friday i am going to go wedding dress shopping for the first time in my life. my mom is going to make appointments at various shops in the bay area and we'll go....play dress up. at least that's how it will feel, i'm sure.
amidst the fairly superficial wedding planning, i have thought a lot (and yet nearly not enough) about what marriage means to me now (an inexperienced soon-to-be bride) and what it will mean to me later (an older veteran to this lifetime partnership). i am not really a romantic person (even though i will only watch romantic comedies). no, not in the traditional sense at least. i do not really like nice jewelry, or fancy flowers around every corner, or candlelit dinners. i much rather enjoy discussing interesting things, or snuggling, or cooking together, or goofing around. this all leads me to my idea that marriage is not romantic. i think marriage is a lot of work. it is like building a huge, never ending structure or something. a structure that might even have to be torn down and rebuilt over and over as people (and the relationship) changes. i also believe that marriage is about service. it is about serving an individual (dying to oneself) every single day of one's life. it is about being joyful in that service (this might be the most difficult part) for the rest of your life. it is not about giving 50% and getting 50%, in fact i don't think it can be quantified in any percentage breakdown. it seems dangerous as it sets up all kins of expectations - even if you end up giving 60%, you still expect to receive 40%. but i am hopeful about marriage. i am hopeful because i believe that God is constantly working and moving and challenging two individuals in a shared life. with God as the foundation. so regardless of how many times the house needs to be rebuilt, the foundation is always the same.
i also think that God had some say (or most of the say) in how it is that i met peter. that he brought me to a place where i had a choice to take what God was offering me, or reject it. and i decided to take it in a way that i am not doing a good job of explaining. there is something deeply moving about the way in which two people come together that i believe has divine intervention. do i believe that there is only one person for us in the world? no. but that God saw where we were at in our lives and brought us to a place of willingness to give one to the other...that i believe. had i not felt that God moved me to pursue a relationship with peter, or had i missed God's intentions and not chosen to pursue peter, then i believe that God would have provided someone else in my life in a different circumstance and for different reasons.
basically what i'm saying is, marriage is God. it is a reflection of our relationship with him on some level. and it deserves the same work and love and prayer that we put into maintaining our relationships with God. and that i am hopeful and faithful about how marriage could radically change me and my life for the better.
ask me in about 10 years if i still think the same way. i certainly hope so.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Monday, September 22, 2008
what if we
i spent a lot of time yesterday looking for new music. in the midst of this search, i stumbled upon a new album called, "what if we." it made me long for this church that i used to go to, where the words that were spoken at every meeting were, "what would it look like if..." this concept of living out the love of christ. what would it look like? what would that mean? how would it change...everything? it was a powerful question that continues to challenge me at different moments in my life.
i've spent a lot of time these past two weeks being lonely. or irritable. or bitter. there has been a lot of angst around friends staying in touch and petty bickering about who is trying harder to make those relationships work. what would it look like if i just loved them, simply, where they are at, not who i want them to be? gave up my own sadness and hurt and need to be genuinely caring and compassionate to people who mean so much to me? it's a difficult place to be, especially for someone like myself who is stubborn, and self-righteous much of the time.
in order to help me along my way in this desire to really truly love people (to be on good terms, to not hold grudges, to not talk negatively about) i have some mantras. "do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider other better than yourselves" philippians 2:3. this one sits in a "verse-a-day" envelope on the wall above my desk that cassie made for me long ago. i refuse to change the index card to the next verse because this one speaks to me so strongly i like having the physical reminder of it. my other mantras include, "seven times seventy" in reference to the verse about forgiving people not seven times, but seven times seventy times. i think that's how it goes. it's really hard to forgive someone of the same hurt multiple times. but i am trying. i definitely don't succeed very often, but i keep on trying. and the last one is one of my favorites (of course it's from some chain email), "be kinder than necessary, for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle." this really gets me through moments when i am judging other people or when i think really bad thoughts about someone. it gives me a moment to recognize them as human beings with their own struggles and difficulties. no one is perfect. even those people who i see as having all their stuff together - even they are not perfect and are dealing with their own inner battles. it helps me to love them better.
