South Africa. What a country!
I have to admit that in my naivete I thought all of Africa would be swelteringly hot. Not so. In case you also thought the way I did, let me inform you that in Johannesburg, South Africa it is currently 43°. Not cool. Cold.
I arrived last Friday and spent the night at a hostel. I thought I was going to freeze to death in that hostel room as the heater kept dying, but somehow God brought me through the night. The next morning I went bright and early to get my car from the airport, but the Hertz man told me that my license was unacceptable. It took two hours and a trip to both the airport and municipal police along with some reasoning and a wee bit of begging to finally allow him to give me the car. Thank God he didn't follow me to the car after he handed me the keys. I had been diligently reading up on how to drive stick-shift for a few days before I rented the car knowing it would be a challenge. I stalled the first four times I started the engine, and on one of them moved about 2 feet out of the parking space. I was so worried one of the rental car dudes was going to come over and tell me I had to give the hard-earned keys back.
Don't ask me how I drove the 5ks across the highways and up hills back to the hostel. Or the 30ks later that afternoon to the family I'm staying with now. God must have been protecting me. The next day, I had to reverse my car out of the family's driveway and as the two daughters sat in the cars prepared to move out after me (it's a complicated arrangement with six cars and one driveway), I proceeded to start, stall, and hop out of the driveway. One of the girls likened my style to that of a kangaroo. I think I can safely say that I've received more flattering comments.
Tomorrow I have a meeting with the CEO of a hospital division, a scheduled tour of the world's largest hospital (or so wiki claims it is), and an important meeting with a researcher. Pray they go well.
Now for the more 'solid' stuff (as solid as fluffy, female literature can get-all persons not-interested in my didacticism can stop reading here. Or here. Gotcha. Knew you'd keep reading. anyways, enough of my childishness...)
We've watched Anne of Greene Gables over the past week, and I have to say that after not seeing those movies for about 8 years, it was quite an enjoyable refresher. What a solid set of films. Gil's choices as a doctor made me think about my aspirations to go to 'the greatest' medical school. Ever since I got rejected at Yale as an undergrad, I've had this inner desire to 'prove' myself to academia and get into a good school and be the posh ivy-league kid. What rubbish. Being 'poor' is far better than changing yourself to something you don't really want. The beginning of this verse from proverbs says, 'what is desired in a man is steadfast love.' Gil loved home, and he didn't need to go out and prove himself-that's ultimately why Anne fell for him (literally-cue the beach scene from the beginning of the 3rd film).
What do I really love? I love working with people, doing public health researcher, talking about philosophy and faith, and exploring new places. I don't love biochemistry research. While the details are hard to get into here, I've felt an overwhelming need to become a researcher so I can go to a research based institution like Harvard or Yale. What a cop-out. I know what I want to become-a doctor working overseas. If I don't get into the best med schools, that's fine. I'm just going to take it one day at a time.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Sunday, June 19, 2011
(a/ir)rationality
Yet among the mature we do impart wisdom, although it is not a wisdom of this age or of the rulers of this age, who are doomed to pass away. But we impart a secret and hidden wisdom of God, which God decreed before the ages for our glory.
1 Corinthians 2:6-7
Reality London has been focusing on this chapter in the past few weeks, and God has simultaneously impressed the deeper concepts here onto my heart.
Those that know me, know me to be quite 'cerebral' for lack of a better word. I tend to analyze almost everything. From my own thoughts and motives, to relationships and communication, to religion and philosophy, I apply a strictly logical lens to everything I come across. In these past two or three weeks, I've realized that I've greatly stunted the way I view people and the way I view God. I usually treat others in the attitude that if they cannot rationally explain themselves to me, then I don't accept what they have to say. I had a long conversation the other day with Sara, a friend on project, that made me realize that I treat other people this way. It's easy to scoff at someone who holds a fear they can't explain (irrational fear), but is it right?
Paul preached that it wasn't so. In fact, in 1 Cor. 2:5, he writes that he did not want faith to rest on the wisdom of men, but on the power of God. He's not saying that faith should be against reason, but that it should not be limited to resting on the foundations of reason. He's not aiming for irrationality (unreasonable things), but for arationality (things that expand beyond the scope of human rationality). There is a very real part of the human experience that goes beyond the limits of rational description.
