I'm learning and re-learning a lot about myself in this process, about my strengths and my weaknesses, my hopes and my fears. And I'm reminded again and again of God's faithfulness, especially in my most challenging times. I'm thankful for those times. I think. Because they push me outside of my comfort zone and force me to face my fears and to grow. At least that's the goal. There are a lot of uncertainties going into 2014. More changes to come, undoubtedly. As I anticipate those changes, I look to the One who does not change. Therein lies my certainty- a lesson I am continually learning.
Showing posts with label ponderings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ponderings. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
Reflections
This absolutely epitomizes cliche, but as the year draws to a close, nothing seems more appropriate than to do some reflecting. Sometimes I get so caught up in the minutes and the seconds that I fail to see the bigger picture- how the minutes connect to the days, and how the days connect to the years. A lot has happened this year. It's been a good year. A hard year. A year full of adventure and joy, sadness and pain. Change. I turned 26. I spent ten days exploring Portugal. I applied to grad school, quit my job, and moved to the UK to pursue my masters. Big changes. Sometimes the hardest part about change is the decision to make it. Other times, it's more challenging to adjust to the change.
Sunday, September 22, 2013
Seasons
Like the winter snow melts into springtime blooms, and the summer greens turn to golden hues; so do seasons of life transform in but a moment.
Being a native of southern California, seasons weren't something that I grew up with. I remember being a freshman in college and being overly excited when I saw the first frozen puddle in October. My delight carried through the first snowfall--during which I went sledding on borrowed cafeteria trays--and possibly the second, though it quickly faded when I realized that being perpetually cold wasn't actually as enjoyable as I had anticipated. It did, however, provide an excuse to purchase an entirely new wardrobe. My delight returned with the first blossoms of spring, and I was equally enthralled with the bold, deep colors of fall. While some are more pleasant than others, seasons are interconnected- intricately strung together by divine hands.
There's something beautiful about seasons. They bring change- often anticipated, sometimes surprising. This most recent season in my life came unexpectedly, like a cool breeze on a hot afternoon. What seemed like a monotonous reality turned into a pleasant dream, which then turned into a pleasant reality. From time to time, it still feels like a dream, but it's isn't. It's a gift. It's a long-await gift that I dared to hope for, after what seemed like an eternity of drought. I felt forgotten, left behind. Still, I moved forward, though the cynic in me grew and the hope in me diminished.
But God has this way of blowing my mind when I least expect it and most need it. I discovered this years ago, and I'm still discovering it today. New country, new community. New relationship. He knew all along, even when I didn't. Especially when I didn't. All of the details that worked together to open the doors to where I am now are evidence of his intimate involvement and abundant grace. Undeserved grace. A gift.
Being a native of southern California, seasons weren't something that I grew up with. I remember being a freshman in college and being overly excited when I saw the first frozen puddle in October. My delight carried through the first snowfall--during which I went sledding on borrowed cafeteria trays--and possibly the second, though it quickly faded when I realized that being perpetually cold wasn't actually as enjoyable as I had anticipated. It did, however, provide an excuse to purchase an entirely new wardrobe. My delight returned with the first blossoms of spring, and I was equally enthralled with the bold, deep colors of fall. While some are more pleasant than others, seasons are interconnected- intricately strung together by divine hands. 
There's something beautiful about seasons. They bring change- often anticipated, sometimes surprising. This most recent season in my life came unexpectedly, like a cool breeze on a hot afternoon. What seemed like a monotonous reality turned into a pleasant dream, which then turned into a pleasant reality. From time to time, it still feels like a dream, but it's isn't. It's a gift. It's a long-await gift that I dared to hope for, after what seemed like an eternity of drought. I felt forgotten, left behind. Still, I moved forward, though the cynic in me grew and the hope in me diminished. 
But God has this way of blowing my mind when I least expect it and most need it. I discovered this years ago, and I'm still discovering it today. New country, new community. New relationship. He knew all along, even when I didn't. Especially when I didn't. All of the details that worked together to open the doors to where I am now are evidence of his intimate involvement and abundant grace. Undeserved grace. A gift. 
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Twenty-Six
I stumbled upon a book at Urban Outfitters a couple months back called "F*CK! I'M IN MY TWENTIES." I immediately identified and felt like that adequately explains a lot of things. Oh, roller coaster decade. Sinking and swimming. Valleys and mountains. Deserts and green pastures. Lots of learning and growing. Painful experiences that lead to more learning and growing. Seeing glimpses of glory, or at least faithfulness.
Twenty-five, a pivotal year in the decade, was very much characterized by the twists and turns, climbing and dropping, flipping of a roller coaster. I came out on top, though winded, having developed the machinery that keeps the train on the track--even when everything is turned upside down. Determination. Grace. Perseverance. Hope. Strength. The little engine that could. The view from the top was beautiful and fulfilling, and yet I saw in the horizon more mountains to be climbed and more valleys to face. Twenty-six.
It's only one more than twenty-five, and yet it seems so much older. So much more mature. It solidified my teetering on the fence of adulthood. I'm here, whether I like it or not. Where's the panic button? Actually, and surprisingly, the panic has been minimal. I've had a few months to settle into twenty-six, and I think I'm filling its shoes. Certainly, I have my days when I wonder how I got here and what it's all supposed to look like, but more and more, I'm understanding that it looks exactly the way it's supposed to. On this journey of learning how to live more fully and deeply where I am, I made some goals for myself this year. Most of them aren't anything magical or life-changing, but they're part of what I want twenty-six to look like.
