Growing Daisies

“There is no such thing as a private life, or a place to hide in this world, for a man or woman who is intimately aware of and shares in the sufferings of Jesus Christ. God divides the private life of His saints and makes it a highway for the world on one hand and for Himself on the other. We are not sanctified for ourselves. We are called into intimacy with the gospel, and things happen that appear to have nothing to do with us. But God is getting us into fellowship with Himself….”
~O. Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest (Nov 1)

The second line of this quote has come at such a poignant time in my life, and it’s truth so evident. A while back I use to think that I did have time to myself. This normally would, and still does, look like me going to a coffee shop with my devotional, bible, and journal to go sit and process for a few hours. I finanly realized that those were, and are, my true quiet times. Those times that I think I carve away for myself in the silence of a drive home from school, sitting at a coffee shop or an afternoon at home the Lord is still present and speaking. It was such a beautiful, wonderful, simply realization too.
As God is teaching me about dying to myself, about “putting to death” my own ideas for “my” life He has been driving home this concept of the highway of life that Chambers speaks of. Chambers use of this metaphor “highway” couldn’t have been a better choice. God has been bringing to mind that at work, at home, and at school my life lays barenaked before all the world to see. He has provided numberous opportunities for those around me to see how much of an orphan I still think I am. I’m frustrated with my job, I’m ready to graduate, I’m anxious about the future, and I want so many things for my life. All my frustrations, my disappointments, my rights to myself, my lack of belief, my doubts, my lack of conviction lays before all to see and to judge. But God does not look to them He looks to me. He is calling me to draw closer to Him. He is in control, and He is using all me not just parts of me to bring Himself glory. And in its those vulnerable, embarrassing, raw moments where I act like an orphan that God calls to this adopted daughter “Come…”.

The class times, and weeks are flying away like autum leaves. With each passing week it’s one closer to graduating college. It’s the most surreal, bittersweet season of my life so far. I can’t believe after four years of commuting, working part-time, going to school full-time, moving twice a year (on average), changing majors, changing theology, changing visions, growing up, maturing, sacrificing…I’ll have a B.A. to show for it all. I never wanted to go back to school, because I was ignorant and stubborn. But now I have a growing respect for myself and for others who have degrees. Because of what this process really means.
“So what’s after graduation?”. It’s that question everyone asks, but I always dread. Its like asking the young married couple when they are going to have kids or the old couple when they are going to retire or the high school graduate when they are going back to school. No one asks about who you are or what you have become or want to become. It’s all about doing.
I love telling people that I plan on doing nothing after I graduate, because they either try to help me plan out my life or they change the subject. Its always telling of what they think a college degree will do for person. Usually that concerned, furrow-browed look shows up when I say “nothing” and I realize that they think there is some career with a salary just waiting for me. Good thing I know better.
So what will I do. There are so many things I would love to do and that Ive talked about doing. Move to Portland and live a urban, young adult life. Pursue worship as a ministry calling by going to YWAM. Seminary. (Like I actually looked at Princeton Seminary the other day. I dont know why. They’ll never accept me and I dont want to go to seminary.) Travel to Europe. Travel to see my friends. Travel anywhere. Maybe go on a date. Like a real date. With a guy Ive never met. Who pays for dinner and has intentions. Pay off bills and save up for the next step in life. Loose 90 lbs. Ok, Ill take 80lbs. Go see a counselor. Do all the things Ive put off doing the last four years of my life. The world is my oyster. And I have the rest of my life to figure it out. Because I really dont want to do anything right away.
Because here’s the deal. Here is something people dont tell you about going to college. They dont tell you that you may leave college fragmented. They dont tell how to synthesize all those smaller parts of you that have been challenged, inspired, changed, matured, educated. Maybe they did and I just missed that. Maybe its assumed that because you declare a major that you are really fragmented at all. Maybe thats the result of a Liberal Arts education. Maybe Im just a different kind of student.
So I actually do know what I will be doing. I will be waiting. I will be waiting for the dust of academic life to settle, for the reality of post-collegiate life to set in and to see what emerges from my fragmented self. Because I dont think I can move forward in any long-term direction yet. I know who I am and I dont. I know myself better than Ive ever known myself and yet I dont know myself at all. I need to see what has stuck, what I need to drop, what I need to keep and what I need to pursue. My fear is that it will all cave in on me and Ill become depressed. Haha. But my great hope is that after awhile something will emerge…something greater than I could ever image….and Ill be suprisingly blown away by what I find. And out of that….will be the begin of my best life now.