What happens when we try to box this huge universe into our mental matrix? Exhaustion. Pure exhaustion. I've experienced it. Chesterton wrote in 'Orthodoxy', "To accept everything is an exercise, to understand everything a strain... The poet only asks to get his head into the heavens. It is the logician who seeks to get the heavens into his head. And it is his head that splits." This principle has a decidedly spiritual dimension. Trying to fit everything in the heavens into one's head was precisely the approach that the Pharisees took. As Keller writes in "Prodigal God" this leads to 'joyless, fear-based compliance.' Sound like the 'abundant life' Jesus came to give us? I think not.
C.S. Lewis, who is the very paragon of brilliance to me, discovered the shortcomings of his rational approach to life through the tragic story of his relationship with Joy Davidman. In 1940, Lewis published 'The Problem of Pain,' a rather cerebral work on the existence of pain and suffering and how we could view in relation to our understanding of God. Twenty years later after the death of his beloved wife, Joy Davidman, Lewis filled up a journal with bitterly-toned statements against God-among them, Where is God? ...Go to Him when your need is desperate, when all other help is vain, and what do you find? A door slammed in your face, and a sound of bolting and double-bolting on the inside. After that, silence.
Was Lewis wrong to theorize about pain in our world? No. Was he mistaken to think that a rational approach to pain and suffering could fully describe the human experience of it? Absolutely. Human logic is limited; it cannot define beauty or goodness or friendship or justice or loyalty. It can do its best to describe it, but even when it comes close, it is only a printed photo of the real landscape. Einstein wrote, It would be possible to describe everything scientifically, but it would make no sense; it would be without meaning, as if you described a Beethoven symphony as a variation of wave pressure
To finish this post, let me point out that this blog is written in rational language with ideas. I'm attempting to communicate rational thoughts here. But rational thoughts (even the ones here) only try to describe reality; they can never encapsulate the immense reality of the beauty in this world, namely God's love for us. So don't read this blog as you sip your morning tea, and think, 'what a nice idea.' If what I wrote resonates with you, take the day and try to plunge into the depths of this universe. Personally, I'd start by looking at the author of it.
[I pray] that He may grant you strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.
Monday, June 6, 2011
Infinite Skeptics
An infinite skeptic is a man whose position I do not envy.
I won't delve into specifics, but I really struggled about three weeks ago, when I was placed in a Christian community where I felt that the appearance of righteousness was valued more than a relationship with God. As I'm reading about in Keller's Prodigal God right now, this love of the appearance of righteousness is equally as poisonous to our relationship with God as a sinful lifestyle. Worse yet, it's probably the harder of the two errant lifestyles to be snapped out of.
A rampant sinner recognizes his sin, but someone who counts on saving himself through 'righteousness' thinks they need no other savior. Tim Keller points out provocatively that at the end of the parable of the prodigal son, the wayward son has entered the father's banquet halls, while the older son remains outside (at least at the point that the told story closes). Both disrupt the relationship with the father for material goods. The older son wanted celebrations and a fatted calf, and the younger son wanted his monetary inheritance.
My response to what I saw as a Christianity-sham was to want to run from this 'Everything-that-Rises-Must-Converge'-type Christianity. I found something I didn't like, and I chose to stand aside and point fingers. It's always easier to point fingers and to question than to answer. I started to question for two weeks what God really was doing in most Christian's lives. At some point during this past week, however, I realized that (1) God does act in Christian's lives through his Holy Spirit, but only if we don't opt for this 'older brother' sort of proclaimed self-righteousness and (2) if I continually question everything, I'm going to end up clutching at wisps of vapor as I sink through invisible floors.
In our minds, we build houses and cities and universes out of our beliefs. We start at the foundational level with observations of the world around us, and then start building concepts upon that until we have larger structures that we place on side-streets of cities that host a range of other similar concepts. We connect those cities super highways, and thus make little kingdoms in our minds based on our beliefs about the world. If we choose to begin questioning our beliefs to the point that we start on the path of an infinite skeptic, then our mental structures start to crash to the ground, and we eventually fall with them. It's easier to not believe, but then we become an empty soul. G.K. Chesterton wrote in Orthodoxy 'But the new rebel is a skeptic, and will not entirely trust anything. He has no loyalty; therefore he can never be really a revolutionist.' It's easy to live with no loyalties, but life becomes only about us and our instinctual desires.