Goals:
-Blog at least two times per month
-Take an international trip
-Pursue photography more
-Laugh more
-Give myself more grace
-Read at least six books
-Practice thankfulness on a daily basis
Progress:
-It's May, and this is my third blog. I'm a bit behind.
-International trip booked. Leaving for Portugal this weekend.
-All of my photography money was spent on purchasing extra memory cards for trip.
-All day, every day. Not really, but I think I have this one covered.
-Giving myself grace as I learn how to give myself grace.
-Finishing up my third book. Ahead of the game and loving it. Next on the list: Great Gatsby, Chasing Daylight, Blue Like Jazz, In Pursuit of God, Bossy Pants, Behind the Beautiful Forever.
-Thankful that there's grace for days when I don't feel thankful for anything.
In other news, twenty-six-year-old Anna still can't parallel park or use chopsticks. I suppose some things will never change. :)
How to tie this all in? The twenties are crazy. Crazy awesome. Crazy horrible. Crazy confusing. Part of the journey is learning how to navigate the crazy as effectively as possible, while still pursuing the things in life that are important to me. Let me know if you find a shortcut.
Twenty-five, a pivotal year in the decade, was very much characterized by the twists and turns, climbing and dropping, flipping of a roller coaster. I came out on top, though winded, having developed the machinery that keeps the train on the track--even when everything is turned upside down. Determination. Grace. Perseverance. Hope. Strength. The little engine that could. The view from the top was beautiful and fulfilling, and yet I saw in the horizon more mountains to be climbed and more valleys to face. Twenty-six.
It's only one more than twenty-five, and yet it seems so much older. So much more mature. It solidified my teetering on the fence of adulthood. I'm here, whether I like it or not. Where's the panic button? Actually, and surprisingly, the panic has been minimal. I've had a few months to settle into twenty-six, and I think I'm filling its shoes. Certainly, I have my days when I wonder how I got here and what it's all supposed to look like, but more and more, I'm understanding that it looks exactly the way it's supposed to. On this journey of learning how to live more fully and deeply where I am, I made some goals for myself this year. Most of them aren't anything magical or life-changing, but they're part of what I want twenty-six to look like.
Goals:
-Blog at least two times per month
-Take an international trip
-Pursue photography more
-Laugh more
-Give myself more grace
-Read at least six books
-Practice thankfulness on a daily basis
Progress:
-It's May, and this is my third blog. I'm a bit behind.
-International trip booked. Leaving for Portugal this weekend.
-All of my photography money was spent on purchasing extra memory cards for trip.
-All day, every day. Not really, but I think I have this one covered.
-Giving myself grace as I learn how to give myself grace.
-Finishing up my third book. Ahead of the game and loving it. Next on the list: Great Gatsby, Chasing Daylight, Blue Like Jazz, In Pursuit of God, Bossy Pants, Behind the Beautiful Forever.
-Thankful that there's grace for days when I don't feel thankful for anything.
In other news, twenty-six-year-old Anna still can't parallel park or use chopsticks. I suppose some things will never change. :)
How to tie this all in? The twenties are crazy. Crazy awesome. Crazy horrible. Crazy confusing. Part of the journey is learning how to navigate the crazy as effectively as possible, while still pursuing the things in life that are important to me. Let me know if you find a shortcut.
Sunday, March 17, 2013
Paper Heart
I started this post a month ago and am just finishing it now. They say better late than never, so here goes.
Valentine's Day is just around the corner, and in light of that, I've been contemplating writing a blog. Historically, my take on V Day has tended to be a cynical one. I usually scoff at the endless commercials for diamond jewelry, boxes of chocolate wrapped in gold foil, and dozens of long stem roses-the typical objects a man uses to express his affections toward a woman on V Day. Do I think it's ridiculous that society has chosen one day a year to express "love" through objects? Yes. Did I secretly want a man to give me diamonds, chocolate, and roses on V Day? Yes. Did it happen? No.
Insert sad song here.
Just kidding. You probably thought I'd spend the rest of this blog weaving a tale of woe, but I've decided to tell a better tale. It's the story of a paper heart.
It was 7:28 on a Thursday evening, and she walked into the food pantry with her dad. I didn't recognize her. Or him. This must have been their first time. I copied down the name and address from his drivers license and handed him a white piece of paper that listed the food items the pantry typically carries. Cereal, granola bars, pasta, peanut butter and jelly... This was the first Thursday of the month, which is the day my church community group serves at a local food pantry. We've been serving there for over six months, and it's been both a challenging and amazing experience. Challenging, because we see the faces of poverty and run around for 3 hours in a hot kitchen stuffing grocery bags with food and sometimes have picky clients who insist on particular kinds of canned soup. Amazing, because we're learning the names of the people we serve and have been able to build relationships with some of the clients and have seen God at work in and through us. We've been praying for more "God moments" at the pantry, and we've been getting them.
