they say that home is where the heart is...

Its a strange time of year when I prepare to pack up my possessions and leave home to go...to my other home?  I remember franticly putting what seemed to be my whole life into boxes before my freshman year of college prior to moving away from the place I was born and raised, the place where my family and friends were, the place I loved, and the place I called home.  As my parents and I drove away that day, I remember feeling numb - not happy, not sad, not excited, not scared (or maybe I was just too happy, sad, excited and scared that I couldn't feel any of them) - and my dad told me that in a few months, Bozeman wouldn't feel like home anymore and that in a few years, Seattle would feel like home.  It took less time than I anticipated for this to become true.  I was thrilled and overjoyed to be home for Thanksgiving and for Christmas, but nothing was the same.  It was wonderful to catch up with high school friends, but all the while, I missed my college friends.  Throughout the years, the pattern has continued.  Each time I return to Bozeman, a little piece of me is missing that can only be found in Seattle.  

The cities of Bozeman and Seattle are near and dear to my heart and they both hold a very special place.  Yes, its the landscape; its those quiet and peaceful mountains and rivers and spaces that Bozeman has to offer, and its the busy and bustling sounds of downtown Seattle and the aroma of salt water and the crisp west coast air.  But, its also the people; its my parents and brothers and the friends I grew up with (who feel more like sisters), its the friends I've met who come from places as different from my hometown as they come.  It seems almost as though the cliche saying, "home is where the heart is," is true.  In that saying is where I get lost in the mucky waters of confusion and perplexity.  My heart is in so many places.  It is, of course, with my family in MT, my friends in WA, and other friends and relatives located all over the country.  But, my heart is in other places around the world too.  It is in the Philippines with the beautiful orphans who have blessed and touched my life more than they will ever know.  It is in Vietnam with the friends I made amidst the language barrier, who taught me that laughing and loving need no spoken or written language, as they speak for themselves.  It is in India with the neglected and orphaned children, the friends, teachers, mentors and role models that have impacted who I am as a person in more ways than one.

So, I guess, as I sit here in my living room at home, trying to determine where home actually is, I have yet to find an answer.  Maybe home can be wherever I want it to be, where I can see the landscapes that make my heart smile, where I can feel the warm embrace of those whom I love, where my nostrils are filled with those familiar aromas that bring happiness, where I recognize the noises around me, and where I can fill my stomach with foods that bring flooding back memories.  Maybe home will be continually changing throughout my life.  Maybe home, to me, will always be in more places than one.  Or, maybe, I can't fully grasp "home," because someday, I truly will be home, in a home that is perfect, a home with a family that is forever and a Father who holds the world in His hands.  So maybe home isn't something to be fully understood until that day, when I finally get there.  And when I do, I believe, without a doubt, that I will truly be home, and there will be no doubt in my mind that I have found a place that is home.

[ r a w ]

I don't know about you, but the world and all of its brokenness have a way of getting me down.  Innocent people being massacred in a movie theater (a movie that I was watching at the time it all happened).  Young girls being sold into prostitution because they are in the wrong place at the wrong time.  The ever growing gap between the rich and the poor.  Dozens dead from a bad rainstorm in Asia.  The real issues, the things that matter seem to be constantly slid under the carpet and ignored; after all, it is more fun and much easier to hear about the upcoming olympic athletes and all of the great things that the presidential candidates have to offer.  But it seems that whenever I'm not thinking about the world, I'm focused on my own loneliness, which shrivels in comparison to those around the world who may be truly alone.  But, I blame it on the devil.  I've been casually flipping through and re-reading parts of C.S. Lewis's The Screwtape Letters and it is terrifying just how Screwtape tries to steal humanity away from Christ and His goodness.  The scary thing is that the devil is like that and I've seen his handiwork all over the world; this summer, it seems like making me feel completely alone is the task.  Scarily, it usually works.

For some reason, though (I suppose I don't really believe in coincidences, making it more of a God thing than anything else), today I thought it would be a good idea to flip through old sermon notes; there was no reason for it, I just wanted to.  As I was turning the pages of my journal, something that I had written down jumped out at me and I was reminded of one of Mark Driscoll's sermons that I had heard a while back in Seattle.  He said, in reference to fear and suffering, "They can take everything from you, but they cannot take your Jesus."  Things flew back into perspective. The world is going to continue to be broken - I can spend my life working for the Kingdom and making it a little bit of a better place, but things are going to continue to be terribly messed up until the beautiful day when Christ returns.  The devil can strip everything from me - my friends, my momentary happiness, all of it.  But you know what satan?  You can't take my Jesus.  And after all, He's really all that matters.  He is joy and peace and love and all that is good in life.  My Jesus can get me through, and no one can take my Heavenly Father from me.  How cool is that? 

being present.

