Go Home

Once upon a time I went to church and they told the story of the prodigal son.

Which I have heard over and over and over, but I needed to hear once again.

And I heard there how he had run, and he had ended up with the pigs. Actual pigs. Living with them, wanting to eat what they ate because he was starving. 

And I looked at my life and I saw that I was there, with the pigs. That I had traded my values and all my self-worth for a false sense of security. I was in search of someone to want me enough to take care of me. Because I thought God had neglected me and I needed worth somewhere else. But I was sick of being with the pigs. I was tired of being cared about for all the wrong reasons. I was exhausted from the games and the emptiness and from hating life and from pretending I was okay, and that I was surviving.

So I got up.

And I’ve been walking ever since, trying to find my way back home.

And the shame and the guilt that has occupied my life, is starting to fade. Because I think I have finally realized that God does not just love me now, God loved me then. When I was still wallowing in the mud with pigs. God loved me at my very lowest, and I know how low my lowest was. And I hated myself there, but He still loved me, and others hated me there, but He still loved me.

Why I must leave you.

Leaving is the better choice.
A plane ride, a car trip
A new adventure

Staying is silence.
Empty places, empty moments
Empty memories

When I go, I'll shed some tears.
I'll miss the adventures,
I'll miss your laugh.
But I'll be gone.

I won't have to see the places
Where we ate together
And talked together
And lived together.

I won't have to remember everyday
What it feels like
With this space filled
By your presence.

Instead,
I will go forward.
To a new place,
Building a new life.

And I will fill the empty
With all things new.
This is why you can't leave me.
This is why I must leave you.

Why I Needed California

EDIT: I feel I should specify: most of these things were true of the San Diego area. I cannot vouch for any ideas or activities in other parts of the state.

Near the end of my senior year of college, I began searching for where I should head next. Like a large portion of my graduating class, I didn't have a job lined up and I could head, well, anywhere. When I first started thinking about coming out to California, I heard a loud resounding descent. Supposedly I was going to hate living out in Cali. It is the kind of place that is better in the imagination. But with encouragement from a few important people, I decided to try it out. I don’t want to live out here forever, especially not in the hot desert of Riverside. But I am extremely grateful that I moved here. These are my reasons:

1.  I needed warm weather. I was young and single and freezing in long Indiana winters. I needed some warmth. (For more on where to live in certain stages of life: http://nthculture.blogspot.com/2013/09/where-to-move.html) 
   
   
   
2. California is by far the most outgoing place I have ever been. Everyone talks to you, everyone becomes friends with you. Not in the deep life-long friend way, only two of my friends from California came to my wedding, but in the fun, un-exclusive way of community. I could meet someone one weekend, and be invited to their birthday party the next. Everyone was included, everyone was invited. It was so refreshing.
   
3. This hill behind my grandparents house in Alpine is one of the best places to feel at peace, and to have a small piece of home:
   
   
   
4. You can wear whatever you want out here. No one looks twice at the kid with the helmet covered in cloth spikes walking around the mall, no one wonders about the girl with five facial piercings, and no one cares if you are just wearing jeans. I could wear thigh high boots without judgment, I could wear heels with shorts, and I could ignore brushing my hair for three days and just pull it back. It’s also the first place I lived where no one asked me why I didn't wear makeup. There’s a large amount of freedom when people accept you no matter what you look like.
   
   
5.  Instead of being on the liberal end of the scale as I was in Indiana, I was pretty conservative. I was not the most ‘out there’ person. My opinions were somewhat normal for this area of the country. The people that disagreed with me did it inquisitively, not with judgment.
   
6. I got married. I can’t recommend you move out to California just to find (or in my case re-find) the love of your life, but it worked out nicely for me. It helped that I had a slight plan to be persistently patient. It has been the best blessing of my time here. Although, there is quite a large array of people here so meeting the love of your life isn't all that unlikely.
   

California, I will always love the time I spent here. Thank you for your sunshine, oceans, and most of all, people. 

Thanksgiving

4 Hours of cooking with these boys:

Deep Fried Sriracha Turkey:

Nothing got lit on fire:

Our turkey was mad delicious looking:

Starting the carving process:

Just SO much food: (Not pictured pie, Matthew, and Rob)

Followed by hours of Settlers and watching The League.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Cling

I found myself looking at the waves and the wind instead of at Jesus in the boat. 

And I realized I was sinking, sinking into the dark empty nothingness. So I grabbed on to the tiny rafts that floated by. I clung on to find some safety. Safety in the others clinging on with me. "I can help you!" they said and grasped at my hands. I held on because they were a danger I could see and know, and what swam beneath me was a danger unknown, a darkness unfathomable. So I would float with first one, and then when I knew they could no longer help me, I swam to another one, and another, until I found someone who could tackle all the other rafts out at sea. Someone big enough to fight all the others away, big enough to keep my feet dry. 