He finished checking off the items that he wanted, and I handed the list to a fellow volunteer to fill the order. I've assumed the role of check-in coordinator, so I'm usually the one at the kitchen window taking down names and keeping the paperwork organized while others fill the orders in the back. Rather than taking a seat at one of the available tables, they both stood near the counter, waiting for their order to be completed. I make attempts to strike up conversations with clients as much as possible, and this evening was no different than any other. I started talking with the girl. She had long brown hair, brown eyes, and a shy disposition. I found out that her name is Faith. She's 9 and is in the 3rd grade. We chatted for a couple of minutes- about her favorite subjects and such- and then I handed them two paper bags full of food. They thanked me and said goodbye. I carried on with organizing paperwork.
About 3 minutes after they walked out of the pantry, she came walking back into the room with a smile on her face and something in her hand. It was a paper heart. This paper heart.
She handed it to me and said she had made it in school for Valentines Day. She wanted me to have it. I took it from her hand and stared at the masterpiece I had been handed, amazed. I told her it was beautiful and thanked her with an even bigger smile on my face. She said she'd bring more next time and walked out. I held the paper heart in my hand, the muscle heart in my chest about as full as it could be. Such a special gift. It wasn't fancy or expensive, but it was genuine, and it was full of love.
There are different kinds of love, and all are amazing in their own ways. Valentines Day focuses on a specific kind- the kind that so many of us are seeking. I was shown another kind of love that Thursday evening, and it was exactly the kind that I needed that day. I think that paper heart reflected a piece of God's heart- an illustration of His goodness. And really, it doesn't get much better than that, no matter how dark the chocolate or red the roses may be.
Valentine's Day is just around the corner, and in light of that, I've been contemplating writing a blog. Historically, my take on V Day has tended to be a cynical one. I usually scoff at the endless commercials for diamond jewelry, boxes of chocolate wrapped in gold foil, and dozens of long stem roses-the typical objects a man uses to express his affections toward a woman on V Day. Do I think it's ridiculous that society has chosen one day a year to express "love" through objects? Yes. Did I secretly want a man to give me diamonds, chocolate, and roses on V Day? Yes. Did it happen? No.
Insert sad song here.
Just kidding. You probably thought I'd spend the rest of this blog weaving a tale of woe, but I've decided to tell a better tale. It's the story of a paper heart.
It was 7:28 on a Thursday evening, and she walked into the food pantry with her dad. I didn't recognize her. Or him. This must have been their first time. I copied down the name and address from his drivers license and handed him a white piece of paper that listed the food items the pantry typically carries. Cereal, granola bars, pasta, peanut butter and jelly... This was the first Thursday of the month, which is the day my church community group serves at a local food pantry. We've been serving there for over six months, and it's been both a challenging and amazing experience. Challenging, because we see the faces of poverty and run around for 3 hours in a hot kitchen stuffing grocery bags with food and sometimes have picky clients who insist on particular kinds of canned soup. Amazing, because we're learning the names of the people we serve and have been able to build relationships with some of the clients and have seen God at work in and through us. We've been praying for more "God moments" at the pantry, and we've been getting them.
He finished checking off the items that he wanted, and I handed the list to a fellow volunteer to fill the order. I've assumed the role of check-in coordinator, so I'm usually the one at the kitchen window taking down names and keeping the paperwork organized while others fill the orders in the back. Rather than taking a seat at one of the available tables, they both stood near the counter, waiting for their order to be completed. I make attempts to strike up conversations with clients as much as possible, and this evening was no different than any other. I started talking with the girl. She had long brown hair, brown eyes, and a shy disposition. I found out that her name is Faith. She's 9 and is in the 3rd grade. We chatted for a couple of minutes- about her favorite subjects and such- and then I handed them two paper bags full of food. They thanked me and said goodbye. I carried on with organizing paperwork.
About 3 minutes after they walked out of the pantry, she came walking back into the room with a smile on her face and something in her hand. It was a paper heart. This paper heart.
She handed it to me and said she had made it in school for Valentines Day. She wanted me to have it. I took it from her hand and stared at the masterpiece I had been handed, amazed. I told her it was beautiful and thanked her with an even bigger smile on my face. She said she'd bring more next time and walked out. I held the paper heart in my hand, the muscle heart in my chest about as full as it could be. Such a special gift. It wasn't fancy or expensive, but it was genuine, and it was full of love.
There are different kinds of love, and all are amazing in their own ways. Valentines Day focuses on a specific kind- the kind that so many of us are seeking. I was shown another kind of love that Thursday evening, and it was exactly the kind that I needed that day. I think that paper heart reflected a piece of God's heart- an illustration of His goodness. And really, it doesn't get much better than that, no matter how dark the chocolate or red the roses may be.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
God is Bigger than the Bullshit Part 2
Have you ever had one of those days where most things in life seemed to be falling apart? I've been having one of those months. Yesterday, I wrote about the fact that despite all of the crap that we experience, God is in control and will bring us through it. I'm feeling less sure of that today. Every time I feel like my heart is healing or I'm trusting a little bit more, I get shoved to the ground again. It's seriously getting ridiculous. I know that God promises not to give us more than we can handle, but I feel like I can't handle it anymore. It's not as if the things that are happening to me aren't normal, but it's the way they're happening and the timing that are pushing me to my limit. Am I being punished for something? Is God testing my faith? Or are these all just random coincidences that happen to shake me to my core? I don't know, but I'm getting tired of it.
