All I Can See

This July I went to Italy for 2.5 weeks. Now, I've been back for months. I came back, and didn't want to go to work. I didn't want to start the mundane tasks of cleaning, unpacking, laundry, or even cooking. I had changed, but I was back in a world that didn't seem to accommodate my change. But I had started a new ellipse around my old life, similar patterns, but different interactions.


I just wanted to keep traveling, to keep seeing new things, understand more, ask more questions. I want adventure. Coming home feels like the adventure for summer is over. The excitement is over, and nothing new will happen and rock my world, but the world of the present may smother me. Each place, each face, each set of steps to a dome, each painting, fresco, or sculpture of the trip brought more wonder. More questions. More desires to see and understand. Everything in life seems all wrapped up in one big blob of questions, desires, and goals. It's like my universe is trying to strangle me.

• I was sad to come home. But coming home also brought solidarity and safety.
• I was reluctant to start daily functions, for fear I'll forget "the other way" we did things away from home. Will I forget the packed buses of Rome? Or the smell of markets or bakeries? Will I remember the delicate but clear aroma of fresh baked bread with cheese and prosciutto as lunch sandwiches from 2 Brother's?
• I was excited to bring new ways of doing things into my daily life here. How to make a cappuccino in a french press. Enjoying amaretti or biscotti with my coffee. 
• I was bummed that I did not see everything. But then, could I really see everything or even if I could, could I take it in?
• I was and still am enticed by future options, future travels, future explorations.

Coming back took away the new frontier I was exploring. My heart wants to be open to understanding languages and cultures, fields and mountains, paths and roads, maps and globes. It still yearns for another place, to understand people more. This yearning reminds me of the cyclical, funnel-shaped nature of life.

I am back into a similar pattern as before, but in a new orbit. Each cycle of a day is a new point on the map. Each interaction a chance for understanding. Seasons of life come and go as the rotation of life comes and goes. But it does not stay on the same orbit. Each plot-point of each day shapes the direction and speed in which our lives turn -life never comes back to the same spot, making each moment a one-time gift. As water swirling in funnel moves in a direction without touching the same place twice, the swirl of life happenings may go around in the same funnel, and have the similar shape, but be in a different situation, a tighter pull toward the center.

Some things are the same, anchoring life and me in new situations. I still love traveling different country-sides. Instead of traveling France on bike like 2 years ago, we traveled Italy by train. I still like solitude. Instead of shade trees, we made use of piazza's for rest breaks. I enjoy simplicity. Instead of cooking each meal, we frequented food stands many times. I still am learning to trust. Instead of staying glued to the maps, I trusted friends to lead.

Around and around.

Same, but different.

Similar, but changed.

What is my center of daily life? What am I being pulled towards each day? When I look at my daily choices and habits, what is the same as the past and what has changed? Do I want to continue in that direction? with that force? with that pattern? How will this translate back into life here in Chicago or wherever I am in the world? How have I let myself be changed and how can I let that out and draw nearer to God and His world?

I can't see everything. And when I can't see everything, I can make small goals, small dreams come true. All I can see is what is before me. But what I can do, is as Brendan James sings, "ask the Creator of all good things ... what it means to live" and then listen for His response.

May I keep moving in the direction God leads. Though the funnel might narrow, His grace and truth holds me, and the world in place, providing what we need for that moment in life, that point in time.

Weary Rest

Why is my soul so chipped inside? So sad, hurt, and tired?

How come my heart is worn to the core, ready to lash out or cry?

Lord, I work for you, live for you, and try to share your compassion with the world around me.

I look around, and it is they, the world of selfishness, anger, and lust that are full of life.

What I say and do is held in disdain, questioned, and pushed away.

Yet together they drink, laugh, and carouse, enjoying the bonds of friendship.

Like a cliff by the sea, I am being eaten away at the core, not able to hold the waves back.

Little by little consumed by the tide, it weakens, bends, and crumbles.

Oh Lord, How can Your character be built in me when all lifestyles around daily surround and hide your face from my view?

Instead of your face, I see only pain, confusion, and contortions of Your fallen creatures, and know not what to do.

Where can we go for healing? Where can I hide to find care?

In silence, my mind roars.

In community, my soul is alone.

In searching, my heart hides.

In peace, my psyche goes mad.

But I still will praise You. Your honor I will sing.

Community you brought together.

Friends you have provided to be with, to listen.

