Bearing Witness

In my graduate program, we often spoke of the importance of “bearing witness” to the experiences of others, most often in the context of suffering and trauma. We frequently discussed what it means to fully present with someone as they walk through an experience or even as they recount a past trauma. This gift of bearing witness, of standing with them, and of being able to “vouch” for them, in a sense, was one of the most powerful concepts to me, as I’ve seen it manifest in so many ways in daily life.

As I mentioned in my last post, I’m in the process of moving to an apartment in the city. I honestly didn’t think I’d be moving for a while, but I shouldn’t be surprised that life didn’t turn out that way. (When do our plans ever end the way we think they will?) I’m so excited to be moving in with a friend from grad school, to be living in the city, and to be significantly closer to work. Yet over the last month I have had such a mix of emotions I pack and prepare to leave my current home. When I moved to New Jersey nearly two years ago, I was in a completely different season in life. Looking back on it now, it honestly feels like a different lifetime, or not even my life, for that matter. As life has changed since then, I have learned a lot about physical space and how it impacts our mental and emotional state, and I’ve striven to put those lessons into practice.

I’ve come to believe that just as people can bear witness to the experiences of those around them, so can space bear witness to our lives, both the good and the bad. And as I pack up my home yet again, I’m reminded with each box how this apartment has borne witness to so much over the past two years – to laughter and to tears, to love and to heartache, to joyous celebrations and to quiet, reflective moments. I have learned that there are some spaces that, as seasons change, need to be kept sacred. They need to be left untouched as they hold the all the moments of good, each moment that is special for that space in life. And then there are spaces that need to be reclaimed, those spaces that need to change with season and need to be reinfused with positivity where there was once pain.

As I sit here in half-packed living room – with it’s nearly empty walls and boxes stacked in corner – I’m amazed at how much this little piece of space has changed with the seasons. Looking back at old photos I took shortly after I moved in, you almost wouldn’t know this is the same space. And as difficult as it is to leave this apartment, I look at this space and see how it now reflects me and the changes that have happened within me as I’ve lived here. This living room, this apartment, this space, has borne witness to both the most defeating times and the most victorious triumphs of my short twenty-something years. With this new season of life, I’m looking forward t

Faithfulness

I can’t believe it’s been so long since I’ve sat down to write like this – there is so much to fill you in on! The “quick and dirty” version: got a job in my career field, have been super busy transitioning to my new job and absolutely loving it, and now I’m prepping to move into the city. But all that’s for another post, as my mind is elsewhere today.

I had the privilege of spending this past weekend with my family and celebrating the 75^th anniversary of the church in which I grew up. I’ll be honest: I was a little hesitant to go to the celebration and wasn’t sure if I really wanted to be there for it. Without getting into the nitty-gritty, there’s just been a lot that’s gone down in the last 5 to 8 years, and it just seemed easier to not go. In the end, it was one of the best decisions I’ve made in recent months.

As I sat in church yesterday morning, singing along to “How Great is Our God,” I was so overwhelmed by the faithfulness of God. This month marks 7 years since a critical turning point for so many of us who had grown up in that church, and at that time, I was convinced that things would never be okay again. I struggled for a long time trusting anyone in any church, and I was so disillusioned by the body of Christ as a whole that I really wasn’t interested in participating in any church body. And yet, as we sang together yesterday morning, and I looked around and saw so many people who hadn’t been back to the church in years, I was reminded of how God brings healing, reconciliation, and restoration in his perfect timing and in his way. Seven years ago, if you told me that so many of us would be gathered together, and relationships would be restored, I would not have believed you – it just didn’t seem at all possible. But I’ve seen how God has worked through me and through others, softening hearts and turning us back to one another, and it’s just the most beautiful thing.

All that rambling to say…God is faithful. Plain and simple. And I feel so blessed to have shared this weekend with some old friends – life feels as if it makes sense again, and it’s been a while since I have felt this centered. This weekend was just a wonderful reminder that God has some sort of crazy plan, and no matter what comes next, he is faithful!

Rising to the Occasion

“If you don’t rise to the occasion, the best part of you will die.”  ~ Lily Yeh

It’s been one year since an occasion was presented to me. At the time, I only saw it for what it was in the moment – heartache, pain, and the abrupt end of a season in life. But 365 days later, I can see the bigger picture and understand that it was truly a remarkable occasion in my life...

…an occasion to discover who I am in the most authentic ways.

…an occasion to try new things, meet new people, and explore new places.

…an occasion to look the unknown future head on and say “I’m not afraid” (or depending on the day “I’m absolutely petrified but I know I’ll be okay”).

…an occasion to learn and grow, both as an individual and in community.

What would have happened if I hadn’t risen to the occasion? What opportunities would I have missed? And worse yet, what part of me would have been lost?