The book of Job seems to be the story of my life these days (or at least today). "If only my anguish could be weighed and all my misery be placed on the scales! It would surely outweigh the sand of the seas- no wonder my words have been impetuous (hence the 'bullshit'). The arrows of the Almighty are in me, my spirit drinks in their poison; God's terrors are marshaled against me... What strength do I have, that I should still hope? What prospects, that I should be patient? Do I have the strength of stone (thanks to boot camp, I'm getting close)? Is my flesh bronze (perhaps after a few more hours in the sun)? Do I have the power to help myself, now that success has been driven from me (I've got no strength left)?"
And yet: "He wounds, but he also binds up; he injures, but his hands also heal." When does that happen? Can we get that healing process going soon?
The book of Job seems to be the story of my life these days (or at least today). "If only my anguish could be weighed and all my misery be placed on the scales! It would surely outweigh the sand of the seas- no wonder my words have been impetuous (hence the 'bullshit'). The arrows of the Almighty are in me, my spirit drinks in their poison; God's terrors are marshaled against me... What strength do I have, that I should still hope? What prospects, that I should be patient? Do I have the strength of stone (thanks to boot camp, I'm getting close)? Is my flesh bronze (perhaps after a few more hours in the sun)? Do I have the power to help myself, now that success has been driven from me (I've got no strength left)?"
And yet: "He wounds, but he also binds up; he injures, but his hands also heal." When does that happen? Can we get that healing process going soon?
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
God is Bigger than the Bullshit
Some days, that's about as profound as my theology goes. Today is one of those days. I feel as though I'm being sucker punched from every direction. It hurts. I'm bruised and broken and am having a hard time catching my breath. I'm trying to make sense of it all, and yet sense is nowhere to be found. So I find myself clinging to faith.
Even when things appear to be falling apart before my eyes-when life seems to throw curve ball after curve ball-I have to remember this truth. God is bigger than all of it. He's bigger than my job. He's bigger than relationships. He's bigger than location. He's bigger than fears, uncertainties, and confusion. And He's bigger than pain. As long as I can maintain that perspective and remember God's place in the hierarchy of my life, I think I'll be ok.
A friend recently sent me these words of encouragement: "He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together." Even the bullshit. He's got that under control too.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
A Constant in the Change
It's been a while since I've written, and I've had a lot to write about, but I've needed some time to process and reflect. This is my attempt at getting back into it again.
Little did I know when I wrote my last blog just how relevant it would be. Shortly after my 25th birthday, things in my life changed significantly. I wasn't looking for the change, and I didn't want the change, but it happened nonetheless. And it shook my up, as change often does. It caused me to experience what I would call an identity crisis. Having a significant part of my life taken away forced me to analyze my situation and to re-think through some of the bigger questions that I suspect many of us are still working through:
Who am I?
Where do I belong?
From whom or what do I derive my worth?
Am I content with where I am in life?
How can I find fulfillment?
How does my faith impact the way I choose to live my life?
These are just a few of the biggies that I've been thinking through lately. Perhaps I should have them answered by now, but we all grow and develop and learn in different ways and at different paces. This is where I am right now. It's a painful process, this journey of self-discovery. But it's a critical one.
Do I have these questions answered yet? No. At least not entirely. I'm more sure of some things and less sure of others, but there is one thing that has been made abundantly clear in this process: God is with me every step of the way. How do I know? Because I've seen it. And I've felt it. And it's awesome. During the time of my deepest pain and confusion, God spoke these words to me in a very cool way (ask for details if you'd like to hear the story), "Ever present, I am never absent, I am always with you." The way this message was delivered to me blew my mind. And God's been doing that lately. He's been blowing my mind.
In my last blog post, I quoted Socrates: "The only real wisdom is knowing you know nothing." What I wrote next was a perfect introduction to this next chapter of my life: "That's about where I am these days. I don't know what I'm going to do with my life, I don't know where I'm going to do it, and I don't know who I'm going to do it with... Actually, that's not true. I'll be doing it with God beside me every step of the way. He has yet to leave my side, and since He's the one who knows everything, I'd say he's a pretty good companion to have."
Truth. I've been experiencing an unexpected and overwhelming sense of peace in all of this change and ambiguity, which is a good place to be. So as I wait for my next move, I'm resting in the knowledge and faith that God will be taking that step with me.
You may be wondering why I choose to be so vulnerable on my blog, and frankly, I often wonder that myself. Being vulnerable is dangerous, but it's also brave and honest and real. And that's what I am. I'm honest and real. Brave is debatable. :)
Little did I know when I wrote my last blog just how relevant it would be. Shortly after my 25th birthday, things in my life changed significantly. I wasn't looking for the change, and I didn't want the change, but it happened nonetheless. And it shook my up, as change often does. It caused me to experience what I would call an identity crisis. Having a significant part of my life taken away forced me to analyze my situation and to re-think through some of the bigger questions that I suspect many of us are still working through:
Who am I?
Where do I belong?
From whom or what do I derive my worth?
Am I content with where I am in life?
How can I find fulfillment?
How does my faith impact the way I choose to live my life?
These are just a few of the biggies that I've been thinking through lately. Perhaps I should have them answered by now, but we all grow and develop and learn in different ways and at different paces. This is where I am right now. It's a painful process, this journey of self-discovery. But it's a critical one.
