would. not. stop. talking. I felt sucked dry, chewed up, and spit out. I can't even fully explain this... Every time I opened my mouth, she cut me off, even mid sentence, until I finally gave up and let her go, out of curiosity to see how long she could carry a conversation by herself. Too long. I literally had tears running down my face toward the end. Any time we talked, she didn't care about ANYTHING that I was thinking and feeling. If I voiced what I was going through, she would either dismiss it or talk about how she was totally good in whatever I was trying to process. Good for you.
For example...
I say: "It's hard moving, making new friends, figuring out who to talk to and share with about what's going on, since my friends from Michigan aren't here."
Leslie: "Well, I have a lot of people I can talk to. I know that if I ever need anything, I can call up Kevin and Stacy [one of the pastors and his wife]. I have their home number and cell number, and I can call any time. They might not answer, but I can leave a message and know they'll call me back..." etc etc and on and on for 10 minutes about everyone she can call and talk to. On multiple occasions.
Good. For. You.
It was really just her trying to cover up her insecurity and convince herself that she was valuable. I know that. Doesn't change the chewing-up and spitting out part of it, though...
Actually, the ultimate example of this was when we parted ways and were both moving out of the apartment. She was planning to move a certain weekend, so I planned to move the weekend prior so we weren't moving at the same time. I started asking people for help. Then she changed her move date to the EXACT AFTERNOON I was moving and asked pretty much all the same people for help, including borrowing the same truck. When she asked one guy, he told her, "I can't. Dina already asked me, and I'm helping her." Her response? In all seriousness. "But you've known me longer, so you should help me." He helped her to avoid backlash. She got first use of the truck as well. I ended up with, oh, almost no help. In fact, at first, Ruben was the only one who helped me... and he had a liver condition!!! That really pissed me off. B****. Oops. Did I think that?
She only got worse after that. The gal she lived with after me,T, found her twice after she tired to commit suicide. I don't even know what else went on, except that T got emotionally walloped herself. It put a strain on T's relationship with her boyfriend, because Leslie kept asking them for money, calling to interrupt dates because of an emotional crisis, even joining them on dates because she just couldn't be alone. My friend asked why no one in the church would help Leslie, so the pastor counted it up -- 22 people had spent significant time trying to help and counsel her. Most of them ended up being chewed up and spit out as well, needing a bit of counseling themselves, at the very least dropping out of any "leadership" role soon after. (Why on earth people in the church gave me the name of THIS girl to me, the NEW girl, to be my roommate is beyond me, other than she needed a roommate and no one else would live with her. It's also another story...)
What does this have to do with me not talking to people? If I talked to people about what was going on with me, I didn't want anyone to ever feel the way I did when she talked to me. I didn't want people to feel sucked dry. I didn't want to chew them up and spit them out. I didn't want to be needy. I didn't want to be draining. So, damn it, I wasn't taking any chances. I wouldn't really talk to people, that way I'd know I wasn't being like her. I would make sure I would NEVER go to people. I don't need people -- I'm supposed to get everything I need from God, not suck people dry, right?
I made a vow. Not the good kind. The kind that bites you back, in more ways than one. I missed one critical difference: I wasn't her and I wanted to listen to and care about people. It's okay to express myself, my heart, and for someone to listen to me as well. Some vows are meant to be broken.
Looking back, so are some apartment leases...
...
...
...
...
...
52. FIFTY TWO. 53 if you count the girl who lived with my parents and us kids for several months.
That's really a lot of people. A lot of habits, a lot of idiosyncrasies, a lot of personalities, a lot of stuff lost/missing/stolen, a lot of...everything.
One roommate in Waco (my first non-temporary roommate), we'll call her Leslie, was... something else. She's actually the one who said, when I was trying to be open and build a relationship with my roommate, that moving across the country wasn't a big deal and her friends moved overseas and that was much harder. So I didn't bother talking to anyone about it, even when they said, "Must be hard leaving your friends and living far away from family!" (Which is another story, but we'll stick with this one.)
But there was more to my deciding not to talk to people.
