Abide
The past few weeks have been a season of tiredness and anxiety for me. I don't fully understand the cause, but I've felt buried under work and ministry commitments. My joy has been lacking, and I feel burdened by a sense of duty.
This song by Jenny & Tyler has helped me meditate on Truth.
Abide
You strive, O man, and you strive again/
Your heart too proud to rest/
You labor on singing those songs/
To cover your weakness/
Do you fail to recall who you really are/
And Who caused you to be?/
Return, O man, return and rest/
To a burden light and yoke easy/
Abide in your Savior. Abide in His love/
The labor of God is to trust in the Son/
O you possess, do you forget?/
As if by your own strength/
You earned it? No./
He gave you all, everything you have/
Your righteousness/
Your light, your breath/
Your daily bread and wine/
His blood, His flesh/
His love, His death/
Your faith and endless life/
Abide in your Savior. Abide in His love/
The labor of God is to trust in the Son/
Thankful.
Maybe it’s cliché: the “why I’m thankful” blog entry during Thanksgiving week.
But the whole reason for the holiday is (turkey? Nope. Football? Uh-uh. Shopping? NO.) to intentionally stop and give thanks for all that we have to the One who gives it.
Elisabeth Elliot, one of my all-time favorite authors, has a fitting chapter in her book Keep A Quiet Heart:
Some people are substituting “Turkey Day” for Thanksgiving. I guess it must be because they are not aware that there’s anybody to thank, and they think that the most important thing about the holiday is food. Christians know there is Somebody to thank, but often when we make a list of things to thank Him for we include only things we like. A bride and groom can’t get away with that. They write a note t everybody, not only the rich uncle who gave the couple matching BMWs, but the poor aunt who gave them a crocheted toilet-paper cover. In other words, they have to express thanks for whatever they’ve received.
Wouldn’t that be a good thing for us to do with God? We are meant to give thanks “in everything” even if we’re like the little girl l who said she could think of a lot of things she’d rather have than eternal life. The mature Christian offers not just polite thanks but heartfelt thanks that springs from a far deeper source than his own pleasure. Thanksgiving is a spiritual exercise, necessary to the building of a healthy soul. It takes us out of the stuffiness of ourselves into the fresh breeze and sunlight of the will of God. The simple act of thanking Him is for most of us an abrupt change of activity, a break from work and worry, a move toward re-creation.
And another thought on why we should give thanks even when God doesn’t give us what we ask:
“God never witholds from His child that which His love and wisdom call good. God's refusals are always merciful -- "severe mercies" at times but mercies all the same. God never denies us our hearts desire except to give us something better.” -Elisabeth Elliot
But the whole reason for the holiday is (turkey? Nope. Football? Uh-uh. Shopping? NO.) to intentionally stop and give thanks for all that we have to the One who gives it.
Elisabeth Elliot, one of my all-time favorite authors, has a fitting chapter in her book Keep A Quiet Heart:
Some people are substituting “Turkey Day” for Thanksgiving. I guess it must be because they are not aware that there’s anybody to thank, and they think that the most important thing about the holiday is food. Christians know there is Somebody to thank, but often when we make a list of things to thank Him for we include only things we like. A bride and groom can’t get away with that. They write a note t everybody, not only the rich uncle who gave the couple matching BMWs, but the poor aunt who gave them a crocheted toilet-paper cover. In other words, they have to express thanks for whatever they’ve received.
Wouldn’t that be a good thing for us to do with God? We are meant to give thanks “in everything” even if we’re like the little girl l who said she could think of a lot of things she’d rather have than eternal life. The mature Christian offers not just polite thanks but heartfelt thanks that springs from a far deeper source than his own pleasure. Thanksgiving is a spiritual exercise, necessary to the building of a healthy soul. It takes us out of the stuffiness of ourselves into the fresh breeze and sunlight of the will of God. The simple act of thanking Him is for most of us an abrupt change of activity, a break from work and worry, a move toward re-creation.