How exactly would that sort of a life look like? In About a Boy, Hugh Grant does a pretty good job of showing what that life would look like. The movie opens with his claiming that man is an 'island.' Grant's character soon beings to recognize that his easy loyalty-less life has left him devoid of anything meaningful, 'I'm the guy who's really good at choosing trainers or records, okay? That's it. I can't help you with real things. I can't help you with anything that means anything.' Then at the climax of the film, he's stuck in the position of trying to stop his first real friend from becoming a social outcast in front of the whole school. He does all that he can, but then, as fate would have it, his friend is thrown out to the lions anyways.
Here's where the skeptic is separated from the stalwart. The skeptic would say, 'ah, he's so uncool. I warned him. His loss.' The courageous man says, 'my loyalties lie with him. It's not about consequences, it's about relationship.' Grant steps on stage to join his friend, and becomes part of his suffering.
I've been the skeptic in more than one way. I've stood by to criticize Christianity when I'm chatting about it to my non-Christian friends. I've preferred to do things alone rather than to have to work with someone that I think might 'hold me back.' I've left people hanging because I wanted to do things my way rather than to trust them. These are things I've done to other humans and their institutions. But I have also been a skeptic to God. I struggled near the beginning of this week to stand by my faith during studentlife outreaches. It's easier to distance ourselves from anything awkward about Christianity when we are talking to a skeptic, but if we start breaking down our loyalties simply because we find them uncomfortable, then we end up with a world full of comfort, but no meaning, for meaning is not constrained to the kiddie pool of comfort or pleasure. It is opened in the boundless oceans of frigid, tempestuous waters.
Sarcasm is a fantastic metaphor. I think sarcasm has a great place in community because it fosters an environment where people can let their guards down, and give and take friendly shots at each other in jest. It becomes dangerous, however when people can no longer communicate simple truths with each other. The benefit of sarcasm is that you don't have to commit to a truth. You can say something in a humorous tone and people can take it to mean a number of different things without accepting the spoken words on their literal face value. If we play at sarcasm with our life decisions where we prefer to play around with our purpose and make choices that don't reflect our full heart, than we cheapen the one life that we each were given. Make your choices meaningfully, even when they hurt.
I won't delve into specifics, but I really struggled about three weeks ago, when I was placed in a Christian community where I felt that the appearance of righteousness was valued more than a relationship with God. As I'm reading about in Keller's Prodigal God right now, this love of the appearance of righteousness is equally as poisonous to our relationship with God as a sinful lifestyle. Worse yet, it's probably the harder of the two errant lifestyles to be snapped out of.
A rampant sinner recognizes his sin, but someone who counts on saving himself through 'righteousness' thinks they need no other savior. Tim Keller points out provocatively that at the end of the parable of the prodigal son, the wayward son has entered the father's banquet halls, while the older son remains outside (at least at the point that the told story closes). Both disrupt the relationship with the father for material goods. The older son wanted celebrations and a fatted calf, and the younger son wanted his monetary inheritance.
My response to what I saw as a Christianity-sham was to want to run from this 'Everything-that-Rises-Must-Converge'-type Christianity. I found something I didn't like, and I chose to stand aside and point fingers. It's always easier to point fingers and to question than to answer. I started to question for two weeks what God really was doing in most Christian's lives. At some point during this past week, however, I realized that (1) God does act in Christian's lives through his Holy Spirit, but only if we don't opt for this 'older brother' sort of proclaimed self-righteousness and (2) if I continually question everything, I'm going to end up clutching at wisps of vapor as I sink through invisible floors.
In our minds, we build houses and cities and universes out of our beliefs. We start at the foundational level with observations of the world around us, and then start building concepts upon that until we have larger structures that we place on side-streets of cities that host a range of other similar concepts. We connect those cities super highways, and thus make little kingdoms in our minds based on our beliefs about the world. If we choose to begin questioning our beliefs to the point that we start on the path of an infinite skeptic, then our mental structures start to crash to the ground, and we eventually fall with them. It's easier to not believe, but then we become an empty soul. G.K. Chesterton wrote in Orthodoxy 'But the new rebel is a skeptic, and will not entirely trust anything. He has no loyalty; therefore he can never be really a revolutionist.' It's easy to live with no loyalties, but life becomes only about us and our instinctual desires.