Sometimes, my mind just swims.  Thoughts, ideas and feelings move about like particles caught up in a whirlwind.  My head and my heart find it so easy to be stuck in the past, stuck in what was.  Usually, my thoughts are caught up in India, the Philippines, and Vietnam. Reminiscing leaves me feeling as though I can smell the incense being burned for the gods throughout the country of India, masking the gut-wrenching smell of cities without sewer systems.  Its as if I can hear the orphaned children in the Philippines singing, "Be brave little one, someone is waiting for you..." I can almost taste the at-times overwhelming mint leaves in Vietnamese sandwiches.  Its as if I can see the bright colors all around me, feel the touch of those who left their mark forever on my heart.   I can't usually go a day without remembering the people and places that have changed my life, my outlook, my actions, and perspectives forever.  The people I have met, as well as those I have only seen from afar have impacted me and who I am and for that reason, its hard for me to not fixate on the past, spend hours looking through pictures, reading my journals and wishing more than anything I was back there, wherever "there" may be at any given point in time.  Because for some reason, those places felt like home.  Those places were hard, sad, and stretching.  But those places brought clarity.

This week, I've been thinking about how potentially detrimental such thought processes may be.  Philippians 3:13 says, "But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what lies ahead."  I've heard sermons and talks about this verse on New Years in regards to forgetting past sins, hardships, and wrongdoings.  To me, suddenly, there is new clarity.  I don't think that Paul meant so simply that on New Years, we should read Philippians 3:13 and set a new resolution - maybe that is part of it - but I think its much bigger than that.  Tom Hopkins said, "Look at your past.  Your past has determined where you are at this moment.  What you do today will determine where you are tomorrow.  Are you moving forward or standing still?"  Gandhi said, "The future depends on what we do in the present."  Living in the past, whether the good memories or the bad, are keeping me from making the future a better place.  The past - The Philippines, India, and Vietnam - has shaped me, but the importance is not living in those experiences, but rather integrating what I learned there into my future actions.

So right now, I'm trying to be present.  I'm trying to live in the here & now.  I'm trying to make every single day count, because each and every day is precious.  The past doesn't have to stay in the past because it can shape today and tomorrow, but the past cannot be the only thing defining today.

where is the joy?

It may be an understatement to say that I don't do very well with transitions.  It seems like during transition points, I hit a sort of funk.  The return from India funk has been the worst ever, but that is not to say there haven't been others.  This has been my first week at home for the summer and it has hit really hard.  Since its junior year summer, its the last real college summer.  While I feel like I should be soaking it up and making the most of it with my friends, the truth is that I've barely done anything.  At the end of high school, I thought that even though my friend group scattered, we would always be close - we were too good of friends to let anything tear us apart.  And while we are all still friends, its not the same, not even close.  It has become harder and harder for me to let that go.  Almost everyday I'm home I can't shake a sort of sadness and a wish that I could just go back to that summer after senior year, where things were so much easier and more simple.  The reality is, though, that it will never be like that again. As my mind clouds with memories that take over my thoughts, leaving me with nothing but fog and haze, I reach that dark place where I forget to see the sunlight and flowers, and forget to hear the birds chirping.

Tonight, as I was driving home from a friend's house, I was thinking about happiness and sadness and everything that falls in between. I thought to myself, "How can I just forget to be happy? How does something like that even happen? I'm driving home from one of my best friends since elementary school but wishing things were like they were before. How does that make any sense?"  The reality of the fact is that time isn't going to stop.  Its not going to stand still, and as much as I hate to admit it, it probably won't even slow down anytime soon.  So why have I been spending so much time wishing I was in the past?  Paul writes in Philippians 3:13, "But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead." I need to live in the here and now, not the past.  Living in the past isn't going to help anyone and it sure isn't going to help me.  I'm blessed to still even be friends with those from high school, middle school, elementary, and even before the school days.  I have college friends.  There is no reason to be stuck in a rut.

