restless.

Give me an answerGive me the way outGive me the faithTo believe in these hard times-"These Hard Times,"  by Needtobreathe
Its after 2:20 in the morning and I should really be sleeping.  I'm tired and I want to be fast asleep.  But, I cant seem get that rest that I so desperately want and need.  There's a restlessness in my body, it feels as though butterflies are not only  flying around my stomach, but also surging through my veins; there's a restlessness in my mind, like my brain has a broken switch that I can't turn off.  I've heard people talk about feeling restless but until a little while ago, I just didn't get it.  I thought those people were silly and just needed to take some sleeping pills and get over their self-diagnosed insomnia.  Boy, was I wrong as ever.  I am restless.  I've been restless for the last month, since December 17, when I touched down on American soil.  My mind won't quit going.  All I can think about is what to do next.  Where do I go from here? I'm restless.
I'm going to sound like a huge sap when I say this, but as I go through the motions day to day and lay in bed trying to sleep at night, I can't stop thinking about the orphans. I think about the orphans in India and how badly I want to be back, holding Angel in my arms, hearing her laugh.  I think about the orphans in the Philippines and what I would give to run around with my not-so-little-anymore Joshua, who stole my heart.  I can't let the feelings go and my heart hurts for the children.  I've been told to never lose hope, but for some of the orphans, its hard to see any hope at all.  There's a harsh reality that some will not be adopted.  Some will be adopted by parents with very wrong motives.  At the same time, so many are being adopted by loving families and I am thankful beyond measure for that.  But some won't be adopted. Ever.   Some will never be loved in the way that a child should be loved.  Its those kids for whom my heart is constantly heavy.  Its those kids that I can't stop thinking about.  

"Therefore we do not lose heart.  Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.  For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.  So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen.  For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal." -2 Corinthians 4:16-18

It would be a complete and total understatement to say that the transition back to America and back to school has been hard.  It has been so incredibly difficult that there have been countless times that I have felt like I can't do it anymore - America, school, all of it.  I've struggled with a slew of emotions, most of the time feeling overwhelmed which leads to me isolating myself, followed by anger because I know I shouldn't be isolating myself.  But, its hard.  Its really, really difficult.  I think its safe to say that the transition back to American life has been tougher than the transition to India ever was.  As a result, I have been moping and not trying very hard at anything.  Yes, I know...not a good plan to make things turn around.

Today, I was sitting in my room, staring at the tapestry from India that hangs on my wall.  I was thinking about the people I miss, the challenges I miss, and the joy that I felt while I was there.  And in the background, my iPod had shuffled to "In Your Love" by Phil Wickham.  He sings, "I have looked you in the eyes; I have seen the tears you've cried; I have heard you question why you are here...there's a reason, there's a plan; there's a God who understands; you've got your life inside His hands; have no fear, 'cause he says, 'In all your hurt and all your pain; I'll never leave, I won't forsake; you're my child and I'm your God; come and rest in my love."  And, I was reminded that there's a plan.  If I'm supposed to go back to India, the doors will open.  But for now, I'm supposed to be right here, which means that I'm supposed to be a light wherever I am. Shining, I think, is sometimes a much more difficult task where there is comfort and where people know you and have always known you.

But, I have been reading The Hole in our Gospel by Richard Stearns and it has made me think about life and what my future holds as well as how I should be living each and every day.  It has made me think of poverty alleviation and other forms of social injustice and what I can do to help.  It reminds me of the society that I used to see and be immersed in.  In the spirit of Martin Luther King Jr. day, I re-read (we had to read it in high school) his "Letter from Birmingham Jail," and new parts stuck out to me.  I felt like I had been hit by a brick reading it because I could see it from a new perspective.  King wrote, "Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere."  Wow.  He got it.  On one hand, its incredibly disheartening because of the lack of social justice across the globe.  But, King continues to say, "Oppressed people cannot remain oppressed forever.  The urge for freedom will eventually come."  That, if nothing else, is a source of hope amidst all of the world's brokenness.  Someday, there will be freedom.  Someday, there will be justice.  For now, we each need to do our parts right where we are to aid in that process.  That is our job.  That is what we were created to do.

"Action springs not from thought, but from a readiness for responsibility." -Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Isaiah 61.

raindrops.

Each quarter is something brand new, a fresh start.  Today was the first day of winter quarter.  After this one, I'll only have one more winter quarter left to go and then its time for the real world, whatever that means.

