Here's what I love about my major. Okay, here's ONE of the things I love about my major, and the fact that I'm an undergrad at this particular school: We get to go on field trips!!! No, we did not go to the Fire department and get to see how they make the sirens run (rats). Instead we went to Kentucky's second poorest neighborhood and visited a Church Plant that started three years ago and now has about five different ministries (They are able to do these ministries because they are partnering with SEVERAL churches in the area, many of whom are well-established and, if I may say so, rather wealthy or well-off financially).
It was good to get out of the classroom, especially since the last few days I've been going through the "I hate college I just want to be back on the mission field" phase that hits me at least once every semester - usually somewhere around the 1/4 or 3/4 finished semester mark. Figuring out the 'what kind' and 'when to' of adding ministry to my schedule has been challenging my entire college career, and there have been many occasions when I've hit the point where I think, "Oh hang it all. Lord, just have someone ship me these books to wherever I'm at on the field and I'll read them there. I'm done with school. Can You please just drop a plane ticket into my lap please? Like, right now?" At this point I'm not entirely sure where to, just someplace with a poor people group with an interesting language who are overlooked and in need of a vibrant, dramatic, loves-to-teach personality to tell them about Jesus.
But at the end of all my fantastical musings and plotting and ravings, I realize that God has provided the opportunity for me to grow and learn here - and in so many ways not academically - and it would be bad stewardship to toss the opportunity aside. So I heave a heavy sigh and look at how short the summer break is and how few pennies are in my account and pray I'll be able to go on a short term trip and then buckle back down to being a semi-responsible, semi-grown up student and employee.
*snarl*
In other news, I rediscovered frosted shredded wheat cereal tonight. They had boxes on sale at Kroger and for some very odd reason they looked absolutely delicious. So I bought some. And had two bowls for dinner. Don't worry, I had a big lunch. I have been trying to figure out the very delicate balance of eating healthy yet at the same time eating cheaply. Cheap meaning about $80 per month. Hehe. No I have not yet mastered this fine art yet, but am improving. See the thing is that there is a reason why some brands can charge an extra 5 cents to five dollars than the store brand stuff. The reason is quality. Quality means health and happiness and food that actually tastes like food and not mildly flavored cardboard. If absolutely necessary, I can do flavored cardboard. But 'absolutely necessary' only lasts so long before my immune system starts lodging formal complaints and when they go unheeded makes me suffer from a cold for going on a month now.
Therefore, I have discovered that V8 sells a juice/vegetable blend that is delicious and nutritious. Shredded wheat - same thing. I bought a beef roast almost a month ago for $4 that I hack pieces off of (carefully that is) and when eaten with mashed potatoes is great. Also, eating 3 oranges for breakfast is tasty and a heck of a lot better than those nasty store-brand excuses for bagels with cream cheese. Eggs are a lifesaver. I am trying to be more proactive about eating a very very large spinach salad with carrots and other greens when I'm at work so that I get veggies and don't waste the free meal I get every shift I work.
So yeah. The joys of college budgets and eating habits. NOT that you really wanted to know all of that. However, I felt like writing it. And it's my blog. So there.
Fun news about spring break: we are going on a 'mission trip' for class to the suburbs of Chicago to help a church planting team do research on the various people groups living in that area. I've also had to start thinking about summer plans. There's a really cool Missions Camp for girls that I've been looking at for a while, but also a unique opportunity to go to China with a lady who was there for three years and is now going to Seminary. Its possible to fit both of those in, and visit my family back North, however I'll start the fall semester still trying to catch my breath, and thats how I spent last fall semester. In fact, thats how a lot of the Missions Majors started the last fall semester, and we all repeatedly got together and asked each other, ''why did we do this to ourselves again?" And yet, comparing notes about summer plans, I'm pretty sure we'll all end up doing the same thing again. :-)
Okay, well, I need to head back to my apartment and get some laundry done.
~Princess Ouch~
Living day to day trying to keep Christ as the focus
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Friday, February 12, 2010
Praise and worship songs
This is a song I used to sing when I was on the Praise and Worship team at Church. Its one of my favorites. I need to learn how to play it on the piano!! Wish we had had enough people in the P&W team to do the choir piece that is shown in this clip :-)
This second song is one that my friend just sent me. It is really beautiful, and hopefully an encouragement to you as much as it was to me.