And another thought on why we should give thanks even when God doesn’t give us what we ask:
“God never witholds from His child that which His love and wisdom call good. God's refusals are always merciful -- "severe mercies" at times but mercies all the same. God never denies us our hearts desire except to give us something better.” -Elisabeth Elliot
Enseñando y Aprendiendo
“I’m reading a really interesting book and would like to share some of it with you in class today.” I hold up Just Like Us , which tells the story of four Mexican teenagers growing up in America. Faces show interest and curiosity, until the next words leave my mouth: “We’ll also be discussing the topic of illegal immigration and what kind of impact it has.” Now I notice hesitation, averted eyes.
Though all of the students in my adult ESL class are documented, I know this is a delicate subject. Some may have entered the country illegally themselves, but all certainly have loved ones who are living here under the radar. I didn’t plan this lesson to make anyone squirm, though. Just Like Us resonates deeply with me: it not only strikes a chord with my personal experience of having a foot in two cultures, but it brings to mind the numerous immigrants I’ve befriended—some with papers, some without. In her book, Helen Thorpe movingly chronicles the internal and external struggles of four young women as they face the obstacles and tensions brought on by the lack of a green card.
My students soon relax as they catch on that my intention is not to judge but to listen. I am floored by their candidness and soon forget that this is a foreign language class; their limited English is no hindrance as they poignantly voice their experiences:
Marta: “The thing is that we do everything for our children. We bring them here so they can have a better future. But then they get big and they ask us, “Why did you bring me here?” when they see how hard it is. They had no choice to come here, and they complain. But for us it hurts because we brought them so their lives could be better.”
Yesenia: “I tell my kids, “You are lucky! When you know another culture, your mind becomes open [her closed fists burst open to demonstrate]. Maybe other kids make fun of you for being different, but we wouldn’t have the rainbow without all the colors. We need everyone: white, black, brown, people with covered heads, everyone—they make life beautiful.”
Luisa: “You know, the quality of life is better there [in Dominican Republic, her native country]. There you have all your family close. And it’s your culture. But there are more opportunities here.”
Oscar: “Which one is wrong, the American government or the illegal immigrant? I can’t say that one is wrong. Do we have to blame someone? Everyone wants the same thing: a chance to work, a better life.”
In ESL class today, I became the student. My carefully crafted lesson plan took the back seat as I listened, engrossed, as these adults opened my eyes to their world, letting me in on some of the internal and external issues they and their children face.
American or Mexican, documented or not, teacher or student, we all agree with Thorpe’s statement in her introduction to Just Like Us: “In the end, though, this is what immigration is like: inherently messy. The issue bleeds. And we are all implicated.”
Though all of the students in my adult ESL class are documented, I know this is a delicate subject. Some may have entered the country illegally themselves, but all certainly have loved ones who are living here under the radar. I didn’t plan this lesson to make anyone squirm, though. Just Like Us resonates deeply with me: it not only strikes a chord with my personal experience of having a foot in two cultures, but it brings to mind the numerous immigrants I’ve befriended—some with papers, some without. In her book, Helen Thorpe movingly chronicles the internal and external struggles of four young women as they face the obstacles and tensions brought on by the lack of a green card.
My students soon relax as they catch on that my intention is not to judge but to listen. I am floored by their candidness and soon forget that this is a foreign language class; their limited English is no hindrance as they poignantly voice their experiences:
Marta: “The thing is that we do everything for our children. We bring them here so they can have a better future. But then they get big and they ask us, “Why did you bring me here?” when they see how hard it is. They had no choice to come here, and they complain. But for us it hurts because we brought them so their lives could be better.”
Yesenia: “I tell my kids, “You are lucky! When you know another culture, your mind becomes open [her closed fists burst open to demonstrate]. Maybe other kids make fun of you for being different, but we wouldn’t have the rainbow without all the colors. We need everyone: white, black, brown, people with covered heads, everyone—they make life beautiful.”
Luisa: “You know, the quality of life is better there [in Dominican Republic, her native country]. There you have all your family close. And it’s your culture. But there are more opportunities here.”