But no one was big enough to cover my own darkness. 

And I realized what was swimming beneath was the depths of my dark and empty soul. The darkness of those around me was nothing compared to what circled, grasping at my feet, wrapping itself around my ankles. It was not the fear or horror of the evil around me. It was the fear and horror of what churned inside me.

In my fear I forgot that my options are never just two. The choice is not to either sink in the depths or cling to drifting logs tied with string, the choice should always be one. To stand in the waves and look up at the face of Jesus and have Him rescue me.

Because I want so badly to believe that I can accomplish life on my own. But on my own I always will sink. And I can cling to those drowning with me or I can cling to true life. So I looked up expecting the emptiness that I had always seen around me. Expecting Jesus to be gone in His boat, off to save someone worthy of saving as I had discovered I was not. But when I looked up I realized He had been there the whole time.

Saying to me "Why do you doubt?" And my heart finally began to believe what I had known in my head all along: that He loves me now. Not tomorrow, not after I stop making a mess, not when I realize that I am a mess. Now. And yesterday, and the day before, and all those years of clinging to the lives of others. He loved me, He loves me. And the waves don't seem so big, the wind doesn't howl so strong, if I cling to Him. I am not so cold, and I am not alone, if I cling to Him. So that is who I will cling to, the only thing that will not fail, when all else around me does. 

I will cling to Him.

Scared 6th Grader

Inside me lives a scared sixth grader.

Once upon a time in sixth grade a girl named Sabrina had to leave in the middle of the year. This was not uncommon, in first grade our teacher unexpectedly left in the middle of the year and in every year someone left and someone new came. Our classes were small and I knew Sabrina pretty well; she was amazingly nice and soft spoken and seemed more mature than the rest of us. Even though I knew her, we weren't best friends, and we never saw each other outside of school.
But when she announced she was leaving, I unraveled.
Not just normal tears, but a continual aching sob. It was the middle of a school day and I was back in the bathroom at the end of our class sobbing. I couldn't stop. I couldn't breathe. I was hyperventilating, over heating, having a full meltdown. I was crying so much that my teacher, who was sweet and calm and put up with a lot of crazy things from a bunch of multicultural sixth graders, came back and told me I had to shut up and get it together.

The closest I had come to being that sad was when I left America to go back home to Taiwan after a year of fourth grade in the states. A classmate showed up at my house, once again a girl who was nice, but I wasn't that close with, with a little glass dog to give me as a parting gift. I still have the dog. And we cried on the front lawn while our mothers waited. But even that time, it wasn't that bad, I eventually stopped crying.

In sixth grade I couldn't stop. All the grief of years past, filled with the knowledge that it wasn't going end just overwhelmed me.

I had never cried that hard before, and I never have again, but every time someone leaves that scared sixth grader begins to creep up. When I stand in an airport with all that I own in suitcases, that little girl lurches inside. Because inside is all that grief, all that loss, that I thought was normal, that I thought all people constantly dealt with, piled up inside me. And when the loss of a best friend in third grade fades away, the loss of a best friend in seventh grade happens, and when that begins to fade, the loss of my school, my home, my culture, my security happens. And once again, the grief remains inside of a shaking sixth grader hiding in the bathroom.

I want the Weather, but I hate the Weather

I'm sick of California because it's always 80 degrees and sunny. But if I lived in Indiana I'd be sick of it because it's freezing, always freezing. So maybe I'm just constantly un-content. 

It's a struggle to stay in one place. When people say they never want to move, I start feeling claustrophobic for them. I don't want to live anywhere for more than two years. I'm addicted to change. I want my hair long and short and five different colors, I want enough shoes to wear a different one to suit every mood, I want to stay home and go out at the same time, I want to live here, and not here. For some reason I thought it was college restlessness, but it turns out it's just life restlessness. Maybe I'm just not where I'm supposed to be, but I'm starting to believe that there is no where I'm supposed to be. I miss too many places. I want too many things. I've lost too many alternate lives. I have too many paths to take. And so all I want is change.

(I really hope my future boss isn't reading this, I'm reliable I promise)

Dear Jars of Clay,

I grew up on your music. Jars of Clay was on repeat until every line was memorized by the whole family. We'd have multiple CDs of yours in our car on road-trips, and every time a new album came out we played it over and over.

I wanted you to know that your lyrics have had such a powerful influence on my life. Being raised a missionary kid in Taiwan, I was never short of "churchisms" and right answers. Your music touched me because it asked the questions I asked. Maybe that is what is so powerful about what you do. You are not afraid to say you're broken and afraid and lost. You are not afraid to ask why.