I really like this song by Joy Williams. The lyrics have been very encouraging through many times the last few years:
Are you listening
TO anything that I say
'Cause I been praying
How many prayers can I pray
I'm still waiting
Maybe You'll show up today
I know You're here, but I can't feel You
And if You're speaking, I can't hear You
How much londer will this last
Chorus:So okay Answer me with silence
It's okay if You don't say a word
You're testing me to trust You'll be faithful in this quiet
So okay
Answer me
With silence
Why do I question
Your intentions for me
When Your affection
Is a proven legacy
Oh Father, Father
Turn my fears into peace
I know Your love will never leave
I know You want what's best for me
You're testing me to trust You'll be faithful in this quiet
Oh, it's okay
If You answer me with silence
And it's okay if You don't say a word
You're testing me to trust You'll be faithful in this quiet
So okay
Answer me
With silence
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Early Christians and some thoughts.
For my Church History class, I am reading the book Introduction to the History of Christianity edited by Tim Dowley. It's good, but a pretty easy read, with plenty of maps, illustrations, and side-articles to delight my easily-distracted self.
One of the side articles caught my attention because of the beautiful language used to describe Christians in the second century AD. It is anonymously written but addressed to Diognetus. I have no idea who Diognetus is, but regardless, I will share my glee in reading other people's mail and share the excerpt with you:
For Christians are not differentiated from other people by country, language or customs; you see, they do not live in cities of their own, or speak some strange dialect, or have some peculiar lifestyle.
This teaching of theirs has not been contrived by the invention and speculation of inquisitive men; nor are they propagating mere human teaching as some people do. They live in both Greek and foreign cities, wherever chance has put them. They follow local customs in clothing, food and other aspects of life. But at the same time, they demonstrate to us the wonderful and certainly unusual form of their own citizenship.
They live in their own native lands, but as aliens; as citizens, they share all things with others; but like aliens, suffer all things. Every foreign country is to them as their native country, and every native land as a foreign country.
They marry and have children just like everyone else; but they do not kill unwanted babies. They offer a shared table, but not a shared bed. They are at present 'in the flesh' but they do not live 'according to the flesh'. They are passing their days on earth, but are citizens of heaven. They obey the appointed laws, and go beyond the laws in their own lives.
They love everyone, but are persecuted by all. They are unknown and condemned; they are put to death and gain life. They are poor and yet make many rich. They are short of everything and yet have plenty of all things. They are dishonoured and yet gain glory through dishonour.
Their names are blackened and yet they are cleared. They are mocked and bless in return. They are treated outrageously and behave respectfully to others. When they do good, they are punished as evildoers; when punished, they rejoice as if being given new life. They are atacked by Jews as aliens, and are persecuted by Greeks; yet those who hate them cannot give any reason for their hostility.
To put it simply - the soul is to the body as Christians are to the world. The soul is spread through all parts of the body and Christians through all the cities of the world. The soul is in the body but is not of the body; Christians are in the world but not of the world."
I was party to but didn't neccesarily join in a conversation last night with two good friends of mine, both of whom are as much if not more passionate about the Mission Field as I am. All three of us have struggled with 'finding our place' in our own culture. I used to blame it on the fact that I was homeschooled by a strong-willed Christian woman with two Master's degrees (making me an oddity not only in the 'normal' world where people are educated in classrooms by teachers but also in the homeschool communities where most of my peers had parents with considerably less formal education than my parents). However, in my conversation last night, both my friends were educated in public or private schools, and still felt that alienation and sense of odditivity. (no I don't think that's a 'real' word. However, due to my homeschooled education, I know that Teddy Roosevelt made up his own words on a consistent basis. Since it is always wise for us to pattern ourselves after firstly the Bible and secondly the Greats of history, I find no reason why I shouldn't follow suit in making up elegant sounding words).
I was speaking with my very good friend from India a while ago when I was going through a really hard time with my family. She said to me, "You know, I have such compassion on you. For an American to go through such things is a very big trial. In India it is not so much - we are always experiencing persecution and trials. But here it is such an oddity! Therefore, because you are used to comfort, when that is taken away it is an even greater trial for you."