This poor gal had some major struggles with insecurity. We actually had some of the same struggles, but I'd seen a lot of freedom in that area whereas she hadn't, and the issue continued to grow. For some reason... I became afraid of being like her.
She was pretty needy and draining, honestly. I wanted to be kind and listen -- you know, good roommate, caring about the person I lived with and listening to what was going on with her. So I did. Once for 6 hours. Straight. She would. not. stop. talking. I felt sucked dry, chewed up, and spit out. I can't even fully explain this... Every time I opened my mouth, she cut me off, even mid sentence, until I finally gave up and let her go, out of curiosity to see how long she could carry a conversation by herself. Too long. I literally had tears running down my face toward the end. Any time we talked, she didn't care about ANYTHING that I was thinking and feeling. If I voiced what I was going through, she would either dismiss it or talk about how she was totally good in whatever I was trying to process. Good for you.
For example...
I say: "It's hard moving, making new friends, figuring out who to talk to and share with about what's going on, since my friends from Michigan aren't here."
Leslie: "Well, I have a lot of people I can talk to. I know that if I ever need anything, I can call up Kevin and Stacy [one of the pastors and his wife]. I have their home number and cell number, and I can call any time. They might not answer, but I can leave a message and know they'll call me back..." etc etc and on and on for 10 minutes about everyone she can call and talk to. On multiple occasions.
Good. For. You.
It was really just her trying to cover up her insecurity and convince herself that she was valuable. I know that. Doesn't change the chewing-up and spitting out part of it, though...
Actually, the ultimate example of this was when we parted ways and were both moving out of the apartment. She was planning to move a certain weekend, so I planned to move the weekend prior so we weren't moving at the same time. I started asking people for help. Then she changed her move date to the EXACT AFTERNOON I was moving and asked pretty much all the same people for help, including borrowing the same truck. When she asked one guy, he told her, "I can't. Dina already asked me, and I'm helping her." Her response? In all seriousness. "But you've known me longer, so you should help me." He helped her to avoid backlash. She got first use of the truck as well. I ended up with, oh, almost no help. In fact, at first, Ruben was the only one who helped me... and he had a liver condition!!! That really pissed me off. B****. Oops. Did I think that?
She only got worse after that. The gal she lived with after me,T, found her twice after she tired to commit suicide. I don't even know what else went on, except that T got emotionally walloped herself. It put a strain on T's relationship with her boyfriend, because Leslie kept asking them for money, calling to interrupt dates because of an emotional crisis, even joining them on dates because she just couldn't be alone. My friend asked why no one in the church would help Leslie, so the pastor counted it up -- 22 people had spent significant time trying to help and counsel her. Most of them ended up being chewed up and spit out as well, needing a bit of counseling themselves, at the very least dropping out of any "leadership" role soon after. (Why on earth people in the church gave me the name of THIS girl to me, the NEW girl, to be my roommate is beyond me, other than she needed a roommate and no one else would live with her. It's also another story...)
What does this have to do with me not talking to people? If I talked to people about what was going on with me, I didn't want anyone to ever feel the way I did when she talked to me. I didn't want people to feel sucked dry. I didn't want to chew them up and spit them out. I didn't want to be needy. I didn't want to be draining. So, damn it, I wasn't taking any chances. I wouldn't really talk to people, that way I'd know I wasn't being like her. I would make sure I would NEVER go to people. I don't need people -- I'm supposed to get everything I need from God, not suck people dry, right?
I made a vow. Not the good kind. The kind that bites you back, in more ways than one. I missed one critical difference: I wasn't her and I wanted to listen to and care about people. It's okay to express myself, my heart, and for someone to listen to me as well. Some vows are meant to be broken.
Looking back, so are some apartment leases...
Saturday, October 6, 2012
You Threw Off My Groove!
Remember the movie "The Emperor's New Groove"? Fun movie. Starts off with the emperor dancing and grooving, he bumps into someone and exclaims, "You threw off my groove!"
That's how I feel with writing. I used to journal regularly, but for the last many years, it hasn't happened as much, or in the same way with the same effectiveness. It was always a good way to organize my thoughts or process life events. I suppose if I haven't been doing that, it means that there are many years of unorganized thoughts and unprocessed events.
