On Christmas Letters and Exam Rules

One of my favourite things about Christmastime is that the mailbox is always full.  Much of the mass is flyers and advertisements for sales that are supposedly once in a lifetime, but there are always some golden cards and letters from old friends, too. 

I especially like people who send Christmas letters.  The Christmas letter from Uncle Doug (author and economics professor at SFU) arrived last weekend, full of satire.  I look forward to receiving Uncle Doug's Christmas letters every year.  He paints his family members as real people and you cannot help but laugh with them when you read about yet another year of incidents each one has gone through.

I also received some letters from faraway friends that made me miss them even more dearly.  I will write back soon, I promise.

Reading the Christmas letters that have arrived in the past couple days has made me think about writing my own letter. I was going to start, but I realized I had nothing very important to say.  I have not had that exciting of a year, but it has been a good one.

One of the most formative experiences of the past year came with an unexpected change in my job.  I am so grateful to God and to my partners in ministry for all the guidance and encouragement they brought me during that time. I was certainly unprepared and unqualified for my role but by some kind of Divine appointment I found myself there. God works to bring us into greater knowledge of His character in unusual ways sometimes. I never expected to find myself in full-time ministry, but that is where I ended up for a season. I can tell you that life in ministry is incredibly challenging. To be honest, there were many days when my mind and spirit felt weary and taxed. But the rewards were unbelievably sweet.

Because of this I have felt so compelled to express thankfulness to all those who minister to me. This Christmas season, I have been especially reminded of how great of a family I have. In particular, I am gaining a deepened sense of respect for my grandparents.  They are legacies in every sense of the word.  They are normal men and women but God has used them--and is clearly continuing to use them--for His glory.

Besides work-related life, most of the past year was consumed by university happenings.  Recently one of my best friends gave me the following four rules for writing final exams:

1.  Wear comfy clothes.
2.  Get enough sleep.
3.  Don't fall in love.
4.  Don't fall out of love.

It is hard not to break the rules sometimes.

I cannot help but marvel at the good things this year has brought despite my ignoble nature.  The past week has served as a reminder of the good: it has been overflowing with family and friends and love.  Yet, on this Christmas night I find myself longing for one thing that is missing.  I made a wish for this thing at 11:11 tonight even though I am a skeptic and do not trust in wishes.  But wishes made at 11:11 on Christmas should count as extra special, right?

I can only hope now that the person to whom my wish was for receives it and understands it.

All the best and all my love,

E

On Old Diaries and Advent

When exam time comes I find myself looking for anything to do that is not studying.  Today I spent some time dusting off my archived diaries and re-reading some of the entries.

I laughed at myself, cried at myself, and scolded myself.  I questioned how I could be so immature and naive.  But I guess that's easy to do because I know the story of how life has worked out for me so far. 

And, while looking back and having my childishness slap me in the face does sting a little bit, I am glad to feel this way.  It means that I have changed: that I am growing up.  It reminds me that life has become richer and deeper and much more wonderful--and that I have become a little more enigmatic.

And that is, in part, why I am still writing things down: that later I may remember clearly and be thankful.  Also, writing is a crucial step for me in processing feeling.  I am terrible at expressing my feelings and I always have been.  I process things in my head and on paper; if I have to express my feelings aloud to someone else without being prepared to do so I am generally anything but eloquent. 

Yet, I have feelings--a lot of them, sometimes.  I cannot help but wonder how life would be different for me if I had said how I felt in certain situations. 

So in this season of advent, I am working on familiarizing myself with the feelings of waiting.  (Advent means "coming."  If Someone is coming, someone must be waiting for them).  In this season particularly, I am waiting.  I know the mechanism of waiting well in my mind: it can be measured in units of time and be described in units of distance.  With each passing moment the amount of time spent waiting becomes longer and the time until the arrival grows nearer. 