Joseph Campbell said, "Find a place where there's joy and the joy will burn out the pain."  Joy is here and now.  I was thinking about happiness and sadness and and all of the other emotions wrapped up inside of the two and I stumbled across joy.  This past quarter, in one of my classes, we were talking about suffering and the goodness of God, but because it was a philosophy class, we didn't really talk about what we were supposed to at all.  I remember one classmate saying something about finding happiness in the Lord, and another raising a hand saying that there is an important line to be drawn between happiness and joy.  The second classmate argued that joy is found in the Lord, rather than happiness.  As if straight out of a movie, class ended before either could argue further.  I remember going back to my apartment strangely dazed by the distinction that I had never considered before - is there a difference between joy and happiness?  I have slowly come to the conclusion that happiness is short and fleeting, it comes and goes based on circumstances that change from year to year, day to day, hour to hour, and even minute to minute.  Joy, I believe, is different.  Joy, I think is something that once you have it, is there to stay.  Joy, I would agree with my classmate, is found only in the Lord.  It must be pretty important to have since its even one of the fruits of the Spirit, given to all believers.  C.S. Lewis said, "Joy is the serious business of heaven," and David's Psalms are filled with joy and thanksgiving.

My aunt, and one of my biggest role models, passed away almost 3 years ago.  When I think about joy and happiness, I think of her.  She was the hardest fighter and the most trusting person I have ever met. Battling cancer for year after year after year would run most people into the ground, I would assume.  She was tired and as the fight got harder and harder for her, anyone could tell that her circumstances were far from happy.  But, even though at times she was far from happy and at times she was sad and at times she was just plain exhausted, she never lost her joy (at least not that I could tell).  Even when she was in the hospital for days and weeks, she could smile, even if it was faint.  Throughout her long and tiresome fight, she would tell stories and laugh and joke.  She had joy.  I can learn that from her.

Even when the times are hard, even when I feel sad, I need to remember to still be joyful.  Joy is a gift that shouldn't be accepted lightly.  Joy is from the King.  Joy sets us apart.  No matter how sad or stuck I may feel, my joy can be renewed and constantly is being renewed.  That is something to be thankful for, something to be happy for.  


On my drive home, I thought of a happy list, things that I'm thankful for and things that make me smile.
Today's happy list: sleeping in a bed (something many people don't have the luxury of), pita pit for lunch with the brother (and the best surprise - seeing our classy uncle strolling by), helping Dad at his office and laughing with Mom before she left, a haircut from a dear family friend, endless laughing with  one of the best friends a girl could ask for, a sky full of stars, (even though it wasn't today) theological discussions with the brother until the early morning and the list goes on...

Today, I was reminded of how blessed I am.  Its not worth bringing myself to a point mentally where I wish things were different.  Each day is special, and each day is something to be thankful for.  For so many reasons, I can have joy in my heart.  Today, I am thankful.

[most precious]

Four years ago, I met a little boy named Joshua.  It was when little Joshua was in my arms that God showed me how incredibly precious His children are.  It was in that moment that I knew how incredibly fragile orphaned children are and how much they need a family and love.  It was in that moment that I finally understood Jesus' command to love "the least" in society.  

Not many days go by where I don't think about that boy - Joshua.  It took almost a year for the tears to go away when I thought about him.  Because Joshua isn't only an orphaned child, he also has learning disabilities and cognitive delay.  In all honesty, his future looks bleak.  Every time I think about Joshua, my heart breaks a little bit more.  I miss him so much and its a difficult place to be when all you can do is pray that one day he will have a family that loves him.  And until that day comes, I will be praying that my little Joshua will keep laughing and smiling and that he will keep his innocence without realizing what a cruel place the world can be.  Most of all, I hope and pray with all my heart that little Joshua will never go a day without feeling loved.  

Always on the mind.

fear of the unkown

Last week in my physiological psychology and neuro-biology class, we learned that stress evokes a fear response in the brain.  Everyone in class seemed to think that it was just one of those "duh" moments, but I was shocked.  Now, biology isn't my thing so I was already one step behind the rest of the class, but still.  Your body treats stress the same way it treats fear; your brain sends out the same response to your body when you are stressed out as when you are terrified.  Its no wonder being stressed out takes a toll on you.

It seems like this quarter, and this year, in fact, has been packed with so much stress.  Stress of hard classes and hard situations.  This week, however, I realized something.  The worst has been the looming stress, the stress that never goes away, the stress that comes from the unknown; and what I have figured out is that the stress really is fear of the unknown.  If I'm being honest with myself, I'm constantly stressed about things, but the things I'm stressed about are really things that I'm actually scared of.  I guess that is a kind of "duh" - no wonder the body takes it as fear, it is fear.  Usually, its the little things that get to me, the things that my mom constantly has to remind me to remember that small things don't define me.  When I freak out about a test, she'll remind me, "Its just a test."  And the thing is, the reason I freak out about the tests and the papers and the assignments are for the grades.  Because, if I don't get good grades, I don't have a good GPA, and if I don't have a good GPA, I don't get into a good graduate program, and if I don't get into a good graduate program, I don't get a good job, and if I don't get a good job, then what?  What if?