Family you have given back.

Yourself, you died for all.

Your Spirit lives within me. His touch and presences heals.

Build a guard against the waves, give me strength to keep on standing.

Carve the contour of your heart on my soul though I may not see you inside.

Friendships for eternity you are building, bringing joy, hope and purpose.

Those around me will falter and fall down, longing for what you offer.

You lead my steps when I follow, You take me deep into your heart.

Tenderly you wait for me to come, Gently you open Your embrace.

My soul will rest in God my Saviour, being healed from hurts now raw.

Inward fatigue now bathed in hope,

Displays your unfailing love.

My heart now shaped more like Yours, each dent and bruise and hole,
Ready to offer shelter; Thank You for making me whole.

Hidden Memories

As I packed my goal of one to three boxes a day, I've come across things I knew I had, but forgotten about. Memories flooded back from the last few years, hidden or missed over this time.

I remember buying these 100 Chinese bike-tube patches for less than $2. I've only used 3 so far. I've biked many-a miles from my old apartment (>3000). My bike could tell stories, some of the ending with him getting extra care in our front little grass-patch, as I bandaged him up. But sure as a marine, he leaves no man (or woman) left behind: He's still my trusty transportation! 

I remember when I brought home the first orphan-flowers. Being thrown out at work, I brought them home 2.5 years ago amid snickers from coworkers. Their new home gave them soup-can or plastic-cup pots to stretch their roots into. Later they acquired real "clothes" of terra-cotta pots. Now, they bask in my new window, among other orphan plants, waiting for summer to blossom.

I remember when a Starbucks customer gave me a bag over the counter, saying the scarf was just perfect for me. What that meant, I had no idea until I opened it up on my break. Lo and behold! I pulled it out. And kept pulling it out. And Kept pulling it out! 11 feet later... yes eleven feet later, I found the other end with matching gloves and a hat!



And this scarf has come in hand this winter., I've been toasty warm in these winter years -okay months- of below freezing and negative temperatures with its long, long, long arms encircling me up to 4 times!

I remember when I rolled and stuffed posters into this tube before going on the bike trip to France. I was so certain that after I returned from France, I would be starting a new life teaching in Haiti. I wanted at least a few wall-memories to take with me along with some of my art. And here they are, I never did unroll them after that plan fell through, which turned out for the betterment of all. The pain has softened.



I remember countless nights in the dorm room with Heidi, Andrea, Kara, Allie, and so many others, drinking hot chocolate, tea, or just hot water from this little hot-pot. We learned and gained friends and sisters, character polishing and refining, tears and hugs: precious moments that are graven into my heart and life. And of course, keeping with tradition, our mood or need in that moment decided for which mug of meaning was used (or was offered by the others!). Life is fun and joy-filled, even with broken areas of us. Beauty and encouragement from multiple avenues. Chaos and simplicity, contrasts and strengths, and character amidst stress.




Beautiful blessings pop out everywhere when I take a moment look around. What blessings and memories has he brought to you?

Moving Musings

The Abbey. The Downtown Abbey of Chicago. Close to work, friends, and Lake Michigan. L tracks right next to us, ambulances at all hours of the night, and people everywhere. Flower baskets, Christmas lights, and anticipation in the air. The Abbey. A place of refuge for a college graduate. A haven for Child Care Worker turned barista. Rest for a tired soul. Home.

About three weeks ago, the situation became clear. I wasn't planning on it. I did not want to do it. But it was needed. I chose to move.

That last word slowed life to a halt. I was choosing to leave the home I knew, the location I loved. Reasons for moving were real and pressing.

But I don't like moving, even though I can pack a box with items to be moved so that there is no packing material needed, no corner left unused, and therefore using as few boxes as possible. Even though I know the boxes, how to label each and write it down to eliminate digging through 10 boxes for the 1 item I need. Even though I can stack odd-shaped boxes without wasting an inch of floor/car/moving space.

I have moved 11 times. This is #12. Moving is "old-hat." Outwardly excited, this time I get to set up my own apartment as I want. I get to be closer to my Chicago family. I get to establish new routines, find new grocery stores, and new favorite haunts.

Inwardly I dread moving and transitions. Apartment hunting and signing. Packing, actual moving, and the unpacking. Energy to begin new relationships. Strength to say goodbye well. Changing close relationships. Losing others. Being uncomfortable in new situations. Learning new social and neighborhood norms. I should think I'd have these skills down by now! I may have them honed, but I don't want to use them. Can I be normal for once and not have change in my life?