In my heart I am allowing myself to connect with the feeling of the greatest gift drawing nearer and nearer to me with each passing sunrise and sunset.  It is a conscious, conspicuous, yet gentle drawing near.  It's amazing to think that over all this time He continues to draw near to me and pursue me.  Advent is not just a symbol that He is coming closer in time, but in space.  This coming toward is deliberate.  That is the best part.

On Quiet and Vanilla Pudding

About a month ago I finished reading Susan Cain's book Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World that Can't Stop Talking.  As an introvert myself, I found Cain's writing to be both encouraging and enlightening.   Cain explores the concept of the "extrovert ideal" throughout Quiet.  Essentially, the "extrovert ideal" is that we (North Americans, particularly) are being raised to believe that it is "good" to be an extrovert and "not-so-good" to be an introvert when in truth, there are advantages and disadvantages to each end of the introversion-extroversion spectrum. 

The "extrovert ideal" has been promoted to me in many instances throughout my life.  Extroverts will get the attention they want.  Extroverts will be more convincing speakers.  Extroverts are more charismatic, magnetic, and charming.  Extroverts are better at expressing their ideas--and therefore have better ideas.

But is any of this true?  I have been interested in the "extrovert ideal" for many years myself, because I think introverts have been undervalued and underutilized in many circles.  Cain speaks about how North American culture has transitioned from cultivating character to promoting personality.  For instance, the self-help books of years past were entitled Character: The Grandest Thing in the World, etc.  Now, self-help books boast titles such as How to Win Friends and Influence People and focus on teaching us how to be more entertaining and dynamic to our peers.

But what about people who desire to improve their relationships, leadership abilities, etc. but do not care to become more entertaining and dynamic to their peers?  Is there room for "highly-sensitive" characters who prefer to be quiet and escape stimulation in a society that favours flashy, "showmanistic," augmented personalities? 

Cain argues that there is, and I agree with her.  I do not think it is right that there is a book that, in part, exists to convince people that it is okay to be an introvert.  But if people are not convinced that it is indeed okay to be introverted, then I am glad this book exists.  Admittedly, I did feel better for being an introvert after completing the book--not because it promotes introversion as better than extroversion, but because it promotes them as equally valid and useful in all spheres.  And because it encourages being proactive in creating quiet space for yourself, if you are the highly-sensitive introverted type.

Speaking of types, I was reminded tonight of another one of my favourite personality psychology reads: Relient K's The Complex Infrastructure Known as the Female Mind.  Actually, calling it personality psychology is probably a stretch, but at its core it is this, in its own light.  It's a witty, insightful analysis of different types of girls...written by some boys.  I like it.  It's simple and somewhat stereotypic, but overall it's laughably accurate. 

In case you are wondering, there are 12 girl "types:" The Athlete, The Rock Chick, The Diva, The Homecoming Queen, The Mathlete, The Overachiever, The Poet, First Chair, The Drama Queen, The Airhead, The Girlfriend, and Vanilla Pudding. 

I am most like Vanilla Pudding:

"She's as sweet as she sounds and just as interesting and fascinating.  She's not as rich as Tiramisu, she's not as tangy as a Lemon Tart, she's not as complicated as White Chocolate Hazelnut Cheesecake, or as exotic as Walnut Baklava.  As far as dessert goes, she's regular Vanilla Pudding...not too crazy and not too bland." (CIFM 89).

Vanilla pudding is mellow, complementary, and average--adjectives that can have a negative connotation in a society that favours the "extrovert ideal," but that are actually quite lovely.  Vanilla pudding is consistent and steady--a canvas waiting to be filled with other flavours and textures and wonderful things.

So cheers to embracing my "blandness:" it is good to be a quiet, happy, introverted bowl of vanilla pudding.

On Autumn and Romance

So, I have been meaning to write some thoughts here for a while--but time has this fiendish way of slipping away on me. Hence, here I am at the end of November.

I have enjoyed this autumn in most regards thus far. Something that has been on my mind throughout the fall is the significance of determining outlets that are life-giving. Asking myself, "will this bring life?" and "will this bring joy?" has, in part, kept me sane in this flurry of work and exams and stress I live in right now. It's been enriching to think about these things because I realize now that there are many things that bring me joy, even though I feel like my life is rather boring at times.