Oscar: “Which one is wrong, the American government or the illegal immigrant? I can’t say that one is wrong. Do we have to blame someone? Everyone wants the same thing: a chance to work, a better life.”
In ESL class today, I became the student. My carefully crafted lesson plan took the back seat as I listened, engrossed, as these adults opened my eyes to their world, letting me in on some of the internal and external issues they and their children face.
American or Mexican, documented or not, teacher or student, we all agree with Thorpe’s statement in her introduction to Just Like Us: “In the end, though, this is what immigration is like: inherently messy. The issue bleeds. And we are all implicated.”
When being captive is a good thing:
"The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds...we take every thought captive to make it obedient to Christ." 2 Corinthians 10:4-5
I'm encouraged that winning over my thought life is possible. When those daydreams and distractions--or panic and worry--well up inside, God, teach me to wield these weapons of divine power. Through your strength, I can arrest, detain, and subjugate my wayward thoughts!
I'm encouraged that winning over my thought life is possible. When those daydreams and distractions--or panic and worry--well up inside, God, teach me to wield these weapons of divine power. Through your strength, I can arrest, detain, and subjugate my wayward thoughts!
"Almighty God, you alone can bring into order the unruly wills and affections of sinners. Grant your people grace to love what you command and desire what you promise; that, among the swift and varied changes of the world, our hearts may surely there be fixed where true joys are to be found; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever."
-from the Book of Common Prayer, emphasis added.
-from the Book of Common Prayer, emphasis added.
Spare Oom
Honestly, “reverse culture shock” hasn’t hit me too hard. Yet, anyway.
The first couple days, I soaked in the pleasures of Chick-fil-A, air conditioning, and Target.
It didn’t take long to readjust to life here: I remembered that you can flush the toilet paper after just a few times. Driving a car after a year of public transportation wasn’t as strange as I expected. I re-learned the roads fairly quickly. Using a dishwasher and clothes dryer is once again part of my routine. One hour listening to G105, and I’ve caught up on the year’s hits.
And North Carolina is pretty much how I left it.
But…something’s different…
I spent a year in South America. I’m not fully aware of the implications of that, but I know that I’m not the same person I was 12 months ago. Even though I haven’t experienced major re-entry issues, I guess it would be hard to slip effortlessly back into life in the U.S.
As if I’ve re-entered the “Spare Oom” after slipping through the wardrobe into Narnia, it seems hard to believe that I’ve been in another “world” for the past year. I’m sure my absence was felt less here than my presence was there. And though people believe that I was in Colombia, I sympathize with Lucy’s feelings of solitude—loneliness—that result from having no one else with whom to share her experience.
Lucy ran out of the empty room into the passage and found the other three.
“It’s all right,” she repeated, “I’ve come back.”
“What on earth are you talking about, Lucy?” asked Susan.
“Why?” said Lucy in amazement. “Haven’t you all been wondering where I was?”
“So you’ve been hiding, have you?” said Peter. “Poor old Lu, hiding and nobody noticed! You’ll have to hide longer than that if you want people to start looking for you.”
“But I’ve been away for hours and hours,” said Lucy.
The others all stared at one another.
“Batty!” said Edmund, tapping his head. “Quite batty.”
“What do you mean, Lu?” asked Peter.
“What I said, answered Lucy. It was just after breakfast when I went into the wardrobe, and I’ve been away for hours and hours, and had tea, and all sorts of things have happened.”
The first couple days, I soaked in the pleasures of Chick-fil-A, air conditioning, and Target.
It didn’t take long to readjust to life here: I remembered that you can flush the toilet paper after just a few times. Driving a car after a year of public transportation wasn’t as strange as I expected. I re-learned the roads fairly quickly. Using a dishwasher and clothes dryer is once again part of my routine. One hour listening to G105, and I’ve caught up on the year’s hits.
And North Carolina is pretty much how I left it.
But…something’s different…
I spent a year in South America. I’m not fully aware of the implications of that, but I know that I’m not the same person I was 12 months ago. Even though I haven’t experienced major re-entry issues, I guess it would be hard to slip effortlessly back into life in the U.S.