I’ve been reading a book called Images of Pastoral Care: Classic Readings.  It’s a compilation of essays written by ministers, and other professionals on the ministry of mental health.  I have found it altogether very interesting, and wanted to post a few snippets of an essay written by one of the more well-known contributors, the late Henri Nouwen:

Therefore I would like to voice loudly and clearly what might seem unpopular and maybe even disturbing: The Christian way of life does not take away our loneliness; it protects and cherishes it as a precious gift.  Sometimes it seems as if we do everything possible to avoid the painful confrontation with our basic human loneliness, and allow ourselves to be trapped by false gods promising immediate satisfaction and quick relief.  But perhaps the painful awareness of loneliness is an invitation to transcend our limitations and look beyond the boundaries of our existence.  The awareness of loneliness might be a gift we must protect and guard, because our loneliness reveals to us an inner emptiness that can be destructive when misunderstood, but filled with promise for him who can tolerate its sweet pain.  When we are impatient, when we want to give up our loneliness and try to overcome the separation and incompleteness we feel, too soon, we easily relate to our human world with devastating expectations.  We ignore what we already know with a deep-seated, intuitive knowledge-that no love or friendship, no intimate embrace or tender kiss, no community, commune or collective, no man or woman, will ever be able to satisfy our desire to be released from our lonely condition.  This truth is so disconcerting and painful that we are more  prone to play games with our fantasies than to face the truth of our existence.  Thus we keep hoping that one day we will find the man who really understands our experiences, the woman who will bring peace to our restless life, the job where we can fulfill our potentials, the book which will explain everything, and the place where we can feel at home.  Such false hope leads us to make exhausting demands and prepares us for bitterness and dangerous hostility when we start discovering that nobody, and nothing, can live up to our absolute expectations (p.78).

In no way does Nouwen advocate against the need for relationships, but what he does is point out how to enter them as a person of wholeness.  When we have a deep understanding of ourselves, and our true nature then we can meet others deeply and guide them to deeper understandings of themselves.  He talks about how we create a “space” in ourselves, out of humilty and not out of self-pity, that invites others to be themselves around us.  I think, on some level, he is also saying that through this process we are freed up to get out of the way to minister to others.  It isn’t about self-reliance, but rather it is about fully understanding loneliness as a condition common to all men and to use this understanding to connect with and help other people. 

Nouwen’s words ring true in the silence of waiting rooms, at the table for two in the restaraunt, in homes all across the world.  As a person who represents hundres of thousands of singles I can say that I find some comfort in Nouwen’s words.  I’ve been in loneliner places in my life than what I found myself at the present.  I can see the loneliness in the eyes of dear friends, single and married, widowed and divorced, professionals and ministers.  It’s the “common enemy” of humanity, and how people deny it is evident by their means of suppressing it’s reality.

But our hope is in Christ, who, as the writer of Hebrews says,

14Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has gone through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess. 15For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet was without sin. 16Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need. (4:14-16)

Christ experienced a loneliness that we will never understand, but in turn He does understand ours.  May we meet each other in our time of need with humility and compassion, not with all the answers, but with an understanding.