True that, however last night when I looked at the three of us in the conversation, I realized that the three of us aren't 'normal' americans in that we don't shy away from all types of discomfort. In fact, we relish it. Each in our unique way, of course. There are certain types of discomfort that I really really don't like at all that my one friend could care less about and even pursues, and that my third friend is slightly annoyed by but will endure happily to get to her goal. By the same token, there are types of discomfort that I relish and even look for that those two think I'm daft for even thinking. Point being, our culture looks at any of that and says, "Weird."
However, in Asian cultures - people groups that all three of us have had extensive contact with - discomfort is not a bad thing always. In fact, going through discomfort to discipline the body to the soul's bidding is a huge part of many cultures and religions in the Far East. The early Church understood that there was a neccesary amount of discomfort that had to happen for the Good News to be spread so that God's Kingdom could come again. I envy them a lot not because they were so saintly or whatever but because they had seen Jesus face to face. They had a picture in their mind of Heaven that they were willing to struggle, suffer and die for. I don't have a picture in my mind of what Jesus looked like. I didn't see Him feed 5,000 men and their families. I didn't hear His voice when He said "Let the Children come to Me."
But! I do remember hearing His tones when little Marinella asked for the Missionary Silvana to come so that they could sing Praise and Worship songs together. I remember seeing a shadow of His smile when I carried her to the crackling fire where Silvana was sitting as she earnestly shared the Good News with an older Gypsy woman as the little girls and I sang their favorite Gypsy worship song.
In the same way, I think my one friend could see a glimpse of Jesus as he watched a little girl with Cerebriel Palsey beg on a street in an Asian country and prayed for God to give her a family, and wondered if he could be used by the Lord to give her that family.
I think my other friend could get a taste of what it felt like when God said "Let the children come to me" when she held a tiny boy in Haiti a few years ago.
The thing is that to get these experiences, you have to go through times of intense discomfort. And realize that the discomfort you are going through isn't close to what you may go through eventually - what Christians in parts of the globe are going through. Before you even get on the plane God takes you through some kind of sifting time, seeing if you really mean what you say when you tell Him "I will go."
What we call "The Missionary Mindset" is what all Christians possessed in the first days of the Church. It wasn't reserved for some elect group of people with a crazy adventuresome streak and a tendency to hop as easily out of awkward situations as they hopped into them. It was for everyone who dared to claim Christ as his or her savior.
I was talking with another international friend the other day about marriage. She and her almost-fiance both feel a strong pull towards the Mission field, and she and I were talking about timing on "tying the knot." We were discussing not only our own situations but the situations of others we have observed where the couple either waits forr a while - as in years - or where they marry within a matter of months. A rather girly conversation. But she said something that made me pause and think.
"It is good if you know to marry, because why wait? On the other hand, you have to wait. You have to go slow and to see if he can wait for you. Because you have to see what he is made of. What if you are imprisioned for a few years for the Gospel? Is he going to wait for you then? How will you know that you can trust him if you don't see now when you are dating if he will wait?"
We went from a rather typical girly conversation to a sudden uncomfortable truth about the Christian Life in a Pagan World. What if you are imprisioned for your faith and he has to wait for you? Not something that I as an American would neccesarily have to ask myself in this time. However it is something a Ukrainian would definately have to ask herself not too long ago, and is a constant fear for that people that they might have to start asking themselves again as the distrust for Government continues in that culture.
At least half of my closest, best friends are not American. My one friend in the conversation last night goes so far to say that he isn't American but rather a 'hard-boiled egg'; that is, Asian on the inside whilst American caucasian on the outside. My other friend last night consistantly bemoans the fact that she has green eyes and fair skin, when she should have been made with dark skin and black eyes so she could better melt into whatever southern-hemisphere culture she goes into as a missionary.
I asked myself later why I felt so much more at peace with who I was when I was overseas, why I clung to that identity as a Missionary to Romania and kept that as a sort of shield when going into new places, the same way that I would sort of block myself with my identity as a homeschooler before that.
I wonder if it is that the church as a whole - not just in America but in all parts of the world - is buying into the Westernization concepts of comfort and hominess in this temporal world. We no longer know how to be that strange people group that is not defined by ethnicity or anthropological oddities; but rather by the generosity and gracefullness that leaves a good taste in peoples mouths while still offending the part still loyal to Satan in them as they realize that it is Christ in us.