When I was younger I thought when I grew up I'd understand. I still don't. And before I was married, I thought I would no longer be afraid. I am still afraid. But your music has given me the freedom to admit that. To admit that I am broken and afraid and lost.

I'm sure neither of us actually have answers, but hope does not reside in answers. Hope resides in love and acceptance and being able to admit the truth. Our honest questions are what brings the light.

Thank you. Never stop asking, never stop breaking, never stop hoping.

Part I. Loss

We all lose our innocence in different ways, at different times, in different amounts. It comes with a shocking realization that the world is darker than we once imagined. There was always a knowledge that the world was bad, but now the world is personally bad. We start to see that sometimes good fails, sometimes evil wins out. The loss is gradual for most of life: the moment we realize grown-ups lie, the moment our friends stab us in the back for the first time, the moment we debate over lying to spare feelings or being honest and causing pain. But real loss comes in large moments filled with pain and grief and humiliation. We begin to see darkness all around. The goodness has turned to vapor, it seems to evaporate. What is not realized till later is that we have also awakened part of ourselves. We now see our darkness in a new dimension. We are aware of our emptiness and lack of light. In this realization there is panic, confusion, and a choice.

A Biblical Rant

While there are many misused verses that could be in this rant, I’m sticking to two of them that never cease to bother me. And while I’m all about metaphorical meanings, I think these verses are fairly straightforward and constantly misused to promote a “prosperity” gospel and degrade the suffering of others.

1. A classic: Jeremiah 29:11 “’For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

This is a favorite verse of oh so many people I know. And it’s nice; it really is a nice verse. The thought that God has a plan for us, a plan that will help us prosper and give us hope, is comforting. But I just want to do a quick contextual view of this verse. First of all, this is a letter to the exiles. These people had been taken from their homeland by Nebuchadnezzar and forced to move into Babylon. A massive forced relocation (a look into history will show you how much people love forced relocation). Then the Lord tells them to essentially settle there, have children and seek peace for a city that forcefully kidnapped them. Good thing we know that verse about hope and futures is coming up because this is sounding like a bummer. Verse ten is my personal favorite, “This is what the Lord says: ‘When seventy years are completed for Babylon, I will come to you and fulfill my good promise to bring you back to this place.’” SEVENTY YEARS! That is a long time. That is an age of children and grandchildren and probably great grandchildren before this prosperity and hope! So is God’s promise faulty? Is it some sort of trap? Of course not! In the verses after God talks about how if they seek Him they will find Him, how He will lead them back home. This is a beautiful passage of hope and redemption for a people who have strayed so very far away. What this passage is not is a key that we will have perfect homes, perfect loves, perfect jobs, and perfect lives. This passage does not imply that God will give us money or security or easy living circumstances. Even if we take this passage out of the clear context that it is for the Israelites and try to find a personal application, it is very apparent that a hope and a future may mean living where we don’t want to live, as outsiders and outcasts for the majority of our lives. It may mean circumstances that seem to be the opposite of prosperity, that seem hopeless. This verse isn't about our individual prosperity, it’s about God’s kingdom of prosperity.

2. My personal annoyance: Romans 8:28 “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.”

This seems to be the poster verse of what to say to someone who is suffering. Wait, back up, the first part of this verse seems to be the poster verse to quip at someone who is suffering. The amount of times I have personally heard, “Well you know ‘all things work together for the good.’” is enough to establish a solid annoyance, but the stories of those I have met dealing with immeasurable suffering, who have had this thrown at them, makes my blood boil. Suffering is a hard one, especially when we've been raised in the church, knowing all the “right” answers to the “Why does God allow bad things to happen” question. But practically, let me tell you, it’s not helpful. A family who has lost a child does not need to hear “all things work together for the good.” A victim of abuse or rape does not need to hear “all things work together for the good”. It’s unacceptable when those of us who are supposed to be filled with the largest portion of compassion and love resort to pet answers, not to mention neglecting what surrounds this verse. In the verses directly before, Paul states that the Spirit steps forward in our weakness. The Spirit speaks forward for us when we do not even know what to pray. When faced with suffering of others, I hope remember that. When we don’t know what to say, it’s time to let the Spirit talk. The verses after are the ones thrown into many predestination debates: God foreknew and also predestined and also called and also justified and also glorified. God does a lot of things in this passage. But what is this good that all things work together for? This is not an earthly “good”. All these things that work together are not for our gain. Once again our perspective of how things work together for good is not quite aligned with God’s plan. A plan for redemption. A plan for salvation, (possibly that plan for a hope and a future?). God is not promising that your suffering will go away, or that your life will be joyful because of it. He is telling us there is something more; there is an eternal answer to our suffering.