It’s Tuesday night, and Im walking down the hall of the third floor of Henderson. Ive just left my Creative Writing class, and the stale, musty smell of the building hangs in the air. As I head for the double doors at the end of the hall I can hear the mummur of another class still in progress. I linger for a moment against the hall to catch the sound of a video the class is viewing. Some preacher is talking about God’s love and the forgiveness found in Christ. I head through the doors, walking down the three flights of stairs that will talk me to the level floor. When I walk outside I am suddenly engulfed by the cool, brisk fall air. It’s night, and I can vaguely make out some of the stary sky that has escaped the light population given off by scattered lamps on campus. Down the hill to my left is the three story Psychology building all brick and stoic. In front of me several yards off is the square, brick, ironically sterile art building. Off in the distance I can hear a song being sung by strong, young voice of a guy who wants to be famous one day. His acoustic guitar echos out of the small gym, and escapes into the night air. This is a paused moment. The crispy air rushes into my lungs as I breath in deep, my ears strain to drink in the raspy melodies, my eyes hungrily search the stary sky, and my feet slowly march down the hill. It is moments like this I have learned to stop and experience them for all they are worth. Its the space and time between point A and point B. Its the time that no one, not even myself, demands anything. I shove the “shoulds” out of my mind and take the moment in. Its the scrap of space left over after a schedule has been cut out. Its in these times where I escape and find refugee. Sometimes this time looks like my long drive home from school with the windows down, the radio off, and my eyes fixated on the horizon. Sometimes this time looks like Thursday afternoon, when my school week has ended but its not quit the weekend yet. I daydream, and wonder around in my mind about my life and what it is and what it will be and what I am learning in it all. That space in between the points, that time in between time is where I recharge. Medition…slowing down…smelling the roses…whatever some one wants to call it…I crave it. And I wasnt even looking for it. It found me.

So I am at work Friday afternoon and these three guys come in. When they put down their belongs on one of the tables In notice a notebook, and two bibles. On thinline black bible, and another big, bulky study bible. They come up to the counter to order, and after some banter about one of them being a partner at Starbucks I find out that they are all on staff at a baptist church in Lexington, KY. The conversation takes off from there. We talk about how I’m pretty much Reformed but I go to a “liberal” SBC college. They talk about how they consider themselves a “little b” baptist church since they are becoming more reformed, but have a big focus on community, discipleship and outreach. We talked about how Jesus and God are not concepts, and how UK needs some reformed people to reach the campus. It was such a refreshing conversation. I left with two business cards and promised to visit their church if I was ever in the area. That was the second time in the last week that a random conversation has come up with customers at work who were solid Christians. It was exciting to talk to other believers about ministry and life after college and new things. In case I havent mentioned it I am so ready to graduate. Im like a salvating congregant at a church potluck.
On a side note Ive been holed up in drive-thru at work for far so long that I forgot about the beauty of cafe service. I like working drive-thru on a morning shift, because all the regulars come through. There is a great sense of pleasure to make a personal connection with some one, because you know excatly what they are going to order. But these last few days Ive enjoyed the people walking through the front door, even if they do get pissy with me because we dont have free Wi-Fi. Yes, there is a Starbucks in existence that does not have Wi-Fi. That is the Starbuck’s trivia for the day.
In related news…we have internet and cable at our house. “Praise God from whom all blessings flow…” The house is almost in order. My room is more functional, and for the first time in years all my books are out in broad daylight. They are like my little children, all lined up against the wall for me to look gazingly at. Yeah, no bookshelf yet. Im still the lazy one in this roommate relationship, but I did clean the apartment on Friday. Mmmmm…..Pine-Sol.

I read the Chronicles of Narnia for the first when I was 27, which was last year.  One of my favorite books in the Chronicles would be Voyage of the Dawn Treader.  Its this fascinating tale about a trip the main characters take to all these islands, and learn about the kings of old.  There is a cousin named Eustace whose allowed to go on the trip despite the fact that he is an annoyance to all around him.  While on this trip Eustace receives his own, personal encounter with the Lion Aslan.  Eustace, at one point, goes to sleep as a boy and wakes up as a dragon.  He’s this huge, scaly reptile, and none of the kids know what to do.  Eustace is feeling helpless, faithless and fearful.  His only hope is Aslan, because as much as Eustace scratches the scales they don’t come close to shedding off.  Aslan comes along, and uses His lion-claws to cut off the dragon skin.  He throws Eustace into this pool of water, and Eustace is made whole again.  