I definitely don’t have it all figured out, and I’m still growing, but I feel confident today that I have risen to the occasion and the opportunities that were presented. I think one of the scariest things is that the occasion – whatever it may be for you – likely isn’t an easy one. The best parts of us aren’t forged in the easy times, right? Rather, it’s in the adversity, in the lowest points of life, that our character is tested and refined and that allows the best part of us to not only survive, but thrive.

True Love and Deep Grace

What a whirlwind the past month has been! I’ve been trying to sit down and write for so long, and yet my time has been captured by so many other more urgent items. But that’s how it goes, right? Nothing to say and lots of time to write, or so much to say with no time to write. ;)

One of the last times I wrote, I had been in a really weird space in life and wasn’t sure what was causing the emotional funk I had found myself in. It was about mid-February when I found out that a friend had given me one of the most generous gifts I’ve ever received. I was absolutely floored by this gift, especially since it was given by a friend that I have recently met and have mostly gotten to know via social media.

As I pondered this precious gift, it occurred to me that the deep sadness I was feeling was a result of feeling not only unloved, but unlovable. I don’t feel the need to be liked by everyone – I am fully aware that it’s just not realistic – but when experience after experience tells you that you’re not worth someone’s time or their respect, it starts to wear on you. And I had started to believe the lies. I believed that I wasn’t worth someone’s time to be cared for, to have a conversation, to be respected. But my friend’s gift – given freely and selflessly – communicated to me the incredibly powerful message that I was loved and worth loving, simply because I was a person. That was a deeply powerful and moving statement, and for the first time in a while I felt not only loved, but lovable. 

There’s something about that epiphany that transformed my outlook. If I was so loved just because I was me, than how much more are others worth love and care for simply being them and being human? It was also a powerful reminder of how much God loves me – there was nothing I could ever do to be worthy of being loved enough to die for me, and yet He did it anyways. He loves me simply for who I am, because I am made in His image, and this gift was a physical reminder of that true love of God. And by feeling so overwhelmingly loved, I felt free to love others in real, tangible ways.

Of course, we also know that God never just does one little (or big) thing at a time in our lives – they come in bundles, right? Sure enough, right on the tails of this reminder of what love really is came an incredible lesson about grace.

It’s been just about a month now since I got a call that my supervisor for my radio documentary project had an accident and would be out of commission for the remainder of production time. We were two years in to the project and two weeks out from our anticipated completion date, and suddenly I found the fate of the radio piece in my hands. Not only did I have other major events in the works with looming deadlines, I also had never produced a radio piece before, so I had no clue where to even begin to finish this.

Without listing the agonizing details of stressful endless days, there was a retired producer who came alongside me and agreed to help me finish this. I was thrilled to have any type of help in completing the radio piece, but she went far beyond that – she dove in head first, teaching me the process of radio production and investing time in my professional development. I was flabbergasted. She could have easily said no, but she was willing to jump in next to me and walk with me through the entire process.

As if that weren’t enough grace, I sent a panicked email to some friends when additional help had fallen through on a task that I had no experience (or equipment) to complete, and within 3 hours I had a list of people ready and willing to help out with the project. A friend agreed to take on the task, and despite unexpected issues with the interview tapes and multiple changes by the producer, he patiently stuck with it until the project was done. It was a form of community and an expression of grace that I hadn’t experienced in a very long time.

I was blown away that so many people who had no investment in the project were willing to hop on board at the frantic last minute and help see this project through to its successful completion. Their patience, flexibility, and dedication were thoroughly humbling. As much as I’ve heard about grace in church as I grewup, it wasn’t until this month that I had a deeper understanding of what grace really is. This tangible expression of grace from those around me was a powerful reminder of the grace that God has shown toward me.

The past five weeks have been hectic, exhausting, emotional, empowering, and life-changing. More than ever, I understand now that life, and particularly the Christian life, cannot be done alone. I have experienced true love and deep grace from those around me, and it is the selfless actions of others that have taught me lessons more powerful than any sermon or Sunday School class. These tangible acts of others have humbled me and filled me, placing me in an incredible place to give freely to others the same love and grace that has been demonstrated to me.  

God of my Present

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately – shocking, right? ;) Thinking about the past, thinking about where I am now, thinking about where on earth I may end up, and thinking about how life might have been different. And naturally, a lot of emotions have come up – some warm and fuzzy, others raw and painful. After the first few weeks of this year, during which I felt so much peace and contentment, this new phase has been particularly unsettling. Although I can intellectually know it’s natural, emotionally it’s exhausting and discouraging.