How exactly would that sort of a life look like? In About a Boy, Hugh Grant does a pretty good job of showing what that life would look like. The movie opens with his claiming that man is an 'island.' Grant's character soon beings to recognize that his easy loyalty-less life has left him devoid of anything meaningful, 'I'm the guy who's really good at choosing trainers or records, okay? That's it. I can't help you with real things. I can't help you with anything that means anything.' Then at the climax of the film, he's stuck in the position of trying to stop his first real friend from becoming a social outcast in front of the whole school. He does all that he can, but then, as fate would have it, his friend is thrown out to the lions anyways.
Here's where the skeptic is separated from the stalwart. The skeptic would say, 'ah, he's so uncool. I warned him. His loss.' The courageous man says, 'my loyalties lie with him. It's not about consequences, it's about relationship.' Grant steps on stage to join his friend, and becomes part of his suffering.
I've been the skeptic in more than one way. I've stood by to criticize Christianity when I'm chatting about it to my non-Christian friends. I've preferred to do things alone rather than to have to work with someone that I think might 'hold me back.' I've left people hanging because I wanted to do things my way rather than to trust them. These are things I've done to other humans and their institutions. But I have also been a skeptic to God. I struggled near the beginning of this week to stand by my faith during studentlife outreaches. It's easier to distance ourselves from anything awkward about Christianity when we are talking to a skeptic, but if we start breaking down our loyalties simply because we find them uncomfortable, then we end up with a world full of comfort, but no meaning, for meaning is not constrained to the kiddie pool of comfort or pleasure. It is opened in the boundless oceans of frigid, tempestuous waters.
Sarcasm is a fantastic metaphor. I think sarcasm has a great place in community because it fosters an environment where people can let their guards down, and give and take friendly shots at each other in jest. It becomes dangerous, however when people can no longer communicate simple truths with each other. The benefit of sarcasm is that you don't have to commit to a truth. You can say something in a humorous tone and people can take it to mean a number of different things without accepting the spoken words on their literal face value. If we play at sarcasm with our life decisions where we prefer to play around with our purpose and make choices that don't reflect our full heart, than we cheapen the one life that we each were given. Make your choices meaningfully, even when they hurt.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Londontowne
The celestial bodies have often been used for navigational purposes. The moon is used by trackers, the north star was used by escaping slaves, and the sun is used by me when I don't have any clue where I'm going. Whether or not the sun gives me a clue is an entirely different question. These celestial bodies also provide unique insight on whether or not one is located in the wonderful city of London. The method is two-fold:
(1) Look up to the sky. If neither the sun, moon, or stars are visible your probability of being in London is about 60%.
(2) Open your mouth, while still looking up. If rain falls into it, your odds of being in London have increased to about 95%.
This summarizes the weather of the week.
While in London, we've toured around the city, stopped by LSE and King's to get a feel for the campuses and learn about student's activities during the month of May and June. Next week, we'll be conducting our first surveys and hopefully generating some good discussions at different outreach events.
Personally, it feels incredibly different to be in London with a team, rather than being the individualistic person I normally am. Speaking of individualism, I'm sitting in the apartment alone. I just spent about two hours working on med-school research, while the rest of the group went exploring in Camden Market. I'll be there soon to replace the hipster beanie I lost, but I'm sad I'm not with our great group of people. Our great group has great conversations like the one below, that I shall end on before I leave to join our great group at a great park outreach. I should stop with the 'great's.
Sara (Bridges Staff and hilarious): What does the name, 'James' mean, So-cal? ('So-cal' is the name I've been given since I wear V-necks, hipster jeans, and plaid shirts)
Me: Truthful. Or something like that.
Sara: Nice. (Turns to Paige, our resident youngling-13 days younger than I-that oft receives jokes about her youth). What does your name mean?
Paige: I don't know. It's just Paige.
Me: (Confidently) It means, 'part of a greater story.'