It’s rather odd to say that I connected with a boy who was turned into a dragon in a children’s book, but I did.  Around the same time I was reading the Chronicles I was experiencing some things being “cut off” and being ripped out of my life.  I didn’t suffer relational losses, or deaths of friends or family.  I did experience a dying to self, and a sense of salvation lost.  Of course I don’t believe, theologically, that you can loose your salvation, but I did loose it in a sense.  God was ripping away all the things I had placed my salvation in:  my theology, opinions, church background, experience, ideas, everything but Christ.  I had surrounded myself, clothed myself, and identified myself more with my career as a Christian (my dragon, if you will) than I did with Christ Himself.  So when those things were being taken away I experienced a sense of salvation lost, but it wasn’t true salvation.  The Gospel is the story of redemption, and the restoration of God’s people to Himself.  Christ is our only hope, and salvation. 

New Skin

By R. D. Helmick

Vr1.

Tears in his eyes

Underneath the moonlight (light)

Tried to shed for the third time

It didnt reach the inside (inside)

Ch.1

The thoughts in his heart had

Transformed his outside

Eustace has become a dragon

A dragon by the sea

Vr.2

Many I have too shed

Will this process ever end (end)

Tears in my eyes

Underneath the moonlight (light)

Ch.2

These thoughts in my heart have

Taken over the inside

I have become like Eustace

A dragon by the sea

Vr.3

Aslan the Lion said,

“I can make you a boy again (again)

You will have to let me

Undress you with my claws (claws)”

Ch.3

The cut went so deep he thought

“It went straight to my heart”

Dark skin was on the ground

And Eustace the boy was found

Ch. 4

I too have seen this Aslan

This lion and His claws

He’s cut away everything

So I can only cling to the cross

He’s cut away everything

So I can only cling to the cross

Tears in our eyes

Underneath the moonlight (light)

Coffee shops are quiet the phenomenon.  They have essentially become the non-alcoholic watering hole of social activity.  It use to be a local bar like “Cheers” where everyone knew your drink and name.  You met up with friends, and you hung out for hours.  Coffee shops, in particularly Starbucks, has found a similar niche during the day.    Baristas are bartenders, locals become regulars, and a subculture is born. 
At the two Starbucks that Ive worked at there is the same “Cheers” community.  You have your morning crew on their way to work or school, the midday peeps getting that post lunch fix, and your night time crowd hanging with friends.  After working a mere nine months I am completely immersed in this ecclectic community.  Baristas and regulars from all different backgrounds, ages, cultures, and genders form a sort of pseudo-family. 
   I have found myself graciously accepted and apart of this family.  Connections have been made, friendships are growing, and I am constantly learning more and more of their stories.  Its been a nice surprising “benefit” of the job.  When I step back and reflect about it I realize two things about this subculture.  The first is the pressing reality that people are dying to be known.  Regardless of how they go about it or who they’re trying to be,  people long for relationships.  I see people linger for hours at work or come back multiple times a day just for that personal contact.  My coworkers crack jokes, and tell stories, but there is more behind it all.  There is an emptiness devoid of life and joy.  I totally identify with this in that I too long to be known, but I, who knows truth, struggle to not pull away from relationships.  As believers, our relational needs stare us in the face every day.  For the person who does not know Chirst it is an even lonelier world out there in the baren wasteland of our culture.   Most of my friends are ones with people I have met through church or some ministry.  My resource for deep relationships is plentiful and I am constantly around people who really know me. 
   The second thing I notice is that my coffee shop friends have had really negative perceptions of Christians.  I have many conversations about why Christians rip people off, or why people go around claiming to be Jesus, or just questions about God in general.  As believers, we should also not be surprised by this.  We all have, at some point in our walk, done many legalistic and counterproductive things “in the name of Jesus”.  The beauty of it, however, is that those negative encounters my coffee friends have had turn out to be great opportunities for dialogue and discussion.  It’s been amazing and a blessing to have conversations over some coffee and see God at work.  I get to be part of God showing them a different sort of Jesus than they have ever known, and they get to be Jesus to me in ways they yet to even comprehend.  
   I reflect on this now, because it is the summer.  The summer is the season of ministry and college students for me.  This is absolutely my favorite time of the year, but part of me laments having to pull away from my coffee community.  Im totally not the evangelist type, but I feel a sense of commitment to some people at work.  I am now at the point in the friendship where I could call some friends up, ask them to go hang out, and maybe have some deeper conversations with them.  God doesnt need me to be there, but He wants me to be there.  He is working continuously in ways I dont even know.

It’s been a long time…