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 :)
Saturday, May 28, 2011
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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