Essentially what I’m saying is that I hope we can see beyond ourselves, beyond our hopes and our dreams and realize what this is really about. It is about the glorification of God, it is about the redemption and eternal life He has given us. It isn't about our comfort or our prosperity or even our individual futures. I vote we look deeper into our pet verses and favorite simple answers and maybe we’ll find an eternal depth that has been masked all along by our pettiness.

Feel free to fully disagree with me, or let me know what misrepresented verses frustrate you.

Insomnia

My insomnia has been getting progressively worse. It has now gotten to the point where I sleep for one night and stay awake for three. While I was hoping I could find a way to make my insomnia productive, instead I have become increasingly unproductive; in a jet-lagged, half-conscious, dizzy state for days. My psychology knowledge is rolling around in my brain. My constant need to know why is pulling me further into sleeplessness. So I’m coming up with theories and solutions, if you have any better ideas, let me know.

1. Unknown transition stress: Since I've been married for less than two months, and everyone keeps telling me that marriage is stressful. They say the first year of marriage is the hardest. Countless articles and stories from friends say that the first year is miserable. I personally don’t feel miserable about my marriage. My husband is the greatest thing to have around. Yes, occasionally we fight and yes, occasionally, he drives me nuts. But overall we’re pretty happy. But in the case that I am secretly in denial, I’m focusing on having a realistic view of my life.

2. I’m jobless and my future is dependent on online classes. I am purposeless, with a lack of guidance on how I’m going to go about achieving goals that are too lofty to fully pursue at this point. As someone who is comfortable moving every year, and someone who wants to live everywhere, I am use to a feeling of uncertainty, but for some reason I am desperate for a five year plan. I want to know where I’ll be in a year, and in five years. I know five years isn’t exactly long-term, but it feels long term enough to comfort me. Also no amount of quoting Jeremiah 29:11, Proverbs 3:6, or Proverbs 19:9 is going to make me feel better (stay tuned for a rant on Biblical catch phrases, coming soon). The problem is, fixing this one takes time, so if this is what is causing my insomnia, I have a long haul ahead of me.

3. As an extrovert, I need some people interaction. And as lovely as my husband is, I need more people. Living in Riverside, I am over an hour from any real friends. My husband’s friends are here, but that’s slightly unhelpful. The longer I go without people interaction and the longer I go without sleep the more intense my desire to drive to the ocean at 3:00am and make some new friends. Not a wise choice. If this is indeed my insomnia problem, then I need some friends. So if you’re reading this in the Riverside area and you want a new bff, I’m your girl.

I know, not the most intellectual post, but going on three days without sleep, it’s all I have for you. Sleeping tips anyone?

Country of Confidence

I once told my counselor that going to Taiwan to find a job was the easiest thing I could think of. He looked at me like I was crazy; how could traveling halfway around the world to a country where I only slightly speak the language be easier?

America is terrifying. Is it just me or does it seem like everyone here knows what they’re doing? It’s like an entire country only filled with confident people. I know that this can’t possibly be true, but it is how America feels to me. I am insecure in every aspect here. Even after five years I am just waiting to do something stupid. I am nervous driving, shopping, going to class, and eating. Especially eating. There are so many things to cut here! Food is huge and there are so many utensils and there’s a right way to do everything!

Let’s get something straight; I am no less clumsy in Asia. I still drop things, trip over myself, and mispronounce words no matter what language I am speaking. But in Taiwan, no one expects any different. I am a foreigner and everyone can see that. Even though I lived there most of my life, I look like I shouldn't know what is going on. When I don’t know what is going on, no one judges me. I’m a stupid foreigner. 

I’m well aware that most people probably don’t care enough about some random girl in the supermarket to judge her misadventures in the checkout line, but for some reason I can’t shake the terrifying feeling that everyone took a class on life in America that I missed. California has helped a bit. There are so many people here that I can’t be the oddest person anyone has seen that day. Even still, I’m a window shopper, left observing the rest of the world as they naturally navigate every day life.

"Why do we always expect home to stay the same? Nothing else does."
-Hearts in Atlantis

Homesickness

“Homesickness is just a state of mind for me. I'm always missing someone or someplace or something, I'm always trying to get back to some imaginary somewhere. My life has been one long longing.”
-Elizabeth Wurtzel, Prozac Nation

As I drove over the mountains I became filled with a deep, overwhelming desire for a place I know does not exist. It hit me so hard that I struggled to breathe and tears began to fill my eyes. I down shifted into third to get enough power to make it up this hideously long hill and I told myself to calm down. Inhale, Exhale, Inhale again. My heart was growing even more heavy, drenched in salt water like a dripping sponge. As I reached the top of the hill the sun broke through the sea of clouds and my heart wrung itself out just enough. The sun burned through my window and began to dry my drowning heart. I was not home. I may never be home. But I had gained the smallest piece of home back again and that was enough. The smallest piece of home is hope, and that's really the only piece I need.