Do I have these questions answered yet? No. At least not entirely. I'm more sure of some things and less sure of others, but there is one thing that has been made abundantly clear in this process: God is with me every step of the way. How do I know? Because I've seen it. And I've felt it. And it's awesome. During the time of my deepest pain and confusion, God spoke these words to me in a very cool way (ask for details if you'd like to hear the story), "Ever present, I am never absent, I am always with you." The way this message was delivered to me blew my mind. And God's been doing that lately. He's been blowing my mind.
In my last blog post, I quoted Socrates: "The only real wisdom is knowing you know nothing." What I wrote next was a perfect introduction to this next chapter of my life: "That's about where I am these days. I don't know what I'm going to do with my life, I don't know where I'm going to do it, and I don't know who I'm going to do it with... Actually, that's not true. I'll be doing it with God beside me every step of the way. He has yet to leave my side, and since He's the one who knows everything, I'd say he's a pretty good companion to have."
Truth. I've been experiencing an unexpected and overwhelming sense of peace in all of this change and ambiguity, which is a good place to be. So as I wait for my next move, I'm resting in the knowledge and faith that God will be taking that step with me.
You may be wondering why I choose to be so vulnerable on my blog, and frankly, I often wonder that myself. Being vulnerable is dangerous, but it's also brave and honest and real. And that's what I am. I'm honest and real. Brave is debatable. :)
Saturday, March 24, 2012
So Long, Early Twenties. 'Twas Nice Knowing You.
It's not like I'm expecting to feel any different. After all, this birthday will be just like the rest. I'll wake up in the morning and think to myself, "Anna, you are now one year older. Better start investing in anti-wrinkle cream." (Ha!). Nothing will have changed from today, when I am twenty-four, except that I'll be twenty-five, a quarter of a century old, and my car insurance rates will drop because I will officially be beyond the "wreck-less" years.
I realize that twenty-five is the new eighteen -or so I've been told- but for some reason, twenty-five seems different that the first five years of my twenties. It seems so much older. After all, my age can now be rounded to thirty, which is a terrifying thought (apologies to anyone reading this who is older than I am and is currently rolling their eyes at the thought of twenty-five being old- I'll be in your shoes one day soon). Everyone I talk to keeps telling me that twenty-five is young and that I still have my whole life ahead of me to figure things out. It's funny, though. Seems like the older I get, the less I have figured out. Or maybe that's the point.
Socrates once said, "The only real wisdom is knowing you know nothing." That's about where I am these days. I don't know what I'm going to do with my life, I don't know where I'm going to do it, and I don't know who I'm going to do it with. Actually, that's not true. I'll be doing it with God beside me every step of the way. He has yet to leave my side, and since He's the one that knows everything, I'd say he's a pretty good companion to have.
As I kiss twenty-four goodbye, I'd like to reflect on twenty-four things that I'm thankful for:
1. A God who loves me unconditionally, died and was resurrected to save me, and continues to pursue a relationship with me
2. The greatest parents in the world, who would do anything for me
3. Three amazing siblings who are such a joy and are growing up to be such wonderful individuals
4. The best girlfriends in the world, who often know me better than I know myself, and who, despite the distances, remain a constant source of support in my life
5. Grandparents who have been praying for me every day since I was born
6. A close-knit extended family who all love and support each other
7. The man who loves me
8. Jack and Walter
9. My church community
10. My job
11. Having a college degree
12. My international travel experiences
13. My Canon 20D
14. Good health
15. A car that works
16. My giant bedroom with a non-leaking roof over my head
17. My singing voice
18. The gift of creativity and art
19. Colleagues who care about me
20. The lovely weather we've been having this spring
21. Four weeks vacation every year
22. Living in a country where I can openly profess my faith
23. Having clean water to drink
24. Laughter
I realize that twenty-five is the new eighteen -or so I've been told- but for some reason, twenty-five seems different that the first five years of my twenties. It seems so much older. After all, my age can now be rounded to thirty, which is a terrifying thought (apologies to anyone reading this who is older than I am and is currently rolling their eyes at the thought of twenty-five being old- I'll be in your shoes one day soon). Everyone I talk to keeps telling me that twenty-five is young and that I still have my whole life ahead of me to figure things out. It's funny, though. Seems like the older I get, the less I have figured out. Or maybe that's the point.
Socrates once said, "The only real wisdom is knowing you know nothing." That's about where I am these days. I don't know what I'm going to do with my life, I don't know where I'm going to do it, and I don't know who I'm going to do it with. Actually, that's not true. I'll be doing it with God beside me every step of the way. He has yet to leave my side, and since He's the one that knows everything, I'd say he's a pretty good companion to have.
As I kiss twenty-four goodbye, I'd like to reflect on twenty-four things that I'm thankful for:
1. A God who loves me unconditionally, died and was resurrected to save me, and continues to pursue a relationship with me
2. The greatest parents in the world, who would do anything for me
3. Three amazing siblings who are such a joy and are growing up to be such wonderful individuals
4. The best girlfriends in the world, who often know me better than I know myself, and who, despite the distances, remain a constant source of support in my life
5. Grandparents who have been praying for me every day since I was born
6. A close-knit extended family who all love and support each other
7. The man who loves me
8. Jack and Walter
9. My church community
10. My job
11. Having a college degree
12. My international travel experiences
13. My Canon 20D
14. Good health
15. A car that works
16. My giant bedroom with a non-leaking roof over my head
17. My singing voice
18. The gift of creativity and art
19. Colleagues who care about me
20. The lovely weather we've been having this spring
21. Four weeks vacation every year
22. Living in a country where I can openly profess my faith
23. Having clean water to drink
24. Laughter
Saturday, December 24, 2011
A Christmas Reminder
It's Christmas Eve, and from anyone's perspective, it's been a successful one. The whole family is together to celebrate, there is a rather large pile of presents under our tree, my mom prepared a Christmas ham for lunch, and we all sat by a cozy fire and ate pumpkin pie and homemade fudge while opening presents (one of our family traditions is for each person to open one present on Christmas Eve, but to save the rest for Christmas day).