Things like:

-playing the piano (few things bring me more joy than this)

-my 4 year old class that I teach 

-receiving hand written letters from people I love

-running on the track at school

-reading in the bathtub

-learning new words

-learning new things, in general

-the crisp crunch of snow when I walk on it

-all things Brian Regan 

-riding the bus early in the morning

-tomato soup on cold days

And so on. To be truly thankful for these things is a good feeling. I am glad that people are capable of not just being alive, but feeling alive. And of feeling joy.

Also, I find joy in adventure. To me, adventure is the ultimate romance. I do not require dinners or dances or roses to be romanced. I am not longing for a man to shower me in jewelry and chocolates or whatever it is people give as romantic gifts these days. But as much as I hate to admit it, I do want romance, perhaps even as much as the average girl out there.

But I am looking for a redefined romance--for someone to go adventuring with in significant and unimportant things, in the big and small, in the seriousness of the recesses of the heart and in the overflows of laughter of the soul. 

The greatest challenge for me in the matters of romance is cynicism. While my questioning nature lends itself well to my pursuits as a scientist, it is not as supportive to quests of the heart. Yet, I am doing my best at holding out hope for the redefined romance as I wait. If you see it, would you let me know?

On Dust and Dusk and Summer

So here I am, in bed and in tears. But they are the good kind of tears.  I have been praying and asking for something. I have been attempting to listen, but life has been noisy and it has been difficult for me to hear.

I heard a whisper tonight, and that is the reason for my weeping. Here is what I heard: "you are but dust, yet I love you with an everlasting love."

To truly comprehend this statement in my soul overwhelms me. I have stirred up dust many times today; I have trampled it with the tires of my bicycle and dragged it around on the soles of my shoes. Dust is a flaky and dirty nothingness, yet from it I have been created as something with substance. Moreover, I have been formed from nothing to be loved forever by my creator. I should be nothing, but somehow love and holiness and divinity have chosen to make me a something. 

Maybe this does not mean anything to you yet but I hope it does become significant somewhere down the road. You are dust, but you are loved with an everlasting love.

On another note, I have been metaphorically spinning Dashboard Confessional's "Dusk and Summer" all week. I think this album is incredibly well done. I wish I would have begun to listen to it earlier this summer.

On Doing Devotions and Thankfulness

These thoughts were triggered by a friend who asked me, "What is it you do when you do devotions?"
If I had been asked this a few years ago, I may have replied:

Well, I read my Bible, and I pray, and sometimes I write my prayers or thoughts about what God has been teaching me in a journal.

or something along those lines.

This is the general mechanism of doing devotions for most people I know.  We take a few minutes, (maybe in the morning or before bed), read a passage from the Bible, pray, perhaps guided by a lesson of sorts from a daily devotional book. 

I think "devotions" has been prefaced with the incorrect verb--that is, I should not be doing devotions, but being devoted.  How I express my devotion is secondary to whom or what I am devoted to.

Taking the model of "spending time with God" to mean 15 minutes at the close of day is broken to me.  Psalm 1 says:

"Blessed is the one who does not walk in step with the wicked or stand in the way that sinners take or sit in the company of mockers, but whose delight is in the law of the Lord, and who meditates on his law day and night.  That person is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither." 

1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 says, "Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus."

Take note of some of the phrases used in these passages: "day and night", "always", "continually", "in all circumstances".  These acts of studying and meditating on God's word and praying are clearly meant to invade more than a 15 minute window of my day.

Of course, I am not saying that I will never set aside time to read my Bible and pray (i.e. "do" devotions).  But I am reminding myself that my foremost commitment and devotion is to a Person, not to a credo or list of religious "dos" and dont's".

And speaking of remembering, I was recently reminded by a friend that it is remembrance that drives thanksgiving.  Poet Bradley Hathaway's piece Short and Untitled describes a place and way of feeling that most of us have likely felt in our spiritual lives:

"They say that sometimes you are farther than the moon
and sometimes you are closer than my skin.