As if I’ve re-entered the “Spare Oom” after slipping through the wardrobe into Narnia, it seems hard to believe that I’ve been in another “world” for the past year. I’m sure my absence was felt less here than my presence was there. And though people believe that I was in Colombia, I sympathize with Lucy’s feelings of solitude—loneliness—that result from having no one else with whom to share her experience.
Lucy ran out of the empty room into the passage and found the other three.
“It’s all right,” she repeated, “I’ve come back.”
“What on earth are you talking about, Lucy?” asked Susan.
“Why?” said Lucy in amazement. “Haven’t you all been wondering where I was?”
“So you’ve been hiding, have you?” said Peter. “Poor old Lu, hiding and nobody noticed! You’ll have to hide longer than that if you want people to start looking for you.”
“But I’ve been away for hours and hours,” said Lucy.
The others all stared at one another.
“Batty!” said Edmund, tapping his head. “Quite batty.”
“What do you mean, Lu?” asked Peter.
“What I said, answered Lucy. It was just after breakfast when I went into the wardrobe, and I’ve been away for hours and hours, and had tea, and all sorts of things have happened.”
The Final Countdown
It’s been a month since my last blog entry, and so much has happened. For lack of my own patience and yours, I won’t drone on for pages. But I’m not a quitter, so as I finish up my year abroad I’d like to get another post or two up here.
I was in Costa Rica until June 27th, and I have to say getting to be part of that trip was really a privilege. Not only was I able to visit a couple of countries I’d never been to (we went up to Nicaragua for a couple of days at the end), but I got to enjoy spending time with my professor, my fellow teaching assistants, and the Lee students. On our weekend trips, we participated in such adventures as hiking around an active volcano, bathing in hot springs, and zip-lining 600 feet above the ground.
After my return from Costa Rica, only about 3 weeks remained of my year in Colombia. So far, it has been really strange being back after several weeks in the gringo bubble of the Lee trip. To add to the strangeness, I’m not working, I’m living in a different apartment, and splitting my time between many people and activities. On June 30th, a different group of Lee students arrived to Barranquilla to spend the month of July on a cross-cultural trip here in Colombia. I’ve kept busy orienting the students and helping here and there with trip details. I tagged along with them to Cartagena for a few days and thoroughly enjoyed my last time in the Caribbean Sea for awhile. Now, I have a few more days in Barranquilla before I leave for a conference in Cali, where I’ll be until the day before I leave for the States.
In these whirlwind days, I feel pulled in a thousand directions. I am so excited to be back in the U.S. after a year away, but the thought of leaving Colombia brings tears to my eyes. Oh, to be able to be in two places at once.
I was in Costa Rica until June 27th, and I have to say getting to be part of that trip was really a privilege. Not only was I able to visit a couple of countries I’d never been to (we went up to Nicaragua for a couple of days at the end), but I got to enjoy spending time with my professor, my fellow teaching assistants, and the Lee students. On our weekend trips, we participated in such adventures as hiking around an active volcano, bathing in hot springs, and zip-lining 600 feet above the ground.
After my return from Costa Rica, only about 3 weeks remained of my year in Colombia. So far, it has been really strange being back after several weeks in the gringo bubble of the Lee trip. To add to the strangeness, I’m not working, I’m living in a different apartment, and splitting my time between many people and activities. On June 30th, a different group of Lee students arrived to Barranquilla to spend the month of July on a cross-cultural trip here in Colombia. I’ve kept busy orienting the students and helping here and there with trip details. I tagged along with them to Cartagena for a few days and thoroughly enjoyed my last time in the Caribbean Sea for awhile. Now, I have a few more days in Barranquilla before I leave for a conference in Cali, where I’ll be until the day before I leave for the States.
In these whirlwind days, I feel pulled in a thousand directions. I am so excited to be back in the U.S. after a year away, but the thought of leaving Colombia brings tears to my eyes. Oh, to be able to be in two places at once.
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