So, this last week, I've started trying to journal more.
Years ago, when I was about 12, I thought I was so forgiving, because nothing "bothered" me. But really, I was very good at forgetting...stuffing. Even though I "forgot", the impact of whatever circumstances were still there. Once I started journaling, it was all better processed, and not forgotten.
There are a lot of things I've forgotten since I left Omaha. I did some processing in Michigan. I know I cried daily for several months, missing the family and friends I left behind. And I know the Lord was with me, comforting me. Once I moved to Texas, almost all of my "process" journaling ceased. My groove was REALLY thrown off. I really missed my friends in Michigan, just as much as I did in Omaha, but I hardly cried at all. Someone told me that moving across the country wasn't a big deal, because moving overseas was harder. And for some reason I listened and decided I wasn't supposed to be upset about the whole thing.
Really? Leaving ALL OF YOUR FRIENDS and moving to a place where you know NO ONE isn't supposed to be upsetting? What crazy person would say or think that? Oh. But not really feeling it, being upset, crying, all that means that God never had the opportunity to meet me and comfort me in it -- not more than once here and once there.
I recently heard someone say that sometimes you need to rehash the same story and same feelings over and over again for a good long while in order to really process what has happened. In Michigan, the Lord had every day for months to meet me and comfort me. In Texas, every day during that first 12-18 months (when the grief of moving really sinks in) that I pretended to be fine was a day that the Lord didn't have opportunity to meet, comfort, and heal. The ironic thing about it is, when you don't allow yourself to experience what you're really feeling, God often gets the blame for everything that's going on, that you're upset about... and pretending not to be upset about.
That's how I feel with writing. I used to journal regularly, but for the last many years, it hasn't happened as much, or in the same way with the same effectiveness. It was always a good way to organize my thoughts or process life events. I suppose if I haven't been doing that, it means that there are many years of unorganized thoughts and unprocessed events.
So, this last week, I've started trying to journal more.
Years ago, when I was about 12, I thought I was so forgiving, because nothing "bothered" me. But really, I was very good at forgetting...stuffing. Even though I "forgot", the impact of whatever circumstances were still there. Once I started journaling, it was all better processed, and not forgotten.
There are a lot of things I've forgotten since I left Omaha. I did some processing in Michigan. I know I cried daily for several months, missing the family and friends I left behind. And I know the Lord was with me, comforting me. Once I moved to Texas, almost all of my "process" journaling ceased. My groove was REALLY thrown off. I really missed my friends in Michigan, just as much as I did in Omaha, but I hardly cried at all. Someone told me that moving across the country wasn't a big deal, because moving overseas was harder. And for some reason I listened and decided I wasn't supposed to be upset about the whole thing.
Really? Leaving ALL OF YOUR FRIENDS and moving to a place where you know NO ONE isn't supposed to be upsetting? What crazy person would say or think that? Oh. But not really feeling it, being upset, crying, all that means that God never had the opportunity to meet me and comfort me in it -- not more than once here and once there.
I recently heard someone say that sometimes you need to rehash the same story and same feelings over and over again for a good long while in order to really process what has happened. In Michigan, the Lord had every day for months to meet me and comfort me. In Texas, every day during that first 12-18 months (when the grief of moving really sinks in) that I pretended to be fine was a day that the Lord didn't have opportunity to meet, comfort, and heal. The ironic thing about it is, when you don't allow yourself to experience what you're really feeling, God often gets the blame for everything that's going on, that you're upset about... and pretending not to be upset about.
Friday, October 5, 2012
Crossed Signals
Communication can always be a challenge, but when communicating in a 2nd language, the challenges become.... well, extra special.
My thesis topic is second language acquisition of ASL by hearing adults, particularly in the area of phonology. What does that mean? (See, it's English, but most people still don't know.) What it means actually isn't important beyond the ramifications of said topic and my proficiency level in sign language.
