Lately my soul has been craving adventure, a change from the norm. There is a part of me that needs the adventure of experiencing other cultures, learning from other people and other ways of life. Being a single waitressing/bartending grad student, funds limit my ability to do this as often as I would like. Let's be real. If I could travel as a professional lifestyle, I would.
Simultaneously, my soul has been craving solidarity with the poor. I miss the slums of Cambodia. I miss the streets of Thailand. I miss the barefooted children I meet in dumps and play soccer with in garbage settlements. I love their little feet, their little smiles, the simple delight in their eyes when they play. I love what they teach me about life and love.
I've also been wanting to get into a healthy rhythm of eating lately. Working in a bar/restaurant has NOT helped the weight goals. And while I want to say me and my health is enough to keep my from snacking on messed up orders, potato chips, fries and other health hazards conveniently within arms reach, its not. I need a purpose beyond myself. Or rather, a purpose deeper within myself.
And I've been missing my spiritual rhythms...things that tie me to humanity and the common human experience. Things that keep me mindful of the world around me that looks so different than the world in front of me. Things that keep me rooted in love and God and compassion and justice and mercy on a daily basis. Things that feed my soul, my spirit, my heart, and my mind. I need a deepening to occur in my life.
All of this has been stewing in me for at least a year, if not longer. And tonight it came to a solution. A four year solution. A four year journey. A four year adventure.
I'm going to dedicate each week to a different country in the world (40/52 weeks that is. I'm realistic and am leaving room for travel and life to occur....they say 80/20 is the goal with clean eating... so I stuck with those numbers for this adventure).
One day a week I'm going to eat only what the poor eat in that country, and spend time as I do praying for solutions to global poverty and hunger and other issues that plague the country. For the rest of the week, I will set aside one meal a day to eat a traditional, common dish of the country (probably the same dish every day....cook enough of the common dish to last five meals throughout the week), thanking God for the people and culture that provide the dish. One day a week I rest/have a free day. During the week I will research that country and learn more about my global family. I even plan to eat the foreign dish like the locals do (country #1 is Afghanistan and they eat with their fingers... not going to lie... super looking forward to doing this).
This may not seem exciting to you, but I am so looking forward to this rhythm and discipline. I'm excited to learn and explore other cultures, learn more about global issues that face these cultures, and grow intellectually and spiritually through this. I plan to post regularly about my experiences, the dishes I'm eating, and the things I'm learning. I'm excited to see how this develops and plays out over the years to come. I'm so excited for this rhythm and the richness I can already feel it holds.
I know it's going to wreck me. How do you read stories of children dying from malnutrition and not be effected? How do you invite the stories of injustice into your heart and not be changed? Especially living in an environment fueled by consumption and waste? Sure, there will be weeks that are less heart breaking food wise than others... but there will be some that are absolutely heartbreaking. It'll be a journey. It'll be a ride.
But I'm ready. I'm ready to discover. To learn. To grow.
Wednesday, May 6, 2015
Wednesday, April 29, 2015
Unapologetically Me: The Wrestle
Unapologetically me.
I don't even know what that means. My entire life I've felt like who I am is a need to apologize. People love me in spite of weirdness; in spite of my harshness; in spite of my weight; in spite of my ideologies and theologies; in spite of my crazy; in spite of my depression and anxiety; in spite of my lack to be the perfect person that I think I need to be. (this is my perception, not actual truth. I know my friends well enough to know this is not actually how they feel).
My voice scares me. Not my literal voice that's louder than a herd of elephants in distress (I actually enjoy my physical voice). I'm talking about me. My voice; that thing that represents my inner most thoughts, emotions, feelings, vulnerabilities, perceptions, story, ideology, theology. It scares me because I'm not sure it fits.
Like many of my fellow midwestern born compadres, I grew up in a world where the relative norms and boundaries were pretty clear to me. Be this. Do that. Don't be this. Don't do that. Don't associate with this. Make sure you look like that. Be unique, but only as long as that uniqueness doesn't disappoint those you look up to....as long as that uniqueness still fits the acceptable social norms and stereotypes.