Indeed
I remember back when you were closer than my skin
Those were the evenings spent alone with you in bliss
Those were the mornings when you awoke me by a gentle kiss

And these are the evenings where I sit alone and wish and reminisce
These are the mornings when I awake to an alarm clock after falling asleep with the hurting thought:
Why have you forsaken me?"

There are times, for whatever reason, where we feel close to God and hear him speaking into our lives and see him leading us.  But there are also other times--dry, frustrating times where we feel depleted and lonely and tired--because we have been trying to find Him but can't, or trying to listen but can't hear over the noise in our souls. 

And it is in these times that we must remember the things God has done in the past--in our lives and in others lives.*  By doing so we can continue to be thankful even in difficult times because we can praise God for who he is, and that his character never changes.

...

*Check out Judges 2 and Psalm 136 to see why this is important.

On Bathtub Sudoku and Days of Solitude

Saturday was a much needed day of nothing.  It was a day of shutting the curtains, sleeping in, and giving my soul a retreat.  I went on a bicycle adventure and took the above panoramic of one of my new favourite spots to ride to.

Have you ever tried to live in complete solitude for a day?  By "solitude" I mean not contacting (that is, not speaking to, emailing, texting, etc.) anyone for a full twenty-four hours.

Needless to say, solitude is difficult.  I am by no means an outgoing person or an extrovert and I still found the seclusion to be onerous.  I am not used to my soul being quiet.  Most people living here probably are not used to their souls being quiet.  However, my experience in solitude was a salubrious one.

Besides doing a lot of bicycling, I have also been playing a lot of bathtub sudoku, which is exactly it sounds like: playing sudoku in the bathtub.  This activity is, perhaps, atypical and peculiar at best, but it is been a considerable source of relaxation for me recently. 

On Ambiguity and Organization

This week has been dragging.  In all aspects, "things" have been quiet, which is simultaneously wonderful and disconcerting.  I am a project oriented person who is running out of well-defined projects to do.  There is much to be done--but I am not sure what it is that really needs my attention and energy.  I am having some dreams about autumn, but the road between "here" and "there" is hazy. 

I am hypothesizing that my subconscious has been prompting me to reorganize my life in order to deal with the polysemous nature of the tasks ahead.  I am not sure if it has helped.  Yet my possessions have been alphabetized and sorted by colour, style, and purpose.  There is something about cleanliness and order that inspires me, but I need to make a mess to feel inspired, too (often to the chagrin of my family).  When I am working on a piece or a paper, or when I am in one of my studying frenzies my things start migrating. 

I think it is good to make a mess of things.  Strangely enough my mind has been taken back to a poem (Spring) by Shelley Leedahl that I studied in highschool:

"I will let them play
chance pneumonia, long hours of laundry
to see their mud-splashed faces.
They dump pailfuls of water,
and watch the new puddles,
squeeze the dark soil
through their fingers

Who am I to tell them
Come out of the garden,
and risk destroying everything
glowing and glorious."

Leedahl is speaking of children playing in a muddy garden in the springtime, but I think these thoughts are equally pertinent to adults.  We should let our souls explore the bespattered and boggy gardens of life.  We should allow ourselves to make a mess of ourselves because glorious things do come out of messes. 

It is good to be clean, but it is also good to be messy.

On Trust

Trust has been, without a doubt, the theme of my life this year.

There have been so many days where I felt like I was fighting not to drown, and some days where I wanted to stop struggling and asphyxiate somewhere underneath the chaos.  My intellect and my soul have been challenged in every possible facet in the past twelve months. 

But I have learned much of myself, and of God.  I have discovered that I am utterly helpless--in the best possible way.  I have been stretched; or maybe more suitably, molded, or fashioned in unexpected ways this year.  I have been pushed to the brink and have had no choice but to let go--free fall and trust there will be divine arms to catch me.