Or is change normal?

God never said life would have no changes. As He redeemed Israel from Egypt, He changed almost every aspect of life to reflect Himself in every-day activities. When Jesus came, He changed the world completely. Instead of just activities, He changed hearts and He created a new lifestyle. To be an ambassador of Him is to be changed continuously: being molded into a being more reflective of Him than before.

Change in inevitable.

And so is His Presence.

He is present in every change. Nothing happens without Him being there, allowing it, since He is "with [us], even to the end of the age." And if He is there, He is my strength to stand under the stressors. He is the comfort when my pain emerges. He is wisdom when my relationships change. He is understanding when new norms are confusing for me.

He shows His power if and when we look to Him for the strength. He shows His love when we ask for comfort. He shows His omniscience when we trust His wisdom.

"Sing joyfully to the LORD, you righteous; 

it is fitting for the upright to praise him.

For the word of the LORD is right and true;

He is faithful in all He does.

The LORD loves righteousness and justice;

the earth is full of His unfailing love.

"The plans of the LORD stand firm forever,

The purposes of his heart through all generations.

"We wait in hope for the LORD;

He is our help and our shield.

In Him our heartrs rejoice,

for we trust in His holy name.

"May your unfailing love rest upon us, O LORD

Even as we put our hope in You."

(Excerpts of Psalm 33)

Things I Wanted to Hear

Remember back to different locations, moves, events, and people, I'm flooded by different  thoughts and emotions and needs. This is about my story, and perhaps anyone else out there who has played hopscotch with countries and cultures (or been close, good onlookers, of those who played).

I have had much support and encouragement over the years. And I also find there are some things that would have been really encouraging to hear if they were not used as stand-alone phrases.  It is  encouraging to hear words of encouragement that connect to a reason and reality. Otherwise it is easy for meaningful words to sound hollow.

It's ok to be sad. Grieving a loss does not mean there is no excitement for the future. Driving onto the on-ramp of I-80 as we left Omaha to head back to Eleuthera, I left friends and memories; places and people that changed me. Hearing the news that we wouldn't be moving to Germany, but rather Nebraska, hit me hard. I would actually have to live like a "normal" American... what does that look like?!

You are normal for what you have gone through. Not just the "you are normal" part, but the end where instead of judging to the standard of "normal" -whatever that is- it is linked to an experience. Yes, I may not have acted, thought, or in some places even looked like those around me. Living in an American family in a different country, but playing and being with Bahamians in and after school, traveling and talking with Americans mostly about my parents' job (or what I did or didn't know of American culture) set me up to be exactly who I was. Judging from what my life experiences had taught me, I was normal. It would have been abnormal for me to have acted and thought just like my American or Bahamian counterparts.

It's ok to say "no" and/or not like something. Not helping someone with their homework did not make my decision racial. Not doing what a sibling wanted did not mean I didn't love them. Not liking cassava didn't mean I didn't appreciate old-time culture. Not wanting to be around certain people after they attacked my character was okay. Treating them with respect is still a must. But "negative" emotions are not "bad." They are real and impact life.

It's okay for you to hold yourself with value and not allow others to pummel you. Playing on a new volleyball team at a new school, only to hear teammates and coaches talking behind my back with ridicule and favoritism was not okay. There was no need for me to put on the "nice facade" of silence/ignorance and nice-ness demanded by the 'Christian culture' to "keep the unity." Ever heard "the least said is the quickest mended?" It may be a quick fix and "serve the peace", but it doesn't heal -it can hide authenticity, and deteriorate trust.

There is pain, and it is okay, just as there is joy and it is okay too. Squashing or ignoring one, will result in the other being distorted. Like sunsets while camping at a beach: The same clouds can be breathtakingly beautiful, and immediately filled with doom when they become a wall of rain and storm clouds. If moving, or saying a long-term goodbye, or grieving, hearing the words, "just think about what's coming next" or "Lets think about the positive" does not eliminate. Rather it ignores a part of the present and gives the impression that the present isn't important, and that whatever is hard, sad, or hurtful isn't okay to acknowledge! This stinks!