As a teenager I lashed out against these norms and stereotypes. As a young adult I came back to them. Now, in my late twenties, I find I'm in an interesting spot for a lack of better terminology. I find I still don't fit the norms around me. I don't agree with the norms and expectations I see enforced in the world that surrounds me. But this time it's not from a place of rebellion.
Truth be told, all I really want is to fit. To be accepted. To be valued. To be normal. To feel like my voice is something that is accepted for what it is, no expectations to change or be changed. And yet I am ever so aware that this is not the case. As a Christian woman, I don't fit. And I don't know if I agree with everything I am taught and told, but to disagree is communicated to me to not belong; to be rebellious; to be sinful, justifying my "flesh" and denying God; to be displeasing to God; to be a disappointment and failure to my leaders and elders.
I don't fit in the system. And this truth terrifies me. To not be acceptable/accepted by God is my deepest fear, and the worst thing that could happen. Because the truth of my story is I was once deeply lost, shattered, alone, broken, without home, without place, without value, without purpose, without voice.
Now my fear is that the voice I have begun to develop is completely unacceptable to the One who has holistically loved me since day one. I think the feeling I'm describing is shame. To the world around me, I think, "of course God loves you. why wouldn't God love you, no matter what." But to apply this to myself seems almost impossible. Why can't I see myself the way I see others? As beautiful, perfect beings worthy of love regardless of any "social taboos"?
My dilemma is this: I don't know how to exist apart from my identity in God. And I don't want to. My journey with God is what has taught me to be compassionate, to see the unseen, to value people, to engage health and restoration, to seek peace and justice, to fall in love with slum children and trafficked victims. I no longer know who I am outside of God. And I don't want to know that person again. That person was selfish, mean, destructive, abusive. I love who I am right now, and I love this person because God has taught me to love. To accept the parts of me that I once saw unacceptable; to embrace the parts of me I once found unembracable; to share the parts of me I once found unshareable, to live life in such a way that without God I could not live.
My struggle is not in my relationship with God. It's not even with my relationship to the world around me. My struggle is with the community of faith, the Christians and believers in this world. Because my sin, my life, in many ways is unacceptable...condemnable... enough to make me unworthy and question if this God--who when I sit here and type I know loves me and only longs to love me--actually can in fact love me because I don't measure up to the social norms and laws conjured by the institution of this God.
And I don't know what to do with that, with this. I don't know how to live and breathe in this institution and not feel like who I am somehow doesn't measure up, isn't worthy. I have to become this perfect person, and then, when all of the imposed standards are met, I will be loved.
The problem is, I tried. I tried to live up to and be these standards. And they don't work for me. I can't live under the weight they impose. I can't thrive, breathe, or be.
And yet I love God. Love God. LOVE GOD.
Can I go to God in my sin and be fully loved and restored?
What does restoration mean?
What is the purpose of restoration?
What is the purpose of this life?
Is it to not drink, not smoke, not swear, not have sex, and to do everything right as defined by a group of people as being right? (I mean seriously, what the hell is right? And was the purpose ever "right or wrong"? Or is that something we discovered only after the fall?)
Or is it perhaps to love unconditionally and be unconditionally loved, regardless of everything else in life?
I meet and interact with God in places that would be taboo in church circles. God meets me in the place that I am.
I want to live. I want to be fully alive. I want to fully experience life and all that it holds. I don't want to feel limited or inhibited by these rules. I don't want to die someday and realize I never lived... that I did these amazing things but never let my story and my voice come to life.
What does it mean to be human and to follow God?
I remember when I was fighting high-risk pre cancerous cervical cells, someone said to me that the reason this all happened was because I had sinned (lived a life of sin aka was having sex outside of marriage). And at the time it stuck with me. If I could just live according to God's law and do everything right, everything would be ok. So I tried that. And you know what? Things still fell apart. Shit still happened. Bad things didn't disappear.. I just became an arrogant, self-righteous person with an answer for everything. Life was simple, but oppressive.
Now? Now I'm not so sure. Now I wrestle. I wrestle with what it means to follow Jesus in this world we live in. I wrestle with what it means to have hope and restoration. I know beyond a doubt that beauty for ashes exists.... but I am so tired of that meaning we sweep our ashes under the rug or outside and create our own definitions of beauty.