God has met me in chaos when I did not deserve it.  I cannot tell you how amazing and wonderful that is.  Even within the last seven days I have witnessed El Roi at work in my life--the God who sees me.

The God who sees me.

One of the consequences of beginning to trust more is that you realize that you have so much more to give up, to entrust to God.  You realize that taking control means giving up control.

I have found that my feelings regarding trust are well summarized by Osawld Chambers.  Interestingly he does not mention the word trust in this passage, but his words certainly resonate with what I am feeling and learning:

"Loyalty to Jesus means I have to step out where I do not see anything; loyalty to myself means that I clear the ground first by my intelligence.  Faith is not intelligent understanding, faith is a deliberate commitment to a Person where I see no way."

Normally I discuss at least two topics in a post, but nothing is more important to me than trust right now.  Nothing even comes close.

On Resting and Fighting

Much time has gone by since my last post and I am having a difficult time determining where all the days have gone. Life has been very full. A few days ago I did a breakdown of my typical week. Below is what I determined:

Hours in class: 32
Hours studying/doing school related work: 40
Hours at work: 12
Hours volunteering: 3
Hours sleeping: 56
Transportation: 5
Hours at the gym: 5
Total hours consumed: 153.

Total hours in a week: 24 x 7 = 168

This means I have 15 hours a week, or about 2 hours/day for "free" time, which seems fairly reasonable. However, a good portion of this time is spent on basic things like eating so in reality I probably have about 30 minutes of free time a day.

Needless to say it has been incredible to have a two week vacation from school and be able to rest. I've read 5 novels and have even slept in once or twice.

From one busy person to another: be deliberate in resting. Plan your breaks and time to rest first and do not compromise. Be selfish for those 30 or 60 or however many minutes you have a day. It is important.

Strangely enough I felt challenged to be more deliberate in resting because of something I studied in my physiology class. "A muscle will develop its maximum force when starting from resting length." I think the mind and spirit work like muscles do. I can develop maximum impact in school, ministry, my relationships, etc. when I am in a place of rest. If I am hyperextended I may be able to create impact for a short period of time but soon become fatigued. Conversely, if I do not challenge myself, my mind and spirit will atrophy. I will become weak and will not be able to create the impact I want to.

"A muscle will develop its maximum force when starting from resting length." So it is with my soul when I rest with You.

One of my favourite teachers told me once (regarding Hebrews 4) that "the fight is to remain in the rest." I've posted a portion from the passage below:

God's promise of enjoying his rest still stands. So be careful that none of you fails to receive it.

The good news was preached to our people long ago. It has also been preached to us. The message they heard didn't have any value for them. They didn't combine it with faith. Now we who have believed enjoy that rest.

God said, "When I was angry I took an oath. I said, 'They will never enjoy the rest I planned for them.' " —(Psalm 95:11) Ever since God created the world, his work has been finished. Somewhere he spoke about the seventh day. He said, "On the seventh day God rested from all his work."—(Genesis 2:2)

In the part of Scripture I talked about earlier God said, "They will never enjoy the rest I planned for them."—(Psalm 95:11)

It is still true that some will enjoy that rest. But those who had the good news preached to them earlier didn't go in. That was because they didn't obey.

So God again chose a certain day. He named it Today. He did that when he spoke through David a long time later. As it was said earlier, "Listen to his voice today. If you hear it, don't be stubborn." —(Psalm 95:7,8)

Suppose Joshua had given them rest. If he had, God would not have spoken later about another day. So there is still a Sabbath rest for God's people.

God rested from his work. Those who enjoy God's rest also rest from their work. So let us make every effort to enjoy that rest. Then no one will fall into sin by following the example of those who didn't obey God.

The word of God is living and active. It is sharper than any sword that has two edges. It cuts deep enough to separate soul from spirit. It can separate joints from bones. It judges the thoughts and purposes of the heart. Nothing God created is hidden from him. His eyes see everything. He will hold us accountable for everything we do.

...

The fight is to remain in the rest.