On my way to church this morning, I was riding this train of thought again. In particular, I was considering the different paths that each of us takes in life. I’ve seen so many links getting passed around Facebook lately about “22 Reasons I Got Married Before Age 22” or “15 Reasons I Waited until I was 30 to Get Married,” and frankly, I’m getting sick of it. Yes, I have my opinions on the matter, and as one who’s almost 26 and still single, I’ll let you guess where I land on the matter. But at the end of the day, life looks different for everyone, and that includes the choice of not only when one gets married, but also if one gets married at all. Who am I to say that someone who is 22 is too young to get married? Just because I wasn’t ready at that age doesn’t mean nobody else is. But at the same time, I don’t want people assuming that those of us taking on our late twenties as singles are somehow “less of an adult” because we don’t have spouses. Could I have been married right out of college? Sure. Would that relationship have been the healthiest for me? Very likely not. And while I don’t have a husband and children to come home to at night, I do have a graduate degree and have both traveled and lived overseas. I really believe that it just comes down to life choices and what we value at certain stages in life – our choices have outcomes, for good or bad, and we just need to be content with those decisions.

So it was with these thoughts running through my head that I walked into church this morning – life choices, where I’ve been, and what the next steps in my career and personal life are. And then our pastor started his sermon titled “Roaming for Rest.” Yep, an entire sermon about the quest for contentment. As he walked us through the passage in Ecclesiastes, he said there are those who will search for fulfillment in work, and those who will search for fulfillment in family. While neither of these things are inherently bad, neither will bring fulfillment if they replace the space in our life that God should fill. If we seek fulfillment in those things rather than God, we miss the meaning of life and the contentment that comes with resting in the Lord.

Even more than that though, we will never be content if we are constantly looking forward to a time when we will be fulfilled in the future. Contentment is not circumstantial and based on external factors, but instead, it’s cultivated internally and is centered on fulfillment in God. And while God will provide for our future with what we need (note: not what we want or perceive to need), he is the God of our present. He is the God of what we encounter today, what we need today, and what is happening right now. He is enough for right now.

As this entire blog can attest, I am certainly not at the place in my life that I thought I’d be as I approach my late twenties. But I am learning to deeply love a God who has provided what I needed in the moment it is needed. While I can dream and plan and hope for tomorrow, I must live in today and trust the God of my present. 

If life were a Hollywood movie…

…this would be the part of the movie when the leading lady sells all her stuff, packs her journal, camera, and a few cute outfits, and moves to a different continent.

I don’t know what it is, but the last week or so has been particularly rough. I really didn’t want to post about it, for fear that the post would be perceived as a pathetic pity party, but after some serious thought I’ve decided to write a bit about it. Not because I want a pity party, but because it’s hard to be authentic if one doesn’t talk about the valleys along with the peaks. And unfortunately, it’s been a week in the valley.

Granted, not everything about the past week has been terrible. In fact, there have been a few wonderful moments in which I have felt absolutely loved. But at the end of the day, there has been this sadness that I just can’t find the trigger for. As someone who has always been able to identify my emotions and their causes, this has been rather troubling. And when I can’t find the reason for this crazy mix of emotions, I just want to run away. I want to sell my stuff and travel lightly – go somewhere new and just start over. Embark on an adventure that makes me feel alive again…an adventure that makes me feel something. Anything.

As I sit here in the small coffee shop in my quiet little town, I’m overcome by the fact that I can walk in, order, and sit here typing away without thinking twice about customs or looking out of place. I can tune out the noise around me and not think much about what’s happening elsewhere in the shop. And as nice as it is to blend into the background, I miss the assault on my senses as I walk through Kigali – the bright colors, the oppressive smell of fumes and heat, and the incessant noise of the city. I miss the Italians nearly glaring at me as I walk down the street because I lack bella figure with my tacky American style. I miss the feeling of being extra vigilant of customs as I stroll through the streets of Ireland – so similar to home in so many ways that the need to be extra mindful of different customs brings a quickening of the heart and a sense of life that seems to come only with travel.

Honestly, I’m not sure what the point of this post is, or how to wrap this up. I guess there really isn’t a conclusion to this. No moment of enlightenment or stroke of genius – just a little space to process, share the raw parts of the journey with you all, and ramble on about the need to get on a plane to anywhere. I’m sure that in a few days, the sun will be out again and life will feel beautiful again, but for now, it’s just the rawness and realness of the rough spaces in life that help us appreciate those sunny times when they return.

Authentic Living: Faith

Where does one even begin to describe their faith journey in a simple blog post? It’s certainly no easy task, which is – once again – why it’s been so long since I last posted.

Last year began with the goal to discover what it means to live authentically. As the year progressed, I quickly realized that as I uncovered authentic living in each area of my life, the meat of the issue came back to my faith – what did I believe, and how did I act on that? I can’t say I was in the space last year to tackle much of this head on, but life circumstances necessitated that I learn to “trust without borders,” to simply believe that God had a plan and walk in that absolute faith. It’s a pretty amazing space to dwell in – and honestly, pretty petrifying at the same time – but I’m so thankful for that experience. To be brought to the end of myself and realize that I will still be sustained is a lesson that I cannot soon forget.