To end our evening, we went to a Christmas Eve service. Not only is this another family tradition, but it's also an obligation, at least for my dad. He's the pastor of a small church in Dearborn, Michigan (think ghetto Detroit). It takes about an hour to drive from our cookie cutter home in the suburbs to the church, which is in the middle of a hurting community in which about one out of every three buildings is borded up, there are liquor stores on every corner, and I would actually encourage Albert to bring his gun along (if you know me, you know this rarely happens).
So we went to church, enjoyed a Christmas skit by the children, sang a number of Christmas hymns, and lit candles to commemorate the night when Jesus came into the world. It was nice, but I would hardly say that I was moved. In fact, I was really just looking forward to starting the hour-long drive back to our cozy house to partake in more Christmas festivities. After a few minutes of post-service mingling, we piled back into our 2002 Toyota minivan and took off for home.
The only good thing about driving through the hood is that gas is cheap, and my dad made sure to bring cash. There's a particular gas station where he always stops. We pulled up, and he got out of the car to pump gas. Since he was paying with cash, he had to go inside to give money to the teller. So he walked toward the station and as he did so, I noticed a man who was loitering outside the store approach him. I reacted the way I typically do when I see people like that.
"He's just going to ask for money," I thought to myself. "They all ask for money, and they all use it for the same thing." A neon lotto sign flashed in the background as my dad came out of the store. When he did, the man approached him, and I could see that he was saying something. He followed my dad to the car, and my dad handed him a couple of bucks. When I saw the man's face, he became real to me. He was no longer just a bum on the corner begging for change. He became a person. A person with needs and wants and hopes and dreams, just like me. And he is spending Christmas Eve in the freezing cold at a gas station.
I asked my mom if we had any food in the car, and it just so happened that we had some apple sauce. So my mom got out of the car to talk to him as my dad continued pumping gas. She asked if he wanted some apple sauce, and he said "Yes, that would be great." As they exchanged words and my mom handed him the apple sauce, he gave her a hug. Tears started flowing down my face, as the reality of what so many people are facing this time of year really hit home. Here I was wearing a flashy new watch and anticipating all the other presents I would be opening tomorrow, while this man-and so many others like him-are just looking forward to their next meal.
Wow. This really put things in perspective for me. With all the hustle and bustle of Christmas preparation-shopping for presents and planning nice meals, trimming the tree and decking the halls-I failed to prepare for the most important part of Christmas: Christ. Preparing for Christ means getting our hearts ready to not only receive him, but also to share him. It's about remembering who he is and why he came. He came to serve the least of these. Christmas presents are nice, but they have no intrinsic value. And when I'm surrounded by hurting people, presents really aren't even that exciting to receive. I failed, once again, to focus on the true meaning of Christmas. Shame on me for being so selfish that during this Christmas season, I haven't looked beyond my own wants to find a way to bless those around me.
I still love all the sentimental things that surround Christmas, and I'm sure I always will. But I need to add another tradition-sharing the love of Christ with those in my community who are less fortunate that I am. It's a simple gesture that can mean a lot, both for those I reach out to and for me. As we drove away from the gas station, I prayed for that man and his family. Only God knows what his needs are, and only God can bring healing in his life. But I am so thankful that God put him in my path to remind me about what's really important.
I hope that as you celebrate Christmas, you, like I was tonight, are reminded of the true meaning of Christmas. Celebrate the birth of Jesus, God's Son, who came not to give shiny presents, but to bring hope to the hopeless and new life to those who are lost.
Merry Christmas.
To end our evening, we went to a Christmas Eve service. Not only is this another family tradition, but it's also an obligation, at least for my dad. He's the pastor of a small church in Dearborn, Michigan (think ghetto Detroit). It takes about an hour to drive from our cookie cutter home in the suburbs to the church, which is in the middle of a hurting community in which about one out of every three buildings is borded up, there are liquor stores on every corner, and I would actually encourage Albert to bring his gun along (if you know me, you know this rarely happens).
So we went to church, enjoyed a Christmas skit by the children, sang a number of Christmas hymns, and lit candles to commemorate the night when Jesus came into the world. It was nice, but I would hardly say that I was moved. In fact, I was really just looking forward to starting the hour-long drive back to our cozy house to partake in more Christmas festivities. After a few minutes of post-service mingling, we piled back into our 2002 Toyota minivan and took off for home.
The only good thing about driving through the hood is that gas is cheap, and my dad made sure to bring cash. There's a particular gas station where he always stops. We pulled up, and he got out of the car to pump gas. Since he was paying with cash, he had to go inside to give money to the teller. So he walked toward the station and as he did so, I noticed a man who was loitering outside the store approach him. I reacted the way I typically do when I see people like that.