I'm not that proficient. I can have a (slow) casual conversation. Sometimes I can understand speeches/sermons given at a regular signing rate. But discussing the details of 2nd language acquisition by hearing adults and examining how they learn phonology and what my procedures are... well, I don't know how to express that in ASL any more than most people understand what I'm talking about. Because this is my thesis, I need someone who's fluent, grew up using sign language, to help validate my study, essentially. I can come up with ideas of things to test, but I may I may miss a sign that's "right" or one that's "wrong".
And can I just say, it is exceedingly difficult to express something so technical and detailed in another language, even after doing it several times. Then it becomes frustrating. Every meeting is a huge undertaking, to plan what I'm going to say and how, and prepare a few documents to help me out in case I get stuck. Every conversation feels like it missed something. Perhaps because I can't fully communicate, or perhaps because I'm used to using speech. Every time I say "GOOD-BYE" in sign, I feel like I haven't really said good-bye -- it was just so silent.
So I've left meetings, wondering how well I was understood. Especially later if I don't get a response. "Did they really agree to help? What was the level of help they were willing to offer? Did they understand what I was saying? Did I understand what they were saying?" And did I miss something culturally? If I need to follow up, how do I do that? In email? Keep showing up at their door? I can't call them.
It's all so complicated!
My thesis topic is second language acquisition of ASL by hearing adults, particularly in the area of phonology. What does that mean? (See, it's English, but most people still don't know.) What it means actually isn't important beyond the ramifications of said topic and my proficiency level in sign language.
I'm not that proficient. I can have a (slow) casual conversation. Sometimes I can understand speeches/sermons given at a regular signing rate. But discussing the details of 2nd language acquisition by hearing adults and examining how they learn phonology and what my procedures are... well, I don't know how to express that in ASL any more than most people understand what I'm talking about. Because this is my thesis, I need someone who's fluent, grew up using sign language, to help validate my study, essentially. I can come up with ideas of things to test, but I may I may miss a sign that's "right" or one that's "wrong".
And can I just say, it is exceedingly difficult to express something so technical and detailed in another language, even after doing it several times. Then it becomes frustrating. Every meeting is a huge undertaking, to plan what I'm going to say and how, and prepare a few documents to help me out in case I get stuck. Every conversation feels like it missed something. Perhaps because I can't fully communicate, or perhaps because I'm used to using speech. Every time I say "GOOD-BYE" in sign, I feel like I haven't really said good-bye -- it was just so silent.
So I've left meetings, wondering how well I was understood. Especially later if I don't get a response. "Did they really agree to help? What was the level of help they were willing to offer? Did they understand what I was saying? Did I understand what they were saying?" And did I miss something culturally? If I need to follow up, how do I do that? In email? Keep showing up at their door? I can't call them.
It's all so complicated!
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Memories of Ruben
It's been almost 9 years since Ruben died. It's not something I've really talked about much. I'm not really sure what to say about it now. He was just a big papa bear.
I remember the first time I met him -- this big, intimidating-looking Mexican guy coming up to me to introduce himself. He was probably about the 100th person I'd met since moving to Texas. Not long after, he and his wife invited me over for lunch with them, their 4 kids, and another gal. I felt so awkward. I didn't know what to say or what to do. I hadn't really been around families like that in years -- rarely around mine, and less around my extended family. I didn't know what to say or do. And I was in such a swirl -- had only lived in Texas for a couple months, missed all my friends in Michigan, missed friends and family in Nebraska, and the Waco atmosphere was already getting to me, plus a slew of other crazy things. I left thinking, "Great, they'll never invite me back." But the next time he saw me, he came right up with a big smile and said, "So, when are you coming over again?" Like I was family, and it was expected.
Silly me... I felt so awkward that I was hesitant and didn't take advantage (in a good way) of his and his family's kindness. He always seemed so happy to see me. He always gave me a big hug. He'd always joke with me about how lousy the Huskers were and how great the Longhorns where. He was always willing to help. I didn't want to impose. Finally, I woke up one day and realized -- he really means it. I'm not going to impose. And that was the last time I saw him conscious. Later that day he went in for tests for his liver, I don't even know what exactly happened, but he ended up unconscious and never woke up again.