peter and i always talk in buber language when we are discussing our relationship or the relationship we have with others. buber is brilliant and should be read at some point in everyone's life, even if it is just his wikipedia page. but this main concept of "i-thou" has been pivotal in how i think about relationships to the people i love, the people i don't, the people i don't know, God, and the world at large. it is this concept of not objectifying the person, not making your relationship with them an "i-it" relationship. not making that person an "other" without feelings, cares, or soul. it is when we see people for who they are, rather than who we think they are that we are making the relationship, "i-thou." for me and peter it goes something like this, usually post-tiff: "i wasn't able to i-thou you then. i'm sorry." it is a very powerful concept that has also been something i have included in my running thoughts.
i expect change to occur in my life. i believe it can happen. i know i will not succeed. it is living with this constant failure to make people "thous" instead of "its" that makes me understand how much i need grace. and how if i can so easily fall short of what jesus asks me to do (love people) and how much forgiveness he is capable of, then there is no reason i cannot do the same for others.
what if we...
it's a very powerful thing indeed.
i've spent a lot of time these past two weeks being lonely. or irritable. or bitter. there has been a lot of angst around friends staying in touch and petty bickering about who is trying harder to make those relationships work. what would it look like if i just loved them, simply, where they are at, not who i want them to be? gave up my own sadness and hurt and need to be genuinely caring and compassionate to people who mean so much to me? it's a difficult place to be, especially for someone like myself who is stubborn, and self-righteous much of the time.
in order to help me along my way in this desire to really truly love people (to be on good terms, to not hold grudges, to not talk negatively about) i have some mantras. "do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider other better than yourselves" philippians 2:3. this one sits in a "verse-a-day" envelope on the wall above my desk that cassie made for me long ago. i refuse to change the index card to the next verse because this one speaks to me so strongly i like having the physical reminder of it. my other mantras include, "seven times seventy" in reference to the verse about forgiving people not seven times, but seven times seventy times. i think that's how it goes. it's really hard to forgive someone of the same hurt multiple times. but i am trying. i definitely don't succeed very often, but i keep on trying. and the last one is one of my favorites (of course it's from some chain email), "be kinder than necessary, for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle." this really gets me through moments when i am judging other people or when i think really bad thoughts about someone. it gives me a moment to recognize them as human beings with their own struggles and difficulties. no one is perfect. even those people who i see as having all their stuff together - even they are not perfect and are dealing with their own inner battles. it helps me to love them better.
peter and i always talk in buber language when we are discussing our relationship or the relationship we have with others. buber is brilliant and should be read at some point in everyone's life, even if it is just his wikipedia page. but this main concept of "i-thou" has been pivotal in how i think about relationships to the people i love, the people i don't, the people i don't know, God, and the world at large. it is this concept of not objectifying the person, not making your relationship with them an "i-it" relationship. not making that person an "other" without feelings, cares, or soul. it is when we see people for who they are, rather than who we think they are that we are making the relationship, "i-thou." for me and peter it goes something like this, usually post-tiff: "i wasn't able to i-thou you then. i'm sorry." it is a very powerful concept that has also been something i have included in my running thoughts.
i expect change to occur in my life. i believe it can happen. i know i will not succeed. it is living with this constant failure to make people "thous" instead of "its" that makes me understand how much i need grace. and how if i can so easily fall short of what jesus asks me to do (love people) and how much forgiveness he is capable of, then there is no reason i cannot do the same for others.
what if we...
it's a very powerful thing indeed.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
dinner: european style
living at home after six years on your own is a challenging experience. don't get me wrong, i'm extremely grateful for the free housing and food - it's very generous of my parents to take me back in and provide for me in this way.
and yet...it's like dealing with the most difficult kind of roommates possible. there are rules. there are obligations. there are complicated emotions. no longer can you eat a healthy, normal meal at a reasonable hour. you are obligated to eat dinner after 9pm, with family. no longer can you hide in your room and do schoolwork or talk on the phone. you are required to visit with family friends, grandparents, neighbors who come by. no longer can you be truthful (even lovingly) with those around you. you are bound to stepping on egg shells so as not to trigger an overworked father, or send your on-the-edge mother into a fit of weeping.
it can get tense. and stressful. and people don't really understand.