Maybe the true beauty is that beyond every reason I could give God not to love me, this God in fact does love me.
A friend and I converse often about reading what we call the red letters, the words recorded as having been spoken by Jesus during his time on this earth. In those red letters it's written that he said "All of the laws can be summed up as this. Love the Lord your God, and love your neighbor as yourself." "Seek and ye shall find."
I'm seeking. I'm seeking to find what it means to love God and love self and love neighbors and love creation.
I think it's funny that the response of the religious leaders at the time was to ask Jesus who our neighbors are. Given a simple instruction to love, we still sought to find some boundary, some out, some reason to complicate a simple command.
I don't know what it means to love, but it's what I seek.
And I don't know what it means to be unapologetically me, but it is the journey I am embracing and beginning to walk. And if you don't like it, that's ok. But don't be an asshole and hinder my walk. Don't be an asshole and judge it. Because my reality is this: I know what life outside of God looks like, and I want no part of it. And I know what life inside the institution and rules looks like, and I want no part of it. But I do want a life where I walk with God, where I come to life, and where those around me come to life as well.
I'm going to find my voice. I'm going to share my story. I'm going to be me. And I'm going to do it unapologetically. Not from a place of rebellion, but from a place rooted deeply in love, grace, kindness, acceptance, beauty and truth. And my hope is that this humble little offering of a life and voice is in fact pleasing to the One who gave me this life.
it scares me. But it's mine.
I don't even know what that means. My entire life I've felt like who I am is a need to apologize. People love me in spite of weirdness; in spite of my harshness; in spite of my weight; in spite of my ideologies and theologies; in spite of my crazy; in spite of my depression and anxiety; in spite of my lack to be the perfect person that I think I need to be. (this is my perception, not actual truth. I know my friends well enough to know this is not actually how they feel).
My voice scares me. Not my literal voice that's louder than a herd of elephants in distress (I actually enjoy my physical voice). I'm talking about me. My voice; that thing that represents my inner most thoughts, emotions, feelings, vulnerabilities, perceptions, story, ideology, theology. It scares me because I'm not sure it fits.
Like many of my fellow midwestern born compadres, I grew up in a world where the relative norms and boundaries were pretty clear to me. Be this. Do that. Don't be this. Don't do that. Don't associate with this. Make sure you look like that. Be unique, but only as long as that uniqueness doesn't disappoint those you look up to....as long as that uniqueness still fits the acceptable social norms and stereotypes.
As a teenager I lashed out against these norms and stereotypes. As a young adult I came back to them. Now, in my late twenties, I find I'm in an interesting spot for a lack of better terminology. I find I still don't fit the norms around me. I don't agree with the norms and expectations I see enforced in the world that surrounds me. But this time it's not from a place of rebellion.
Truth be told, all I really want is to fit. To be accepted. To be valued. To be normal. To feel like my voice is something that is accepted for what it is, no expectations to change or be changed. And yet I am ever so aware that this is not the case. As a Christian woman, I don't fit. And I don't know if I agree with everything I am taught and told, but to disagree is communicated to me to not belong; to be rebellious; to be sinful, justifying my "flesh" and denying God; to be displeasing to God; to be a disappointment and failure to my leaders and elders.
I don't fit in the system. And this truth terrifies me. To not be acceptable/accepted by God is my deepest fear, and the worst thing that could happen. Because the truth of my story is I was once deeply lost, shattered, alone, broken, without home, without place, without value, without purpose, without voice.
Now my fear is that the voice I have begun to develop is completely unacceptable to the One who has holistically loved me since day one. I think the feeling I'm describing is shame. To the world around me, I think, "of course God loves you. why wouldn't God love you, no matter what." But to apply this to myself seems almost impossible. Why can't I see myself the way I see others? As beautiful, perfect beings worthy of love regardless of any "social taboos"?