I rode up to Dallas, a 2 hour drive one way, with a few other people to visit him in the hospital. They'd known each other for years, me only a year. They spent the whole drive talking about college memories, reminiscing, talking about people and places long gone that I'd never met or seen. I wanted to join the conversation, but just couldn't figure out how. So I sat largely in silence on the drive up and back, seeing Ruben unconscious in the hospital between the awkward legs of the journey. He died not long after that.
For some reason, I felt like it wasn't right for me to cry. I thought I hadn't known him long enough. He wasn't my dad or technically a family member. I did everything in my power not to cry at his funeral. A couple tears did find their way out, but I really wanted to lay on the floor and weep -- sad for his family, sad for myself, kicking myself for being so slow to realize I was welcome, angry at God for taking him away the moment I realized it. But I didn't weep or cry or yell or even express anything that I was feeling. I mentioned to the church counselor that I didn't know how to respond, I wanted to cry, but felt guilty because I wasn't in his family -- wasn't I being selfish? She said I needed support his wife -- which I wanted to do, but it was also confirmation that it wasn't okay for me to be so upset about his death or to cry. (A couple years later I realized this wasn't true.) But because I felt like I needed to be so... unmoved, I felt more awkward and disconnected from the rest of the family.
His son is just like him. Welcoming, big heart. Great kid. Wow. He's probably 22 or 23 now.
Out of everything in Waco, everything with Ruben and his family is my biggest regret. Why was I so dense??! That last day, he gave me a ride to work from church (I didn't have a car at the time), after an early morning prayer meeting during a church-wide fast. I walked into work that day thinking, "Duh, Dina. He was totally happy to give you a ride to work. You don't have to worry." I knew him for 15 months out of 36 years, and 9 years later, I'm still crying that he's not here.
I remember the first time I met him -- this big, intimidating-looking Mexican guy coming up to me to introduce himself. He was probably about the 100th person I'd met since moving to Texas. Not long after, he and his wife invited me over for lunch with them, their 4 kids, and another gal. I felt so awkward. I didn't know what to say or what to do. I hadn't really been around families like that in years -- rarely around mine, and less around my extended family. I didn't know what to say or do. And I was in such a swirl -- had only lived in Texas for a couple months, missed all my friends in Michigan, missed friends and family in Nebraska, and the Waco atmosphere was already getting to me, plus a slew of other crazy things. I left thinking, "Great, they'll never invite me back." But the next time he saw me, he came right up with a big smile and said, "So, when are you coming over again?" Like I was family, and it was expected.
Silly me... I felt so awkward that I was hesitant and didn't take advantage (in a good way) of his and his family's kindness. He always seemed so happy to see me. He always gave me a big hug. He'd always joke with me about how lousy the Huskers were and how great the Longhorns where. He was always willing to help. I didn't want to impose. Finally, I woke up one day and realized -- he really means it. I'm not going to impose. And that was the last time I saw him conscious. Later that day he went in for tests for his liver, I don't even know what exactly happened, but he ended up unconscious and never woke up again.
I rode up to Dallas, a 2 hour drive one way, with a few other people to visit him in the hospital. They'd known each other for years, me only a year. They spent the whole drive talking about college memories, reminiscing, talking about people and places long gone that I'd never met or seen. I wanted to join the conversation, but just couldn't figure out how. So I sat largely in silence on the drive up and back, seeing Ruben unconscious in the hospital between the awkward legs of the journey. He died not long after that.
For some reason, I felt like it wasn't right for me to cry. I thought I hadn't known him long enough. He wasn't my dad or technically a family member. I did everything in my power not to cry at his funeral. A couple tears did find their way out, but I really wanted to lay on the floor and weep -- sad for his family, sad for myself, kicking myself for being so slow to realize I was welcome, angry at God for taking him away the moment I realized it. But I didn't weep or cry or yell or even express anything that I was feeling. I mentioned to the church counselor that I didn't know how to respond, I wanted to cry, but felt guilty because I wasn't in his family -- wasn't I being selfish? She said I needed support his wife -- which I wanted to do, but it was also confirmation that it wasn't okay for me to be so upset about his death or to cry. (A couple years later I realized this wasn't true.) But because I felt like I needed to be so... unmoved, I felt more awkward and disconnected from the rest of the family.