It is okay to "do" nothing if that is what your soul needs to simply "be" and "be whole." I'm not talking about laziness. Traveling and speaking at conferences and churches, playing on sports teams, completing school work, having guests over or being a guest, "having" to play with neighbors, Bible clubs, more traveling, more activities, more things to do. Activities are part of living. I needed time to be with myself and others as people, not be a pon or fixture in the game of life.

Chicago Comforts

In the last three months, I've begun to cherish some things in Chicago. 

Why now? Well, as the old cliche goes, 

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

I cherish nature. Walking through Humbolt Park, Lincoln Park, even down a city street flooded with fall mums and corn-stalks brighten my day. I can look up through the clear, crisp blue sky and relax. God is still working out beauty in the city through plants.

I cherish tea (and warmth!). During the chilly walk home, I look forward to making a cup of spearmint tea, bundling up in my chair, and reading. Yes, it will be a text book I hold in my hands, but, hey, I am going to enjoy my tea! -It sure makes the text-book much more appealing!

I cherish music. I don't know how many days I come home, and just have to sing at least one favorite hymns, just for the joy of singing! Five minutes of music, lifts my spirits. God is beyond words, and these songs just point towards Him.

I cherish walks. The simple, one mile to work, weaving around people on the sidewalks, brings me joy. I look forward to those 20 minutes of inner solitude.

I cherish relationships. Time may be limited to Sunday's, but these moments, sometimes hours with friends, lift my soul for the next few days. By Thursday night, I am looking forward to Sunday again. Singing, talking, laughing and sharing with friends. Friends of all ages. Friends of months, and friends of years.

I cherish relationships of longevity. Going to church and being with and talking with people who I have known for 2-4 years is very encouraging. Some of these are the people who have laughed with me over skits, teared up over changes, listened and encouraged during decisions, yelled during the Bears games, biked miles of bike paths, cooked different ethnic foods, and simply are there beside me in life. 

Thank you Lord for these comforts in Chicago, these little things to meet needs. You hear, You see, and You know, and now You are providing in Your own unique way.  You are Sufficient.

Back to School Rafting

During these past 2 years of finding stability after college, I have been learning and practicing how to steer the boat of life more gently and understand which rocks and rapids I can and cannot handle.



I have been looking ahead at the distant white foam and spray of graduate school. Now it is here, all around me. Rocks. Spray. Scenery. The boat. Other rafters. Water.

The river raft of life has entered another stretch of white water. As different waves toss different issues of life up into the air, what is on the inside of my boat will come out. For a life as a counselor, do I want to keep it? or change it? or let it get out of my life? What new tools and equipment do I need for this specific river and the river branch(es) that I individually will be one after school? Which style of steering will I adapt to? Who will be with me in the boat now, helping me steer? push ahead? bail water?




Each class has its boulders, creating different water currents, spray patterns, and hitting different sides of the boat. My calendar is filled, marking each, preparing for each, and with God's help, passing each safely.

Along with boulders is my boat itself, carrying me through this, allowing me to go through this channel of white water. Working at Lawry's The Prime Rib as host and server with a few hours at Starbucks each week are giving the air needed to keep me afloat. Here is a tricky part I am beginning to negotiate: when too full of air, the raft may pop; when too low on air, the raft (and I) may sink. I pray for wisdom and guidance in discerning this balance.

With raft and rocks to think about, I often get caught up in the logistics. Yet I pray that I never lose sight of the scenery, the little things that make up the time and place He has placed me. These are gifts to be enjoyed, not ignored.

There are other boats around me. I am not alone. Some near, some far. I see the different colors of each. Some have traveled beside me at church. Others survived the rapids of Moody with me and then lost contact. Now they are showing up as I enter this stretch. Many are new boats, new people I haven't met that God has brought into my life for these months ahead. I pray and look to see how we will influence each other, giving and receiving help, encouraging and pointing out leaks. May we strengthen each other.



And the best part of the trip, the essential that is easily forgotten, the crucial aspect to rafting, and the only way for my boat to enter, stay afloat, interact with others, and thrive is still the uncontrollable part of rafting: The Water itself. The water that I must trust. The water that sometimes seems calm. Sometimes rough. Sometimes angry. Sometimes gentle. Sometimes refreshing. Sometimes annoying. Sometimes painful. Sometimes seemily far away. Sometimes drenching. Sometimes pushing. Sometimes pulling. Sometimes easy. Sometimes difficult. Sometimes pure strength. Sometimes calm. Without this water, my boat would be nowhere.

Without the Lord, I would be nowhere.