You chose to be Christian?

Not too many hours ago I was sitting in my kitchen of my job that I'm about to leave (which I chose not to), playing cards with a co-worker. The topic of High School extra curricular activities came up. After rambling off everything that didn't have to do with church (mostly because I'm afraid to be overbearing in my faith) I finally mumbled, "and then after I became a Christian I got pretty involved in church stuff."
To my surprise, it surprised him. He was surprised that I chose to be a Christian. It wasn't something that was forced upon me, nor was it something that I grew up in (however that's up for debate, as I went to school in England when I was a younger child). Christianity, for me, never really had any obligations or family ties like he felt his Jewish faith did.
I suppose what really surprised me about his reaction, was that in my circle of Christian friends, it's almost 50/50 for those of us who grew up in Christian home and went to church regularly, and those who somehow managed to end up in the foyer of a church, scratching their head thinking, "Ummm how did I get here?" I fall into the latter.


(Maybe I'll finish this thought later).

Being

I am a human doing
I am a human did
I am a human going to do
I struggle with being

Being implies that I simply am. Being does not allow me to impress you or anyone with what I can do, or disappoint with what I can't.

You know what I think? I think God let us call ourselves human beings for that exact reason. We can't do anything but be to be loved by Him.

I wonder though, where does love come into it? If I'm talking about being and more so about God, love sounds like it should enter into the picture.

Now love is tricky because I have it in my mind that we show people love with our actions, but that would be doing. Can I simply be love?? I don't think so, I think that would imply that I am God.

Perhaps it's a matter of reflecting. Reflections are much clearer if what they are being reflected in is still. So, would it make sense, to allow God's love to reflect off of us by simply being who He created us to be, rather than doing all the time?

I think it's too late for me to be wandering down this train of though.

Sometimes easy isn't easy

Today, I turned in my resignation in a job that I just started. To me it sounds thoughtless and irresponsible, and I suppose in a way it is. In this moment I feel awful and afraid. Awful because I have let people down, afraid because I might have made the wrong decision.
Scared because all of a sudden the bottom has dropped out beneath me. Suddenly I know exactly where my God is, and I have been too stubborn to turn around and look him in the eye.
In reality I try so hard to do things by myself, like a stubborn child who hasn't figured out how to tie her shoes. No mater how hard I try by myself to live my life I get it all knotted up or get no where at all.
Today I feel all knotted up in the midst of no where at all. And as much as it hurts, I'm ok because I have started to realize where my priorities are and where they should be.
With that said, it is time to simply sit on my hands, shut my mouth and listen.

Sometimes the easy way turns out more difficult. Sometimes opportunities that are placed in your path are simply distractions in pretty wrapping paper.


**Update: I ended up not leaving this job**

bobbers

There were really only two kind of days of the week I did not like lifeguarding this summer. The first was clearly the last shift. The last shift of the week meant cleaning the bath/changing rooms. It wasn't even so much of cleaning than it was keeping others on task so you didn't end up doing it all yourself. The second type of day was the first day of the camp session. While the first day had it's positive aspects - excited kids, and refreshed counselors - it also meant it was the day that I was most likely going to have to jump in.
You see kids (especially younger ones), generally get overly excited. Mixing over excitement and water that goes above their head is rarely yields good results. More often than not this equation equals what I, and the rest of the lifeguards this summer, referred to as "bobbers." Bobbers are kids that find themselves in water too deep to stand in (either from accidentally drifting, or jumping into deeper water). Once this occurs bobbers will bounce up and down trying to stay afloat, or in some cases not even recognize that they are in any sort of danger. At that time, with a mild sense of frustration yet overwhelmed by compassion and adrenaline, I or a fellow lifeguard, would have to jump in and get the kid to safety. Once at the side of the pool, our job was to make sure the child was ok, and send them on their merry way. More often than not we would point out a visual marker for the kid to stay on the other side of when they were playing in the pool. Usually it was the bathroom door or the ladder. A few more times than I'd hoped, I found myself having to tell or pull the same child into shallow water more than once.

Upon coming back home to look for a job, I can't help but feel a little more compassion for the child I had to pull out of deep water more than once. After all, isn't that what God does for us when we jump into things too soon, or make decisions based on the wrong premise? Or just blatantly ignore his direction.

Home to the fog... and a bit about gravy

I suppose it would have been wise to at least mention that I was going to be without regular internet access nor have sufficient time to truly sit down and write something meaningful this summer. However like many wise thoughts I have, they tend to get lost somewhere between my mind and my mouth (in this case my fingers).

So where have I been? Well I've been in Michigan working at the same summer camp I worked at in 2006 (the summer before I started this blog). I'm not sure if I mentioned that I was going or not, or what led me to go, but that's where I was. Without going into a long drawn out (and probably boring) account of my summer (which in reality wasn't boring at all), I will just leave it up to my current affairs to bring up thoughts and stories from my summer at camp.