Last week, I dropped a class for the first time in my whole life.  It was a class that I was taking because I had to.  But, it was too much.  I tend to spread myself way too thin sometimes and tackle way too many classes.  My parents reminded me that if I'm not having any fun because I'm always working on school and worried about the next test, its just not worth it.  So, for the first time, I dropped the class, simply because I didn't want to take it...because I wanted to have fun.  And it felt good.  When I talked to my teacher about not being able to handle the class at this point in time, she said, "I'm very impressed that you were able to realize that the class is too much for you right now, that is something that most adults don't even know how to do."  In that moment, I wasn't worrying about what people thought of me, I wasn't worrying about future plans, but I was living for that day.  Each day I'm realizing more and more that life is short.  You never know what is going to happen next, so why worry about the future instead of just worrying about the present?  I guess I'm a little slow on the uptake because I think this was probably a sunday school lesson waaaay back in the day on Matthew 6:34 accompanied by a nice Steve Green jingle, but seriously.  There's no reason to live in fear of the unknown; life is too short and time on earth is fleeting.  There's a plan for the future and in His time, the plan will be clear.  

stating the obvious

If nothing else in my research class last quarter, I learned that the data doesn't always speak for itself.  You can be looking at the same data day-in and day-out until all of the sudden a new pattern or outlier or something of great importance which can just pop out at you.  Randomly, a lightbulb really does seem to come on.  My professor used to tell us that if we couldn't find anything significant we should just walk away for a while, get some fresh perspective.  All of this that a very long preface into a lightbulb that went off in my head yesterday.  I have now been alive and kicking for 20 Easters and countless readings of the betrayal and crucifixion of Jesus.  But this year, a new lightbulb went on and I apparently acquired a fresh perspective since the last time reading the Easter and pre-Easter passages.

It is striking and incredible that Jesus was perfect, lived a sinless life, fed people, healed people, did miracles, and people hated Him for it.  They hated that perfect man enough to kill him in the most excruciatingly painful and terribly humiliating way possible.  Even amidst all of the terrible circumstances, Jesus continued to act in a way that only the Son of God would be able.  In Luke 23:34, it is written, "Jesus said, 'Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.'"  Jesus was being led away, like a lamb being led to slaughter and yet, instead of showing anger, disappointment, or even fear, he was thinking of others.  He was not thinking about the brutal torture that he knew was about to be inflicted on his earthly body, but rather he was thinking about those who were sinning against him - not with anger, but with a hope that they would one day come to know The Father and know forgiveness.  Even more striking, however, is that Jesus was asking for the forgiveness of those people who were oppressing Him.  He prayed for his oppressors, with hope, in his dying days.

I see the world as a terribly broken place, but within all of the brokenness, I see such great beauty.  I see beauty in the people of the world, especially the poor and the oppressed.  My heart is with them.  It is so incredibly easy to despise those doing the wrong and to despise those who are oppressing the weak.  Its easy to forget that the oppressors, those who can be seen as "the worst of the worst" in society, are God's children too.  I am no better than they are - we are all sinful, fallen beings who so desperately need God's love and forgiveness.  If we truly are to paint the world a picture of Jesus, hating the oppressors is far from the right thing to do.  Hatred for those who hurt others is easier than loving them, but Jesus, in his dying days, loved them and pleaded for their forgiveness and salvation.  This Easter weekend, I am reminded that we are to love as Christ loves (Eph 5:2, Romans 5:8), even when its hard and even when the whole world tells us to hate.  Jesus, in his last moments, had hope for those who did not know The Father, and I believe that it is our duty to carry out that hope and do everything that we can to love others, even when they hurt us, for they are God's beloved children, just as we are.

This Easter, I am reminded to have hope.  Jesus died a terrible death and just when it seemed like all hope was lost, He rose from the dead.  He conquered sin.  He forgives me for my sin, just like He will forgive anyone who will ask for it.  This Easter, my prayers are for society's oppressors, that they would see that they have a father who loves them more than they can imagine and that forgiveness and love are theirs for the taking.  This Easter, I am reminded to love.