However, as I’ve learned authenticity in other areas of life and have seen how it intersects with my faith, I’ve come to a place this month in which I’ve recognized the need to explore what it is I truly believe. I can no longer say that my faith informs my actions if I cannot clearly articulate what my faith states. And so my journey from last year continues and informs my New Year’s goals for 2014.

My goal for the year began with a plan to dive into the gospels and explore them in depth – spend a whole lot of time with Jesus and learning what it is he really said and did. However, as I’ve been doing some “reading for fun” (a novel notion since graduate school has ended, haha), I’ve encountered a few books that have challenged my faith in some deep and powerful ways. Do I really know what the Bible says or how it calls me to live, particularly as the scriptures relate to social justice? When I learn these things, am I willing to change how I live? What if those closest to me don’t understand or don’t agree – will I still hold true to my convictions?

I’m really looking forward to seeing what this year holds and how my faith is challenged and grown. I know it’s not going to be an easy journey, but I feel more ready than ever for it, and I can’t wait to share what I learn with you! 

Authentic Living: Vocation

Happy New Year my friends! I hope you all are greeting this new year with happiness, healthiness, and excitement for things to come!

It’s been a while since I’ve provided an installment to my “Authentic Living” series: in part due to the seemingly inherent hectic nature of the holidays, and in part because I haven’t quite figured out how to tackle this subject of vocation. But after several days of a lot of quiet time and space for introspection, I feel much more ready to share with you all.

At my undergraduate institution, the word “vocation” was used by faculty and staff until we students were quite nauseated by it. Although as a college student I didn’t fully understand what vocation meant, over the past two years I’ve come to not only understand what vocation is, but also appreciate and embrace the concept and what it means in my life. As I worked my way through graduate school, I imagined myself in my post-graduate life building a career in a non-profit organization that was doing something related to women’s equality, human rights, or some similarly “sexy” work in the NGO world. At the time, my boyfriend was in the army, and I knew that could mean frequent moves in the future, but since there are so many non-profits and I wasn’t too fussy about the type of work I’d be doing, it all seemed like a great plan.

Come late spring of last year though, and within a span of 7 weeks, I was single with my Masters degree in hand. On the one hand, the freedom that gave me felt incredible, and yet at the same time it was a bit terrifying to know that I could really go anywhere I wanted. It wasn’t until June that I absolutely panicked. I was in a meeting with my supervisors when they looked at me and bluntly asked, “What is your dream? What are your goals?” Friends, I have never felt like a deer in headlights more than I did at that moment. In a split second, it occurred to me that I hadn’t been planning my career on my dreams and the talents God has given me. So much of my thoughts had been based on the life I used to know, and with that gone, I had no idea what I really wanted to do. The “world was my oyster,” as they say, and I was terrified. I suddenly found myself in my mid-twenties with two degrees and not a clue what I wanted my long-term career to look like. How did that happen? But more critically, how do I even go about figuring it out?

That same week I went to a film screening of a documentary about an artist who takes her work into broken communities and brings color, life, and healing to people who have experienced so much pain and destruction. I’ve had the privilege of seeing her work in Rwanda, and as I watched the film that evening, there was something in my spirit that quickened. I wasn’t sure if it was the heart of her work, the images and sounds of Rwanda in the film, or something else that caused it, but I felt it so clearly. Whatever was causing that sensation was stirring something at the very core of my being, and I knew it touched on that dream my supervisors had asked me about – whatever it was. After that experience, I started a “Vision Journal” – a simple notebook in which I record organizations, events, projects, etc, that capture my attention, why they interest me, and the steps I’m taking to engage and participate. Instead of just knowing my dream as a feeling inside me, I wanted to find a pattern in what I loved and why.

The result has been beautiful. Granted, not all the opportunities have panned out – at least not yet. Perhaps someday they will. But I’ve begun to think of my career very differently now. It’s no longer a 9-5 job with a clear ladder to climb – it’s something I want my life to be about. And when that shift in perspective happens…oh my goodness. I have been able to make the distinction between my jobs – I have my “pay the bills” job (as I like to call it) and my “vocation” job. I am so blessed to have a full-time job that allows me not only to pay my bills and gain solid work experience (with skills related to my future career!), it also provides me the time and space to do my vocation job, which is perhaps the most wonderful blessing of all. Because of this job, I have been able to participate in extra trainings, travel to Rwanda to continue work on the radio documentary, and I will be starting volunteer work at a peace museum in the coming weeks.

Is my full-time job what I thought I’d be doing 6+ months after graduating? Absolutely not. Do I feel fulfilled in my life’s work right now? More than I can possibly express in this blog post. I have come to a place, and am continuing to move more fully into a space, in which I am discovering life dreams and career goals that feel undeniably authentic to who I am. Who knows, maybe there’s a PhD in my future? ;)