"He's just going to ask for money," I thought to myself. "They all ask for money, and they all use it for the same thing." A neon lotto sign flashed in the background as my dad came out of the store. When he did, the man approached him, and I could see that he was saying something. He followed my dad to the car, and my dad handed him a couple of bucks. When I saw the man's face, he became real to me. He was no longer just a bum on the corner begging for change. He became a person. A person with needs and wants and hopes and dreams, just like me. And he is spending Christmas Eve in the freezing cold at a gas station.
I asked my mom if we had any food in the car, and it just so happened that we had some apple sauce. So my mom got out of the car to talk to him as my dad continued pumping gas. She asked if he wanted some apple sauce, and he said "Yes, that would be great." As they exchanged words and my mom handed him the apple sauce, he gave her a hug. Tears started flowing down my face, as the reality of what so many people are facing this time of year really hit home. Here I was wearing a flashy new watch and anticipating all the other presents I would be opening tomorrow, while this man-and so many others like him-are just looking forward to their next meal.
Wow. This really put things in perspective for me. With all the hustle and bustle of Christmas preparation-shopping for presents and planning nice meals, trimming the tree and decking the halls-I failed to prepare for the most important part of Christmas: Christ. Preparing for Christ means getting our hearts ready to not only receive him, but also to share him. It's about remembering who he is and why he came. He came to serve the least of these. Christmas presents are nice, but they have no intrinsic value. And when I'm surrounded by hurting people, presents really aren't even that exciting to receive. I failed, once again, to focus on the true meaning of Christmas. Shame on me for being so selfish that during this Christmas season, I haven't looked beyond my own wants to find a way to bless those around me.
I still love all the sentimental things that surround Christmas, and I'm sure I always will. But I need to add another tradition-sharing the love of Christ with those in my community who are less fortunate that I am. It's a simple gesture that can mean a lot, both for those I reach out to and for me. As we drove away from the gas station, I prayed for that man and his family. Only God knows what his needs are, and only God can bring healing in his life. But I am so thankful that God put him in my path to remind me about what's really important.
I hope that as you celebrate Christmas, you, like I was tonight, are reminded of the true meaning of Christmas. Celebrate the birth of Jesus, God's Son, who came not to give shiny presents, but to bring hope to the hopeless and new life to those who are lost.
Merry Christmas.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Life as a Movie
Beyond my appreciation of his writing style, this book laid out an interesting perspective on life. The premise of the book is that our life is like a movie. We are the main character. Every movie has a storyline-a plot. Some stories are more entertaining than others. Some are full of excitement, while others are dull. But any good storyline has a climax and an anti-climax. And what really makes stories interesting is conflict. It can be conflicting ideologies, a lovers' quarrel, a misunderstanding, a war. Conflict is interwoven throughout the plot, creating varied interaction between characters. Conflict leads to the climax, which in turn, leads to a resolution. Without these elements, the storyline is boring.
Our lives are very much the same way. Miller paralleled conflict in a movie to conflict in our lives, and talked about conflict as an opportunity for growth. Conflict doesn't have to be an argument with our friend or fist fight. It can be an internal struggle, a mind game, conquering our fears, stepping out on that limb, even if we're afraid it might snap. When we settle for complacency and refuse to take those leaps of faith because we're afraid, our life is like a boring movie. No excitement, no conflict, no climax, and no resolution.
There are countless times in my life when I've been afraid to do something. Afraid of the unknown, afraid of under-thinking, afraid of over-thinking, afraid of change... I was afraid to go to college all the way across the country, but I did it, and I have grown in so many ways because of it. I was afraid to move back to Philly for a job, but I did it, and it's been an incredible experience. I've been afraid to let go of certain relationships, but I've done it, because I knew deep down inside that it was the right thing to do. My point: Not to tell you the story of my life via my fears, but to emphasize the importance of allowing conflict into your life, because conflict creates opportunities for growth. So the next time you face an obstacle in your life that is hindering you from being who you want to be or heading in the direction you want to go, woman (or man) up and face it head on. It might hurt a little bit, but it will be worth it!
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Bloom Where You're Planted
One of the quotes that I have heard numerous times in my life is "Bloom where you are planted." The idea behind this statement is that we should dig our roots deep and thrive wherever we are, regardless of our environment. An interesting thought, and I definitely believe that there is some merit to it. After all, a large part of our success and happiness stems from a conscious decision to make the most out of every situation and to be the best the we can be, regardless of circumstances. I do think that who we are as a person is enormously up to us to decide. However, I think that it would be dishonest and, frankly, wrong to assume that our environment does not have a significant bearing on our outcome. We do not live in a vacuum. Our lives are framed in context of the specific geography, point in history, cultural setting, etc that compose life as we know it.
This reality has been brought to my attention as of late in my search to discover who I am, who I want to be and where I want to be. Having grown up in Southern California and now living in Philadelphia, I have experienced almost polar opposite environments, particularly referencing the cultural dissimilarities. California is sunny, both literally and figuratively speaking. It is relaxed, it's open to anything, it's creative. Philadelphia, despite what FX may have you believe, is not always sunny. In fact, it is rarely sunny. It is more academic than creative, and more rigorous than relaxed. Recently, I have really begun to realize that I am a different person in California than I am in Pennsylvania. No, I don't grow a foot or assume a male persona. But I do notice a difference in my personality, the way I express myself, and even the way I feel about life.