My dilemma is this: I don't know how to exist apart from my identity in God. And I don't want to. My journey with God is what has taught me to be compassionate, to see the unseen, to value people, to engage health and restoration, to seek peace and justice, to fall in love with slum children and trafficked victims. I no longer know who I am outside of God. And I don't want to know that person again. That person was selfish, mean, destructive, abusive. I love who I am right now, and I love this person because God has taught me to love. To accept the parts of me that I once saw unacceptable; to embrace the parts of me I once found unembracable; to share the parts of me I once found unshareable, to live life in such a way that without God I could not live.
My struggle is not in my relationship with God. It's not even with my relationship to the world around me. My struggle is with the community of faith, the Christians and believers in this world. Because my sin, my life, in many ways is unacceptable...condemnable... enough to make me unworthy and question if this God--who when I sit here and type I know loves me and only longs to love me--actually can in fact love me because I don't measure up to the social norms and laws conjured by the institution of this God.
And I don't know what to do with that, with this. I don't know how to live and breathe in this institution and not feel like who I am somehow doesn't measure up, isn't worthy. I have to become this perfect person, and then, when all of the imposed standards are met, I will be loved.
The problem is, I tried. I tried to live up to and be these standards. And they don't work for me. I can't live under the weight they impose. I can't thrive, breathe, or be.
And yet I love God. Love God. LOVE GOD.
Can I go to God in my sin and be fully loved and restored?
What does restoration mean?
What is the purpose of restoration?
What is the purpose of this life?
Is it to not drink, not smoke, not swear, not have sex, and to do everything right as defined by a group of people as being right? (I mean seriously, what the hell is right? And was the purpose ever "right or wrong"? Or is that something we discovered only after the fall?)
Or is it perhaps to love unconditionally and be unconditionally loved, regardless of everything else in life?
I meet and interact with God in places that would be taboo in church circles. God meets me in the place that I am.
I want to live. I want to be fully alive. I want to fully experience life and all that it holds. I don't want to feel limited or inhibited by these rules. I don't want to die someday and realize I never lived... that I did these amazing things but never let my story and my voice come to life.
What does it mean to be human and to follow God?
I remember when I was fighting high-risk pre cancerous cervical cells, someone said to me that the reason this all happened was because I had sinned (lived a life of sin aka was having sex outside of marriage). And at the time it stuck with me. If I could just live according to God's law and do everything right, everything would be ok. So I tried that. And you know what? Things still fell apart. Shit still happened. Bad things didn't disappear.. I just became an arrogant, self-righteous person with an answer for everything. Life was simple, but oppressive.
Now? Now I'm not so sure. Now I wrestle. I wrestle with what it means to follow Jesus in this world we live in. I wrestle with what it means to have hope and restoration. I know beyond a doubt that beauty for ashes exists.... but I am so tired of that meaning we sweep our ashes under the rug or outside and create our own definitions of beauty.
Maybe the true beauty is that beyond every reason I could give God not to love me, this God in fact does love me.
A friend and I converse often about reading what we call the red letters, the words recorded as having been spoken by Jesus during his time on this earth. In those red letters it's written that he said "All of the laws can be summed up as this. Love the Lord your God, and love your neighbor as yourself." "Seek and ye shall find."
I'm seeking. I'm seeking to find what it means to love God and love self and love neighbors and love creation.
I think it's funny that the response of the religious leaders at the time was to ask Jesus who our neighbors are. Given a simple instruction to love, we still sought to find some boundary, some out, some reason to complicate a simple command.
I don't know what it means to love, but it's what I seek.
And I don't know what it means to be unapologetically me, but it is the journey I am embracing and beginning to walk. And if you don't like it, that's ok. But don't be an asshole and hinder my walk. Don't be an asshole and judge it. Because my reality is this: I know what life outside of God looks like, and I want no part of it. And I know what life inside the institution and rules looks like, and I want no part of it. But I do want a life where I walk with God, where I come to life, and where those around me come to life as well.
I'm going to find my voice. I'm going to share my story. I'm going to be me. And I'm going to do it unapologetically. Not from a place of rebellion, but from a place rooted deeply in love, grace, kindness, acceptance, beauty and truth. And my hope is that this humble little offering of a life and voice is in fact pleasing to the One who gave me this life.
it scares me. But it's mine.
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