His son is just like him. Welcoming, big heart. Great kid. Wow. He's probably 22 or 23 now.
Out of everything in Waco, everything with Ruben and his family is my biggest regret. Why was I so dense??! That last day, he gave me a ride to work from church (I didn't have a car at the time), after an early morning prayer meeting during a church-wide fast. I walked into work that day thinking, "Duh, Dina. He was totally happy to give you a ride to work. You don't have to worry." I knew him for 15 months out of 36 years, and 9 years later, I'm still crying that he's not here.
Friday, May 18, 2012
San Diego!
So last week, I was asked if I wanted to go to a conference in San Diego and given about a day to think about it and decide. It would be a good experience. I'd get to brush up on some skills, refresh my memory, and learn new things, as well as meet other people at other schools doing the same thing -- network. I like networking. And the conference is at the Catamaran Resort and Spa Hotel. On the beach. Of a bay. And the ocean. What does that mean? The hotel is practically surrounded by beach and water. Going was a no brainer.
Because I was the only one going, I could have brought someone with me, and tried to work something out, but things just seemed to fall through, and it was a quick, last minute thing. So I did the first thing I usually do when trying to make a complex decision involving people -- I stressed out and over-analyzed. After about a day of that, I decided maybe I should do the smart thing and, oh, I don't know... pray about it. And... I felt like I was supposed to go alone (as did another friend). The next day I got into work and the person who was helping to arrange everything said, "What are the exact dates? I'm looking at plane tickets for your trip." And that was that.
I used to go on vacations by myself every summer. I started doing that because I decided it was good to go on a vacation, and even if I didn't have anyone to go with, I figured it would still be good to get out and experience something. I decided that these were my "vacation with God", and I'd just hang with Him. In Smokey Mountain National Park. Or Nashville. Or Florida. Or Oregon. Or wherever. He always hooked me up with people to hang out with for part of the time, but then it was also just He and I for part of the time. That's what this San Diego conference kinda feels like. I'll have time with people, but it'll also just be the two of us. It's almost like He set up a bit of vacation (with some work) to enjoy, and paid for it an everything. I've never been to San Diego before. We have a few evenings free, so I'll be able to just relax and enjoy it and not have to worry about cost or anything -- just relax and hang out with Him.
Which will bring me to another topic for next time...
Because I was the only one going, I could have brought someone with me, and tried to work something out, but things just seemed to fall through, and it was a quick, last minute thing. So I did the first thing I usually do when trying to make a complex decision involving people -- I stressed out and over-analyzed. After about a day of that, I decided maybe I should do the smart thing and, oh, I don't know... pray about it. And... I felt like I was supposed to go alone (as did another friend). The next day I got into work and the person who was helping to arrange everything said, "What are the exact dates? I'm looking at plane tickets for your trip." And that was that.
I used to go on vacations by myself every summer. I started doing that because I decided it was good to go on a vacation, and even if I didn't have anyone to go with, I figured it would still be good to get out and experience something. I decided that these were my "vacation with God", and I'd just hang with Him. In Smokey Mountain National Park. Or Nashville. Or Florida. Or Oregon. Or wherever. He always hooked me up with people to hang out with for part of the time, but then it was also just He and I for part of the time. That's what this San Diego conference kinda feels like. I'll have time with people, but it'll also just be the two of us. It's almost like He set up a bit of vacation (with some work) to enjoy, and paid for it an everything. I've never been to San Diego before. We have a few evenings free, so I'll be able to just relax and enjoy it and not have to worry about cost or anything -- just relax and hang out with Him.
Which will bring me to another topic for next time...
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
A Little of This and That
I love being in California. And yes, I do like the summer. I know it gets up to 105. But with the heat index, it does that in Nebraska and Texas too. But a dry 105 feels like 99! It's amazing. I'll take it.