Today was rough.  It felt like a Monday, even though its Wednesday.  I had all three of my classes today, spanning from 9:30-3.  Buying textbooks for just those three classes cost over $450; they weren't even new.  The classes were difficult, but more difficult than the work was dealing with the fact that I just don't feel like I belong.  I feel like I'm walking around campus like a ghost, and when I have a chance to stop and think about things, I feel restless.  I want to get back to India, where things felt so right.  

Its comforting to think about the fact that being there was one of the biggest challenges of my life, and yet, at the same time, one of the biggest blessings.  Gandhiji once said, "Everything you do in life will be insignificant, but its very important that you do it."  While I was there, India felt like an insignificant blip on the radar, something that I would do to broaden my worldview, but it was important.  It changed me.  

I now recognize the individualistic nature of most Americans, the materialism that plagues our country, and the hurry that we all seem to be in to make it through life.  I am a victim of all of the above and with all of my heart I hope I can change that.  Today, I miss India and I miss my ISP friends and I miss my family.  

I have no doubt in my mind that things will get better.  We got the warnings about reverse culture shock and I just didn't anticipate mine being a real issue that I'd have to deal with.  That being said, I suppose its a beautiful thing, of sorts, that I am a changed person upon my return, so changed that I can't comfortably go back to who I was.  I guess thats progress, right?

1 Cor. 16:13

whirlwind

I just found this little tidbit.  I wrote it shortly after leaving India.

"Its absolutely crazy and almost incomprehensible that one week ago, I was just leaving India.  It seems like its been so long since I was in class at Bishop Appassamy College.  As much as I doubted that I’d ever say such a thing, I miss it.  It has been such a blessing to be back with family, especially because they ensure me that its okay to have a “well, in India..” rebuttal to nearly everything. But, being back, there are things that keep hitting me like bricks that I never thought would.  One of my fellow ISPers said something along the lines of, “Although India didn’t concretely change who I am, I wouldn’t feel like myself without it.” Amen to that, sister.

As the mehindi on my arms fades, I pray that my memories do not.  

There are so many things from the two weeks of travel that I can’t seem to push from my mind.  First of all, Calcutta.  Even though we were only there for 4 days, it took a piece of my heart.  I’m a firm believer in seeing the “tough stuff.”  I think that there is great value in seeing things that break your heart and force tears to be shed because those are the things that stir such discomfort within the soul. That terrible discomfort, I believe, leads to action.  Our leader, Kirk, possesses a great amount of wisdom.  Two things that he’s said have struck me.  First:  “You need to find a way to live in the tension between comfort and a deep upset for justice.  When you live in that tension, you are able to make an impact.”  Second: “Everything is preparation for something.”  I don’t know what Calcutta is preparing me for, but I know that something will come as a result, because I feel that tension.  If I could, I would pack up my family and friends, throw them in some suitcases and take them all to Calcutta and I would find something to do there, some way to love those who need it so badly.  But, unfortunately, those doors aren’t open and I don’t think everyone I would want to come with me would want to come.  But, Calcutta broke my heart in a way that I don’t know how to mend.  I will never forget the small, small things that I witnessed in such a short time there.  If you’ve ever watched Slumdog Millionaire, you may recall that in the film, people are many times maimed by those higher up in society in order to become beggars and are then forced to give the money they earn begging to their “bosses.”  I never realized that beyond being an incredibly sad plot to a movie, that actually is a sick reality in India.  People who are severely disfigured and begging on the streets many times weren’t born that way, but were made that way by what I would consider to be the equivalent of a pimp, but in a different context.  I saw a man whom I will never forget.  He had no arms and he had no legs.  All he could do was lie hopelessly on the sidewalk and wait for someone to act as a good Samaritan.  He literally couldn’t do anything on his own.  I can’t imagine there being a human being so obsessed with money or sick in the mind that they could do such a thing to another person as to mutilate them and make them into a completely helpless creature.  It absolutely blows me away. 

It makes me feel ignorant to say this, but Calcutta put a face to the issues.  I knew these kind of dreadful things existed but until I went to Calcutta, I had never seen such poverty, such hurt, such sadness and yet such joy even in the pain.  In Shane Claiborne’s book, The Irresistible Revolution, he writes about how when he was in Calcutta, he could see Jesus through the street people, through those who had nothing and to me, it is so true.  I get it now.  We can see so much of Jesus in those who may not even know him.  Life is a beautiful thing and so full of Christ’s love for us if we only stop and take a minute to soak in that beauty."