Cheers for now :)
(1) Look up to the sky. If neither the sun, moon, or stars are visible your probability of being in London is about 60%.
(2) Open your mouth, while still looking up. If rain falls into it, your odds of being in London have increased to about 95%.
This summarizes the weather of the week.
While in London, we've toured around the city, stopped by LSE and King's to get a feel for the campuses and learn about student's activities during the month of May and June. Next week, we'll be conducting our first surveys and hopefully generating some good discussions at different outreach events.
Personally, it feels incredibly different to be in London with a team, rather than being the individualistic person I normally am. Speaking of individualism, I'm sitting in the apartment alone. I just spent about two hours working on med-school research, while the rest of the group went exploring in Camden Market. I'll be there soon to replace the hipster beanie I lost, but I'm sad I'm not with our great group of people. Our great group has great conversations like the one below, that I shall end on before I leave to join our great group at a great park outreach. I should stop with the 'great's.
Sara (Bridges Staff and hilarious): What does the name, 'James' mean, So-cal? ('So-cal' is the name I've been given since I wear V-necks, hipster jeans, and plaid shirts)
Me: Truthful. Or something like that.
Sara: Nice. (Turns to Paige, our resident youngling-13 days younger than I-that oft receives jokes about her youth). What does your name mean?
Paige: I don't know. It's just Paige.
Me: (Confidently) It means, 'part of a greater story.'
Cheers for now :)
Monday, May 23, 2011
Chilling in the place where the cows once crossed the river Cherwell
I'm sitting on the couch in a hostel typing this up. In Oxford ('ox'+'ford'=the incredibly long title). Sorry this is going to be a more chronicled post than anything themed. My mental state is not one that can put together something deep or organized.
God has been really good already, though it hasn't been the easiest of past two days. Sunday morning I arrived, and waited in immigration for a full 2 hours. While many people read through the line, my mind was exhausted after sleeping for less than 4 hours in the entire night, that I had no mental energy to digest a book. After arriving at the hallowed halls of GDS (my apartment building from last term), my good mate, Simon signed me in and graciously allowed me to stay over at his place.
I then ran off to Reality London for a good service and time of fellowship (ok, the fellowship was better for my tired mental state than the service-I may have dozed off about five times while taking notes; viewing the legibility of my letters creates a fantastic plot of my mental state of preparedness vs. the topic being discussed; I also may or may not have slept from the chorus of the first worship song to the last verse of the 4th and final song while trying to pray during worship). Well I got it out. There's my confession. Chris Sneller, our beastly project director and my good friend, shared that there were three things that could get in the way of making this summer a great one, and unconfessed sin was one of those.
Instead of boring you with the details of the following 12 hours, I'll skip ahead to my horrible misjudgment of transport time, when I told the rest of the team (8 people who had ridden in an 8 person van to Oxford) that I would meet them in Oxford at 11. After sleeping through my alarm due to the fantastic magic of the earplugs that Simon had given me to help me sleep through the night, I horribly misjudged the time it would take me to get a haircut, get to Victoria, run down the bus, ride the bus to Oxford, and find the hostel. let's just say I was about 2 hours late to meet the team. Gosh, I hate being 'that guy' who is late, but I hate even more being the guy who can't be independent, and I was definitely embarrassed by my failure to be able to navigate around the UK in a timely manner. Humbling-much?
That brings me to a lesson that God has really been trying to teach me for some while: humility. While in the Dominican Republic for the 2nd time over spring break, I really struggled with pride. Because I had been there before and knew my way around the block, I relied way too much on myself, rather than humbling myself before God. There's a subtle difference between being confident in one's abilities but asking God to use them, and being confident in one's abilities to the point that you don't ask God to use them. I definitely strayed too far in the DR, and God gave me some hard lessons there, so I think God is using this year of returning missions trips to bring me back to London, where I lived for 3 months, and to teach me to rely on him even in places that I feel competent in. As I'm currently filling out my applications to medical school, this is going to be a hugely important lesson. I feel comfortably in the academic sphere, and God has given me the ability to succeed at many things that I set my hands to, but I want to ask God to be a part of my medical school application process and to be a part of every single decision in areas that he may have gifted me in, but I still need to rely on him for.
This is going to be a great summer; and I hope that God teaches me lessons in humility in this place where God has challenged and grown me in so many ways over the past two years.