So all that to say, Church, is Wake Up! Re-read the description of us above by an unbeliever, and ask yourself is this how you are being seen? Is this how your church is seen? Is this how we are all seen? I highly doubt it. Well then what do we need to change to become that again? What do we need to do to make non-believers envy us so much that they both love and hate us so passionately? What do we need to do to fulfill our God-given quest to win the lost to Christ and rattle those won over by Satan out of their comfortable complacency?
Just some thoughts.
~Princess Ouch~
One of the side articles caught my attention because of the beautiful language used to describe Christians in the second century AD. It is anonymously written but addressed to Diognetus. I have no idea who Diognetus is, but regardless, I will share my glee in reading other people's mail and share the excerpt with you:
For Christians are not differentiated from other people by country, language or customs; you see, they do not live in cities of their own, or speak some strange dialect, or have some peculiar lifestyle.
This teaching of theirs has not been contrived by the invention and speculation of inquisitive men; nor are they propagating mere human teaching as some people do. They live in both Greek and foreign cities, wherever chance has put them. They follow local customs in clothing, food and other aspects of life. But at the same time, they demonstrate to us the wonderful and certainly unusual form of their own citizenship.
They live in their own native lands, but as aliens; as citizens, they share all things with others; but like aliens, suffer all things. Every foreign country is to them as their native country, and every native land as a foreign country.
They marry and have children just like everyone else; but they do not kill unwanted babies. They offer a shared table, but not a shared bed. They are at present 'in the flesh' but they do not live 'according to the flesh'. They are passing their days on earth, but are citizens of heaven. They obey the appointed laws, and go beyond the laws in their own lives.
They love everyone, but are persecuted by all. They are unknown and condemned; they are put to death and gain life. They are poor and yet make many rich. They are short of everything and yet have plenty of all things. They are dishonoured and yet gain glory through dishonour.
Their names are blackened and yet they are cleared. They are mocked and bless in return. They are treated outrageously and behave respectfully to others. When they do good, they are punished as evildoers; when punished, they rejoice as if being given new life. They are atacked by Jews as aliens, and are persecuted by Greeks; yet those who hate them cannot give any reason for their hostility.
To put it simply - the soul is to the body as Christians are to the world. The soul is spread through all parts of the body and Christians through all the cities of the world. The soul is in the body but is not of the body; Christians are in the world but not of the world."
I was party to but didn't neccesarily join in a conversation last night with two good friends of mine, both of whom are as much if not more passionate about the Mission Field as I am. All three of us have struggled with 'finding our place' in our own culture. I used to blame it on the fact that I was homeschooled by a strong-willed Christian woman with two Master's degrees (making me an oddity not only in the 'normal' world where people are educated in classrooms by teachers but also in the homeschool communities where most of my peers had parents with considerably less formal education than my parents). However, in my conversation last night, both my friends were educated in public or private schools, and still felt that alienation and sense of odditivity. (no I don't think that's a 'real' word. However, due to my homeschooled education, I know that Teddy Roosevelt made up his own words on a consistent basis. Since it is always wise for us to pattern ourselves after firstly the Bible and secondly the Greats of history, I find no reason why I shouldn't follow suit in making up elegant sounding words).
I was speaking with my very good friend from India a while ago when I was going through a really hard time with my family. She said to me, "You know, I have such compassion on you. For an American to go through such things is a very big trial. In India it is not so much - we are always experiencing persecution and trials. But here it is such an oddity! Therefore, because you are used to comfort, when that is taken away it is an even greater trial for you."
True that, however last night when I looked at the three of us in the conversation, I realized that the three of us aren't 'normal' americans in that we don't shy away from all types of discomfort. In fact, we relish it. Each in our unique way, of course. There are certain types of discomfort that I really really don't like at all that my one friend could care less about and even pursues, and that my third friend is slightly annoyed by but will endure happily to get to her goal. By the same token, there are types of discomfort that I relish and even look for that those two think I'm daft for even thinking. Point being, our culture looks at any of that and says, "Weird."