This past week back in San Francisco has come in short eventful spurts, most of which had to do with being a tour guide to a friend of mine from Russia (a fellow camp worker). I think we managed to see most of San Francisco, including Alcatraz (one of my top five favorite national parks in the US), Pacifica, and the Redwoods, all in a matter of 4 days. *Note* so I said short bursts but really, it's been a pretty busy week in hindsight* In the midst of being a tour guide, and seriously considering applying to work at Alcatraz (found out I couldn't due to my lack of US citizenship), I was trying to secure a job. An organization had been courting me since I haphazardly gave them a cut and past copy of my resume with my contact information, before I started my week long road trip back to CA from MI. I honestly wasn't all that interested in the position, but I figured it would be a good opportunity to get into the swing of all things business casual and interview-y. After a few brief phone calls, and a 30 minute phone interview, I was invited for a four hour interview and observation... yes four hours!

After going over the job duties and organization history, I was asked to observe and interact with the teens and staff if I felt comfortable. As I'm not one to just sit and/or stand in the way, I asked if I could help with anything, and that's when the gravy came in. The woman who I would be stepping in for simply threw it out there "Hey do you know how to make gravy??" Now growing up in a family that takes their holiday meals more seriously than the reason we observe them, there was at least one thing I knew how to cook, and it happened/happens to be gravy. For some reason I was usually tasked with stirring the gravy, and making the whipped cream at most family functions. Needless to say, I was glad to have a task but a little nervous, feeling that my possible job was on the line. Thankfully I must have made decent gravy because I now have a job.

It wasn't until I saw the passion that the staff had for what they were doing that I really started to take the job that I had been offered seriously. In fact, I almost canceled the interview. A bigger reason for my hesitation in taking the job had much more to do with my fear of moving in than anything else (I think I might post a bit about that later). After some prayer and conversation with my mom and some friends I decided to take the job with the safety net of keeping my apartment for the first two months just in case it was the wrong decision.

So there you have it, an excuse as to why I haven't written in a few months, and a very short update on what's been going on!

Belated thoughts on Mother's Day

I'm thankful that I can look and my mom and know that she is an amazing woman. I can see her for all the sacrifices she made for me, the knowledge she passed along, and the love that continues to show me in her own way. I haven't always been able to do that. I have often focused on the pains in our relationship. More often than not, I have overlooked the times that she went above and beyond to care for me. Instead, I saw the occassions she let me down, or hurt me. Now, as I'm getting older I can

I sat in chapel today as one of the "higher ups" gave a belated talk on Mothers Day. As a not so unexpected surprise, he spoke about the Proverbs 31 woman, and even compared a mother's love to 1 Corinthians 13. Most of us oooed and ahhed at the right times as he went through the outstanding characteristics of our mothers, and gave examples of how mothers exude patience, protection and a hardworking spirit. However, at our tables, we also bemused ourselves with times our motherly parental unit missed the mark on those biblical standards (think for a moment about the phrase "keeps no records of wrongs"). Don't get me wrong I love my mom (regardless of our struggles), and I'm sure most of us the room did too, but can I be so bold as to say, perhaps we expect too much? I can't help but think of two ways that lining up our mothers against the standards of Proverbs 31 of 1 Corinthians 13 can negitively effect both mother and child.

As a woman, and hopefully a mother in the future, Proverbs 31 personally makes me want to crawl into a hole. Ok that's a little strong, but let me explain. I struggle to set reasonable expectations for myself. In other words, I can be somewhat of a perfectionist in certain areas of my life. That long list of duties, turned expectations, often feels like a ball and chain. By the time it gets down to verse 30, "Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised." I am so overwhelmed, I can hardly see the redemption of knowing that at least I have that whole "fearing the Lord" down for the most part. I feel a little less intimidated by this whole talk of love... I like to love, and I enjoy the idea that God comes along side us and shows us how to love. Still, I know that as I go through that list, I am sure to have short comings.

love and commitment

(wrote this 4/29/08)

I went for a walk on the bluffs of Pacifica this past Friday. I didn't particularily want to spend all that much time by myself but I was bound and determined to get a nice hike in. Honestly though, it was probably best that I had a bit of time to reflect and just enjoy the awe inspiring wonder of Northern California. As I listened to Matisyahu (my favorite Hassidic Jewish Reggae/Rapper) and contemplated Jesus, I was overcome by a sense of love. I am in love with Jesus. Not just a small crush, or high school romance. I love Him. I want to understand His every move, His culture, His family. I want to know Him better than I know my friends and family. This isn't necessarily the first time I've felt this way, but I think it's the first time I really looked at the disconnect between how I feel about Jesus, and the lip service I give Him.

This issue...
As much as I love Jesus, I am rediculously lame when it comes to engaging in that relationship on a reading and prayer level. I lack commitment in the worst possible way, oh and discipline. I look for anyother way to get my hands dirty with the Lord's work. Lay Ministry, Biblestudy, Youth work, outreach, giving... anything that gets me engaged with people and engaged with what Jesus did during his time on Earth. Sit me down with a Bible and two hours of silence and I will squirm around like a Kindergardener who needs to pee. I will honestly spend more time finding the intriquecies of the corner of a wall, than talking to my God, or reading about His people. Tell me nothing is sick and twisted about that??

I don't think I'm alone in this paradox