Cheers.
P.S. While in Oxford we had a great scavenger hunt, and one thing we needed to find was a picture of something that represented a 'difference between the US and the UK.' While my friend Paige took a picture of a sign with the words below on it, I'm not gonna wake her up asking her for it. This icon will have to do:
The DIfference: In the US, his last name is Christ.
P.P.S. having someone named Paige on project opens up endless pun possibilities. Also, another girl's last name is 'Tenpenny.' Needless to say, when I saw a 'Dime Crunch' flavor being sold at the ice cream shop we were in, I tried my hardest to convince her to buy it. I'm still trying to find out where in the Bible pun-making is listed as a spiritual gift. Because if it's there, then I think I'm set to go spiritually. I would probably join staff or something.
God has been really good already, though it hasn't been the easiest of past two days. Sunday morning I arrived, and waited in immigration for a full 2 hours. While many people read through the line, my mind was exhausted after sleeping for less than 4 hours in the entire night, that I had no mental energy to digest a book. After arriving at the hallowed halls of GDS (my apartment building from last term), my good mate, Simon signed me in and graciously allowed me to stay over at his place.
I then ran off to Reality London for a good service and time of fellowship (ok, the fellowship was better for my tired mental state than the service-I may have dozed off about five times while taking notes; viewing the legibility of my letters creates a fantastic plot of my mental state of preparedness vs. the topic being discussed; I also may or may not have slept from the chorus of the first worship song to the last verse of the 4th and final song while trying to pray during worship). Well I got it out. There's my confession. Chris Sneller, our beastly project director and my good friend, shared that there were three things that could get in the way of making this summer a great one, and unconfessed sin was one of those.
Instead of boring you with the details of the following 12 hours, I'll skip ahead to my horrible misjudgment of transport time, when I told the rest of the team (8 people who had ridden in an 8 person van to Oxford) that I would meet them in Oxford at 11. After sleeping through my alarm due to the fantastic magic of the earplugs that Simon had given me to help me sleep through the night, I horribly misjudged the time it would take me to get a haircut, get to Victoria, run down the bus, ride the bus to Oxford, and find the hostel. let's just say I was about 2 hours late to meet the team. Gosh, I hate being 'that guy' who is late, but I hate even more being the guy who can't be independent, and I was definitely embarrassed by my failure to be able to navigate around the UK in a timely manner. Humbling-much?
That brings me to a lesson that God has really been trying to teach me for some while: humility. While in the Dominican Republic for the 2nd time over spring break, I really struggled with pride. Because I had been there before and knew my way around the block, I relied way too much on myself, rather than humbling myself before God. There's a subtle difference between being confident in one's abilities but asking God to use them, and being confident in one's abilities to the point that you don't ask God to use them. I definitely strayed too far in the DR, and God gave me some hard lessons there, so I think God is using this year of returning missions trips to bring me back to London, where I lived for 3 months, and to teach me to rely on him even in places that I feel competent in. As I'm currently filling out my applications to medical school, this is going to be a hugely important lesson. I feel comfortably in the academic sphere, and God has given me the ability to succeed at many things that I set my hands to, but I want to ask God to be a part of my medical school application process and to be a part of every single decision in areas that he may have gifted me in, but I still need to rely on him for.
This is going to be a great summer; and I hope that God teaches me lessons in humility in this place where God has challenged and grown me in so many ways over the past two years.
Cheers.
P.S. While in Oxford we had a great scavenger hunt, and one thing we needed to find was a picture of something that represented a 'difference between the US and the UK.' While my friend Paige took a picture of a sign with the words below on it, I'm not gonna wake her up asking her for it. This icon will have to do:
The DIfference: In the US, his last name is Christ.
P.P.S. having someone named Paige on project opens up endless pun possibilities. Also, another girl's last name is 'Tenpenny.' Needless to say, when I saw a 'Dime Crunch' flavor being sold at the ice cream shop we were in, I tried my hardest to convince her to buy it. I'm still trying to find out where in the Bible pun-making is listed as a spiritual gift. Because if it's there, then I think I'm set to go spiritually. I would probably join staff or something.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Just Can't Get Away
On Sunday, I'll be setting foot on the bonnie shores of England, exactly one day less than five months since I stepped on the plane in Heathrow to return to the home of the Yanks and the land of the hamburger. I just can't get away (Rush of Fools, anyone?) from the UK, or the God that's given me a love for the country.