And this brings me back to the idea that we are significantly influenced by our environment. One of the things that I've been struggling with most about being in Philadelphia, other than being physically separated from my best friends and my family, is the lack of creativity and openness. Life is so much more rigid out here. Work is more competitive. There are always people to impress. But it's so much more than that. It's the entire culture, the way people interact, the lingo. I feel less inspired when I am out here, or perhaps I'm inspired in a different kind of way.
I recently returned from a 2 1/2 week trip to California, where I had the pleasure of being in two of my best friends' weddings, as well as catching up with a lot of high school friends and some of my family. I had a wonderful time and really let loose. I partied and acted a bit crazy at times, and I enjoyed every minute of it. I guess the best part about my experience on this trip was that I was able to express a side of me that I don't usually have the opportunity to express on the east coast, or at least don't feel comfortable expressing. So it was a bit of a release for me. And I knew that no one was judging me, because they associate with this side of me. We have that connection.
The transition back to the east coast after such a long trip was especially difficult for me this time. There were a number of factors that contributed to the difficulty, but I think the hardest thing for me was letting go of west coast Anna and facing east coast reality head on. Having been back for 2 weeks now, things are back to normal, and I'm feeling pretty good about life in Philly. I'm beginning to realize that there are things here on the east coast that inspire me. They're just different things. Rather than being inspired by sandy beaches rainbow sandals and California burritos, I now find beauty in the changing colors and crisp fall days.
So perhaps my earlier argument of significant environmental and circumstantial impact on our lives is null and void. Well, not quite. I still believe that, to a certain extent, external factors play a determining role in our outcome. However, it is up to us to decide how to act on those factors- whether to let them get the best of us, or whether to make the most of them. And therein lies the beauty of "blooming where we are planted."
This reality has been brought to my attention as of late in my search to discover who I am, who I want to be and where I want to be. Having grown up in Southern California and now living in Philadelphia, I have experienced almost polar opposite environments, particularly referencing the cultural dissimilarities. California is sunny, both literally and figuratively speaking. It is relaxed, it's open to anything, it's creative. Philadelphia, despite what FX may have you believe, is not always sunny. In fact, it is rarely sunny. It is more academic than creative, and more rigorous than relaxed. Recently, I have really begun to realize that I am a different person in California than I am in Pennsylvania. No, I don't grow a foot or assume a male persona. But I do notice a difference in my personality, the way I express myself, and even the way I feel about life.
And this brings me back to the idea that we are significantly influenced by our environment. One of the things that I've been struggling with most about being in Philadelphia, other than being physically separated from my best friends and my family, is the lack of creativity and openness. Life is so much more rigid out here. Work is more competitive. There are always people to impress. But it's so much more than that. It's the entire culture, the way people interact, the lingo. I feel less inspired when I am out here, or perhaps I'm inspired in a different kind of way.
I recently returned from a 2 1/2 week trip to California, where I had the pleasure of being in two of my best friends' weddings, as well as catching up with a lot of high school friends and some of my family. I had a wonderful time and really let loose. I partied and acted a bit crazy at times, and I enjoyed every minute of it. I guess the best part about my experience on this trip was that I was able to express a side of me that I don't usually have the opportunity to express on the east coast, or at least don't feel comfortable expressing. So it was a bit of a release for me. And I knew that no one was judging me, because they associate with this side of me. We have that connection.
The transition back to the east coast after such a long trip was especially difficult for me this time. There were a number of factors that contributed to the difficulty, but I think the hardest thing for me was letting go of west coast Anna and facing east coast reality head on. Having been back for 2 weeks now, things are back to normal, and I'm feeling pretty good about life in Philly. I'm beginning to realize that there are things here on the east coast that inspire me. They're just different things. Rather than being inspired by sandy beaches rainbow sandals and California burritos, I now find beauty in the changing colors and crisp fall days.
So perhaps my earlier argument of significant environmental and circumstantial impact on our lives is null and void. Well, not quite. I still believe that, to a certain extent, external factors play a determining role in our outcome. However, it is up to us to decide how to act on those factors- whether to let them get the best of us, or whether to make the most of them. And therein lies the beauty of "blooming where we are planted."
Friday, July 30, 2010
Recent Ponderings
Over the years, I have discovered that my deepest and most spiritual moments have taken place in nature. Whether I'm hiking through the alps, searching for sand dollars on the beach or laying in a field staring up at the stars, I experience an indescribable sense of peace- a connection with both creation and creator. Despite my constant doubts, the times when my faith seems to fail me and I question the purpose behind life itself, I cannot ignore the feeling that there is so much more than what meets the eye. Beyond the physical realm, there must exist a more powerful force or being that gives order to the chaos and reason to the inexplicable. Regardless of the scientific arguments and political rhetoric that claim to explain life as a mere series of random events, I believe without reservation that there is a level of divinity that exists beyond human comprehension. One can take a relativist stance, but if there is indeed a supreme being who rules over the universe, it seems to me that [His] existence and sovereignty are an absolute truth, regardless of one's personal perception and experience. If a blind man argues that the sky is green, does that make the sky green? My point with all of this (if I have one) is that creation itself speaks of a creator, and if there is a creator, is [He] not creator, and therefore Lord of all?
I'd love to hear your thoughts, as I by no means have this figured out.
I'd love to hear your thoughts, as I by no means have this figured out.
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