However, in Asian cultures - people groups that all three of us have had extensive contact with - discomfort is not a bad thing always. In fact, going through discomfort to discipline the body to the soul's bidding is a huge part of many cultures and religions in the Far East. The early Church understood that there was a neccesary amount of discomfort that had to happen for the Good News to be spread so that God's Kingdom could come again. I envy them a lot not because they were so saintly or whatever but because they had seen Jesus face to face. They had a picture in their mind of Heaven that they were willing to struggle, suffer and die for. I don't have a picture in my mind of what Jesus looked like. I didn't see Him feed 5,000 men and their families. I didn't hear His voice when He said "Let the Children come to Me."
But! I do remember hearing His tones when little Marinella asked for the Missionary Silvana to come so that they could sing Praise and Worship songs together. I remember seeing a shadow of His smile when I carried her to the crackling fire where Silvana was sitting as she earnestly shared the Good News with an older Gypsy woman as the little girls and I sang their favorite Gypsy worship song.
In the same way, I think my one friend could see a glimpse of Jesus as he watched a little girl with Cerebriel Palsey beg on a street in an Asian country and prayed for God to give her a family, and wondered if he could be used by the Lord to give her that family.
I think my other friend could get a taste of what it felt like when God said "Let the children come to me" when she held a tiny boy in Haiti a few years ago.
The thing is that to get these experiences, you have to go through times of intense discomfort. And realize that the discomfort you are going through isn't close to what you may go through eventually - what Christians in parts of the globe are going through. Before you even get on the plane God takes you through some kind of sifting time, seeing if you really mean what you say when you tell Him "I will go."
What we call "The Missionary Mindset" is what all Christians possessed in the first days of the Church. It wasn't reserved for some elect group of people with a crazy adventuresome streak and a tendency to hop as easily out of awkward situations as they hopped into them. It was for everyone who dared to claim Christ as his or her savior.
I was talking with another international friend the other day about marriage. She and her almost-fiance both feel a strong pull towards the Mission field, and she and I were talking about timing on "tying the knot." We were discussing not only our own situations but the situations of others we have observed where the couple either waits forr a while - as in years - or where they marry within a matter of months. A rather girly conversation. But she said something that made me pause and think.
"It is good if you know to marry, because why wait? On the other hand, you have to wait. You have to go slow and to see if he can wait for you. Because you have to see what he is made of. What if you are imprisioned for a few years for the Gospel? Is he going to wait for you then? How will you know that you can trust him if you don't see now when you are dating if he will wait?"
We went from a rather typical girly conversation to a sudden uncomfortable truth about the Christian Life in a Pagan World. What if you are imprisioned for your faith and he has to wait for you? Not something that I as an American would neccesarily have to ask myself in this time. However it is something a Ukrainian would definately have to ask herself not too long ago, and is a constant fear for that people that they might have to start asking themselves again as the distrust for Government continues in that culture.
At least half of my closest, best friends are not American. My one friend in the conversation last night goes so far to say that he isn't American but rather a 'hard-boiled egg'; that is, Asian on the inside whilst American caucasian on the outside. My other friend last night consistantly bemoans the fact that she has green eyes and fair skin, when she should have been made with dark skin and black eyes so she could better melt into whatever southern-hemisphere culture she goes into as a missionary.
I asked myself later why I felt so much more at peace with who I was when I was overseas, why I clung to that identity as a Missionary to Romania and kept that as a sort of shield when going into new places, the same way that I would sort of block myself with my identity as a homeschooler before that.
I wonder if it is that the church as a whole - not just in America but in all parts of the world - is buying into the Westernization concepts of comfort and hominess in this temporal world. We no longer know how to be that strange people group that is not defined by ethnicity or anthropological oddities; but rather by the generosity and gracefullness that leaves a good taste in peoples mouths while still offending the part still loyal to Satan in them as they realize that it is Christ in us.
So all that to say, Church, is Wake Up! Re-read the description of us above by an unbeliever, and ask yourself is this how you are being seen? Is this how your church is seen? Is this how we are all seen? I highly doubt it. Well then what do we need to change to become that again? What do we need to do to make non-believers envy us so much that they both love and hate us so passionately? What do we need to do to fulfill our God-given quest to win the lost to Christ and rattle those won over by Satan out of their comfortable complacency?
Just some thoughts.
~Princess Ouch~
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