I just read my last entry from November before writing this resurrection post. A lot has happened since then. I've lost the facial hair, for one. I got a pair of super hipster glasses. I learned how to drive a scooter. (Speaking of scooters, yesterday I was driving to get my shots for my trip to South Africa later this summer, when I saw a man in full confederate general regalia scootering around to different street corners to wave at cars passing by. Definitely an 'only in South Carolina' moment.)
The transition back home has been an interesting one. Each time I come back, I realize just how connected I am to my hometown and my friends, but then I also realize how much I've changed over the past three years. In the spirit of the last post's 'then vs. now' comparisons, I came to Los Angeles as a sheltered homeschool kid, and now I'm a slightly less sheltered Trojan (I'd like to think that I'm close to normal now, but certain people keep reminding me of how sheltered I am. Thanks, Julia and Chelsea). I've had so many fantastic experiences in the past three years, and I'm excited for what the future has to bring. Life moves quickly. One of my good friends that I grew up with just got married on Sunday. It makes you think. I'm applying to medical school right now and have hopes of getting a masters degree in London next year. I've hoped to go to medical school for a long time, but not that it's right around the corner, it feels so much more palpable.
Snap. Caught myself reminiscing again. I tend to be a nostalgic writer, and I keep forgetting that no one likes to read sentimental mush. ::slaps wrist:: Back to the matter at hand.
I'll be leaving on Saturday to return to King's College London, where I studied last semester and had perhaps the best and most growing three months of my life. God called me back to work with Agape (StudentLife/Bridges International/CCC, take your choice of the names, but I'll be referring to it as Agape from now on). I'm so excited to see the friends I left and to share and discuss faith as an answer to life's most important and hardest questions. Please petition God for a few things:
(1) Pray that finances will come in. God has already done miracles in the past few days to bring in several hundred dollars. I still have a little ways to go, but as Mr. Beaver says, 'Aslan's on the move.'
(2) Pray for safety for the entire team both physically and spiritually while we're there. We'll face a lot of resistance there, and pray that we would be humble like sheep, but would be bold as lions in defending and sharing our faith as God calls us.
(3) Pray that our team would be inspired by agape. I was just going through 1 Corinthians 13 (it was next on Dallas Willard's list of scripture passages that Reid and I have been memorizing and studying over the past semester), and I was astounded by how important love is. Thankfully, our team will have the logistical ease of being able to speak the same language as the Brits, but according to 1 Cor. 13:1, even if we can speak their language, but have not love, we're not speaking to their hearts.
In the last year, I've been convicted of telling people that I'll 'be praying' (present participle indicates a continuous action/state) for someone if I'm not going to actually commit to be in a state of prayer for their request. I think something from my honest nature died every time I gave them a verbal 'promise' that I had desires of keeping, but knew I realistically was unlikely to keep. Now I tell people, I'll 'pray' for them, and usually pray right then and there and pray again whenever I think about their requests. So if you don't think you can commit to praying for me (commit if you feel God calling you please, but don't do it if it's out of obligation-Jesus isn't a huge fan of spiritual chores), then just say a quick prayer right now for one of those three requests (or all three-forgive my spiritual greediness). On the other hand, if you do wish to commit to praying more regularly, find the button on this page somewhere that allows you to follow this blog.
On a closing note, I'm intensely looking forward to getting a haircut at the Tabard Garden barbers. Only 9 quid for something that'd cost me $40 in the states, and far better than the $8 haircut I was tempted to get in LA. Thanks to my loving friends (Megan, Ben, Sonia, Mel) who urged me to make an agape choice with my hair ('patient' enough to wait and give my hair the 'kindness' it deserves-hopefully not an overly blasphemous application of 1 Cor. 13:4). I do love the ghetto $8 cuts on Vermont St., but Lord knows they can't compete with the Tabard Garden barbers.
Cheers for now!
(I can't wait to be allowed to freely say that! I use it moderately in LA, but abstain in the deep South. When I've used it in South Carolina in the past, I literally feel the judgmental thoughts raining down on me, usually the thoughts I feel are along the lines of 'what a drunkard...')