I'm done with classes and ready for summer. I'm doing a week long CRI (Crisis Response International) training, which will be anything but restful. It looks like I'm going to a conference at a hotel right on the beach in San Diego for about 5 days, which should be wonderful!
Today my professor beefed up my paper's abstract and submitted it to an early Novemeber conference in Boston. And I hope to work on my "previous work" section of my thesis and get other time-consuming things in order and taken care of. Maybe I'll work on writing a book. I've always thought about doing that. And just read a book or two for fun. What's that like?? I'm not sure that I remember!
And, of course, I'm going to relax, hang out, have fun. So far, so good! I've been doing such a good job at having fun, that I'm falling asleep, yet again.
I'm done with classes and ready for summer. I'm doing a week long CRI (Crisis Response International) training, which will be anything but restful. It looks like I'm going to a conference at a hotel right on the beach in San Diego for about 5 days, which should be wonderful!
Today my professor beefed up my paper's abstract and submitted it to an early Novemeber conference in Boston. And I hope to work on my "previous work" section of my thesis and get other time-consuming things in order and taken care of. Maybe I'll work on writing a book. I've always thought about doing that. And just read a book or two for fun. What's that like?? I'm not sure that I remember!
And, of course, I'm going to relax, hang out, have fun. So far, so good! I've been doing such a good job at having fun, that I'm falling asleep, yet again.
Monday, May 14, 2012
Soft Heart
One
thing that has always amazed me about God is that He maintains a soft heart,
continuing to love, through anything we may do.
It’s an area where we’re just so completely unlike Him. It doesn’t mean that He doesn’t get angry or
doesn’t have boundaries. But He doesn’t
have “attitude” that comes with it. You
know the kind of attitude I’m talking about, don’t you? The “well, fine – be that way!” Or, “Oh yeah?
I’ll show you.” There’s no
bitterness or resentment, there's no "got'cha" or "I'll get you". He doesn’t go on the attack or withdraw, He doesn’t
manipulate, or exhibit any of the internal ‘tude that we’re all prone to have
when relationships or circumstances or life in general don’t go our way.
Picture
it: You’ve spent just about every day of your life for the past 3 years with a
group of a dozen friends. You’ve taught
them everything you could. You’ve
answered their questions. You’ve gone to
parties with them. You’ve been patient
with them. You’ve healed their sick
relatives. They’ve watched you heal
countless people. You called them
family. But the moment the authorities
decide there’s something wrong with you and arrest you… they all
disappear. They abandon you. Even all-out reject you, or deny ever knowing
you. After 3 years of sharing
everything, they’re just gone.
Then
to be beaten and tortured, left totally alone, and nailed to a cross – all totaling
hours of increasingly excruciating pain.
What would any of us do? Wouldn’t
we just snap at some point? In the midst
of the physical pain plus the mental and emotional pain of being abandoned by
those closest to you, wouldn’t you yell out, “SCREW YOU!”? Or at the very least, mentally berate them
for being the most worthless set of friends on the planet? But He said, “Father, forgive them.” And maybe He wasn’t only referring to the
people who were there.
When
we’re hurt or offended or under pressure – even just feeling over-busy at work –
we tend to snap, go on the attack, or withdraw.
But Jesus never did that – never does that. It’s one of the things that amazes me most
about His character – He heart is always soft and loving. He always leaves His heart open, yet He’s
also not a doormat and does still maintain boundaries. He’s always ready, willing and wanting us to
come back at any moment without feeling any residual “junk” about what we’ve
said to Him or how we’ve treated Him or ignored Him, and there's no expectation of "making up for it". He doesn’t have past, bad experiences that
continue to stick with Him and influence how He interacts with and responds to
people. He’s just always Himself: unchanged
by any outside force, but instead pure and untarnished, loving and soft-hearted. That's what I want to be like.
It's a Blog!
It has been suggested that I start a blog in which to post some of my random musings. I'd been thinking about it anyway, so, hey, might as well! No promises to how this will go. But hopefully the next time I post, I'll at least be more awake than I am now.
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