5/27/14

Some days I am thin-skinned.
Some days I am fragile like a tea kettle on the edge of a precipice.
Some days the air in the common room is thick like peanut butter in summertime.
Some days the lies come rushing, so sneaky and subtle that I don't catch them till they have put down their nasty little roots and are already chopping at the oak trees in the river.

Some days at work, God puts music into my head.

Dwell in the midst of us
Wipe all the tears from our faces
Dwell in the midst of us
You can have Your way,

so we pour out our praise pour out our praise,
it's your breath in our lungs…

Some days.

5/26/14

5/25/14

the crickets are soothing.
I work at seven but I just want to watch Parenthood and bask in the cricketness.

…and if my neighbors wake me up at 4 like the past four nights or so, I may call the police.

Corpus. p.1.

My community is shared orange
slices and tuna salad you brought
in tupperware for me to eat later.
How God always cares for me lavishly
through His people,
for my belly and my soul,

meaningful conversations while
communing in simplicity,
laughter because the water fountain sprays,
sitting quiet without words in our mouths
but ears full of crickets,
enraptured with each season's delights
because we are Yours.

Community, you hold my soul
and we live less heavy between
each other's strong grasps
where my faults are called out gently,
called out and up, safely,
and my strengths are brought like dawn.
You bring them brightly.
And where my soul can breathe
but I am breathless.

(last line stolen ;) )

5/12/14

Processing. Part 1.

we watch our sister dance her soul up to that stage.

sesame chicken and beef lo mein with her mama and her papa, and her brother.

let’s go find the sunset. we find the river first, herons and dried up metallic fish corpses, a water snake climbing the stone wall. wilderness.

dangled feet and speaking the fear, figuring this out. honesty is all i have.

the first nine mosquito bites of the season.

summer has sprouted overnight.

driving these gorgeous flat lands with the windows down, hair flying freedom. breathing the aroma of early spring and late afternoon light.

taco bell and you put your destiny into my hands so I wanted to make sure it was good. our brother’s service.

simplicity.

when she leaves, gabi and i swipe her tears to taste them, and they taste like mine.

i cannot stop crying.

liz brings home strawberries. my soul has wanted fruit and sunlight all day. thank You.

and i am lonely,
but this is enough.

4/26/14

My role.

We watched and talked about this video in class one day.


This is the way I look at my participation:

The orchestra played for one little girl. It sounded like she put a few coins into the hat. I’m going to assume she didn’t put much in. So they played for what she had. The orchestra did not wait for more money before bringing out more instruments. (Now, maybe more people put money in, and quite possibly the little girl was a plant, but let’s look at what we do see, not speculate about what we don’t. Because after all, that’s God’s job, not ours.) What we see is one small girl throwing a few coins into the hat and being rewarded for it with a full symphony and choir. WOAH.

In this scenario, I think ITeams, and therefore me, could be the little girl. We show up, and we invest the little that we have, and then God shows up in magnificent, faithful ways. It’s not us who cause the music, it’s God.

I think ITeams could also be a piece of the orchestra. I don’t want ITeams to get credit for being the whole thing. I think ITeams would be a violin, or the timpani, or a soprano singer. We are one piece of what God is doing around the world. And we show up for the one girl. We show up for a few cents.

We could even be the crowd, showing up to get to witness what God, the music, does for the little girl.

But I think we are probably a violin.

That’s how I see it, and it gives me great hope.

4/25/14

I'm okay with it.

I find myself leaving orientation today with much more discomfort than when I came. I am not in love with the organization, but I am all right with this. I chose International Teams because the vision and mission of the organization, and how ITeams went about getting there, lined up with what I wanted to do. And after a week (five days) of being here, learning the nuts and bolts, it still lines up. I may not be in love with the nitty-gritty of how the organization runs, probably because I haven’t had any experience in an organization of this magnitude, but I am in love with Jesus, and I know that He works through this organization, and my soul is still very much at peace about it, even though my heart and mind are afraid and unsure.

Yesterday (Thursday) morning, we gave practice presentations to the staff about what we’ll be doing, fake fundraising stuff. I felt rather silly, as I haven’t fully adopted the ITeams vision for myself, even though I agree with it. But I was told that my story was powerful, and T, one of the workers in training as well, told me she could hear the Holy Spirit speaking though me. That encourages me more than anything, because even though it wasn’t perfect and I’m not even sure I have embraced the message yet, God still used me. The pressure is off. There was no pressure in the first place, not from God. I haven’t embraced this yet, either, but I will.

In the afternoon class, we were asked how the experience was for us. I told them straight up, the president was in the room and some other people high on the list of command, that it was strange for me because I don’t fully trust ITeams yet. I love the vision, but I haven’t yet seen it lived out. I’ve heard the words but I haven’t yet seen the action. I know that’s where faith comes in. I’ve got to believe that God chose this organization to do His work, just as I believe he chose me.

After dinner we had worship and were asked to talk about a kairos moment, a God moment, or a light bulb, or an aha! moment we had this week. I was sniffling away in the corner because when big things happen in my life, good or bad, I cry about them, though I’m exceedingly uncomfortable crying in front of people I don’t know well. Anyway, we got to me. I told them that I didn’t have a moment, and explained again about the trust, that I’ve committed, but it might take me longer to fully grasp my part here. And I’m okay with that. Because while I don’t fully trust the organization yet, I do trust Jesus. And I know that He will teach me to trust where I need to trust. But I just want to cry about it for awhile. And I’m okay with that.