but in spite of it all, i am thankful for the opportunity to learn again and again how to love my parents in this new and very different way. i am thankful for the opportunity (albeit very trying at times) to be patient with them and recognize my own faults and shortcomings. as this wedding approaches, it will be for me a very significant change in my life. not that it isn't for most people, but because i will leave my parents' house and live with my husband. the separation will not only be figurative, but literal as well. so i continually remind myself of this fact - that i need to love them now and be present with them now because this time will most likely will not come again in such a context.
and yet...it's like dealing with the most difficult kind of roommates possible. there are rules. there are obligations. there are complicated emotions. no longer can you eat a healthy, normal meal at a reasonable hour. you are obligated to eat dinner after 9pm, with family. no longer can you hide in your room and do schoolwork or talk on the phone. you are required to visit with family friends, grandparents, neighbors who come by. no longer can you be truthful (even lovingly) with those around you. you are bound to stepping on egg shells so as not to trigger an overworked father, or send your on-the-edge mother into a fit of weeping.
it can get tense. and stressful. and people don't really understand.
but in spite of it all, i am thankful for the opportunity to learn again and again how to love my parents in this new and very different way. i am thankful for the opportunity (albeit very trying at times) to be patient with them and recognize my own faults and shortcomings. as this wedding approaches, it will be for me a very significant change in my life. not that it isn't for most people, but because i will leave my parents' house and live with my husband. the separation will not only be figurative, but literal as well. so i continually remind myself of this fact - that i need to love them now and be present with them now because this time will most likely will not come again in such a context.
Monday, September 8, 2008
on faith
i don't like school. in fact, i loathe it. yes, i am in a 5 year phd program. yes, i just started year 2 of 5. but i really really can't stand school anymore. i'm not sure i ever could. i keep on going back to this question of "what really matters?" does it matter that i am stuck in a classroom all day discussing my "productivity" on my master's thesis and how i should be working more on it, because it is supremely important that i finish it fast and that it is good? does it matter that i know how to determine how many standard deviations away someone's IQ score is from normal?
i don't really know.
what i do know is the way i feel alive when i arrive at my practicum site, knowing i'll get to see "my kids" as i like to call them, knowing i might get one small chance to connect with one of them and that one peek into their lives makes my whole day worthwhile. it is there where i want to learn how to be a good therapist. so i begin to doubt this whole concept of academia. of following other people's rules, and not my own understanding and God's insight.
i've been reading this book alex gave me called "redeeming love," and it really has been challenging me and reminding me of God's love. i have fantasies of abandoning ship and committing my life to serving people. perhaps then i will feel right and content. peter made the good point, though, of being content and faithful in any and every situation we find ourselves. perhaps God wants me to be a light in this moment, even though it is so difficult to be a light when these people only want to see dark. and the goals for this academic life are how much you can publish, whose butt you can kiss, and how many classes you can take. it's demoralizing. it's demoralizing just to play their game. i'm trying to be faithful, so sit quietly with God trusting He will give me insight, or peace, or direction. is this desire to quit my own insecurities and disgust with this way of life, or is it truly from God, telling me to spend my time elsewhere? and if it is the latter, how will i deal with the larger sin of pride and failure if i were to leave the program after the first year?
and he calls us to love. in the meantime, this is my most important task.
i don't really know.
what i do know is the way i feel alive when i arrive at my practicum site, knowing i'll get to see "my kids" as i like to call them, knowing i might get one small chance to connect with one of them and that one peek into their lives makes my whole day worthwhile. it is there where i want to learn how to be a good therapist. so i begin to doubt this whole concept of academia. of following other people's rules, and not my own understanding and God's insight.
i've been reading this book alex gave me called "redeeming love," and it really has been challenging me and reminding me of God's love. i have fantasies of abandoning ship and committing my life to serving people. perhaps then i will feel right and content. peter made the good point, though, of being content and faithful in any and every situation we find ourselves. perhaps God wants me to be a light in this moment, even though it is so difficult to be a light when these people only want to see dark. and the goals for this academic life are how much you can publish, whose butt you can kiss, and how many classes you can take. it's demoralizing. it's demoralizing just to play their game. i'm trying to be faithful, so sit quietly with God trusting He will give me insight, or peace, or direction. is this desire to quit my own insecurities and disgust with this way of life, or is it truly from God, telling me to spend my time elsewhere? and if it is the latter, how will i deal with the larger sin of pride and failure if i were to leave the program after the first year?
and he calls us to love. in the meantime, this is my most important task.
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