I just read my last entry from November before writing this resurrection post. A lot has happened since then. I've lost the facial hair, for one. I got a pair of super hipster glasses. I learned how to drive a scooter. (Speaking of scooters, yesterday I was driving to get my shots for my trip to South Africa later this summer, when I saw a man in full confederate general regalia scootering around to different street corners to wave at cars passing by. Definitely an 'only in South Carolina' moment.)
The transition back home has been an interesting one. Each time I come back, I realize just how connected I am to my hometown and my friends, but then I also realize how much I've changed over the past three years. In the spirit of the last post's 'then vs. now' comparisons, I came to Los Angeles as a sheltered homeschool kid, and now I'm a slightly less sheltered Trojan (I'd like to think that I'm close to normal now, but certain people keep reminding me of how sheltered I am. Thanks, Julia and Chelsea). I've had so many fantastic experiences in the past three years, and I'm excited for what the future has to bring. Life moves quickly. One of my good friends that I grew up with just got married on Sunday. It makes you think. I'm applying to medical school right now and have hopes of getting a masters degree in London next year. I've hoped to go to medical school for a long time, but not that it's right around the corner, it feels so much more palpable.
Snap. Caught myself reminiscing again. I tend to be a nostalgic writer, and I keep forgetting that no one likes to read sentimental mush. ::slaps wrist:: Back to the matter at hand.
I'll be leaving on Saturday to return to King's College London, where I studied last semester and had perhaps the best and most growing three months of my life. God called me back to work with Agape (StudentLife/Bridges International/CCC, take your choice of the names, but I'll be referring to it as Agape from now on). I'm so excited to see the friends I left and to share and discuss faith as an answer to life's most important and hardest questions. Please petition God for a few things:
(1) Pray that finances will come in. God has already done miracles in the past few days to bring in several hundred dollars. I still have a little ways to go, but as Mr. Beaver says, 'Aslan's on the move.'
(2) Pray for safety for the entire team both physically and spiritually while we're there. We'll face a lot of resistance there, and pray that we would be humble like sheep, but would be bold as lions in defending and sharing our faith as God calls us.
(3) Pray that our team would be inspired by agape. I was just going through 1 Corinthians 13 (it was next on Dallas Willard's list of scripture passages that Reid and I have been memorizing and studying over the past semester), and I was astounded by how important love is. Thankfully, our team will have the logistical ease of being able to speak the same language as the Brits, but according to 1 Cor. 13:1, even if we can speak their language, but have not love, we're not speaking to their hearts.
In the last year, I've been convicted of telling people that I'll 'be praying' (present participle indicates a continuous action/state) for someone if I'm not going to actually commit to be in a state of prayer for their request. I think something from my honest nature died every time I gave them a verbal 'promise' that I had desires of keeping, but knew I realistically was unlikely to keep. Now I tell people, I'll 'pray' for them, and usually pray right then and there and pray again whenever I think about their requests. So if you don't think you can commit to praying for me (commit if you feel God calling you please, but don't do it if it's out of obligation-Jesus isn't a huge fan of spiritual chores), then just say a quick prayer right now for one of those three requests (or all three-forgive my spiritual greediness). On the other hand, if you do wish to commit to praying more regularly, find the button on this page somewhere that allows you to follow this blog.
On a closing note, I'm intensely looking forward to getting a haircut at the Tabard Garden barbers. Only 9 quid for something that'd cost me $40 in the states, and far better than the $8 haircut I was tempted to get in LA. Thanks to my loving friends (Megan, Ben, Sonia, Mel) who urged me to make an agape choice with my hair ('patient' enough to wait and give my hair the 'kindness' it deserves-hopefully not an overly blasphemous application of 1 Cor. 13:4). I do love the ghetto $8 cuts on Vermont St., but Lord knows they can't compete with the Tabard Garden barbers.
Cheers for now!
(I can't wait to be allowed to freely say that! I use it moderately in LA, but abstain in the deep South. When I've used it in South Carolina in the past, I literally feel the judgmental thoughts raining down on me, usually the thoughts I feel are along the lines of 'what a drunkard...')
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