gracefully

 i've written before about how i don't think i'm doing this pregnancy thing very gracefully.  in the beginning i thought, "maybe i'm like Mary. maybe i just need to treasure all of this in my heart." but i haven't done a very good job of treasuring these months either.

there are just so many places i've been allowed to value way more than i should without anyone noticing until now.  without myself noticing. without recognizing.

like, i don't resent my son for making my thighs bigger than they've ever been, do i?  if there is resentment, it's aimed at myself for not exercising enough or eating healthily enough during pregnancy. but what would enough of those things have looked like? couldn't my body have changed anyway?  isn't that the natural order of life for some women? i shouldn't be crippled by the fear that i might never fit into my favorite pair of jeans again, but i am.

or how about the way i want Tanner to need me. i want him to value me for all the ways i make his life better. do i then resent myself anew because all i've been able to do for the past nine months is ask for his help?

 and so i avoid social media and connecting with people i love because i feel toxic. i wouldn't want to spend time with me or hear me talk about my struggles for months on end.  i barely know how to express them in this short post sent into the void.  how do i share this with the people who care, but probably can't help?

and where have i left room for God in this?  how much control over health, wellness, success, survival, etc. do i think i have? apparently way more than i actually do. as my friend Lindsay says, "Jesus, help."

help me be at peace with the way things are.

help me place value where You place it.

help me grow, hopefully, gracefully.

tired eyes

it's a tired time. it's been a tired time. and i know this tired time won't end any moment too soon.

i find my attention span has the circumference of a dime. i see messages from friends and think of a response, only to scroll away before i actually type anything. i get lost in thought and then can't find the forest for the trees in my own head, which makes it very hard to think of a way to share my thoughts and express how life has been going. here goes trying...

in the words of my sister, Gracie and I have gotten the band back together.  when her stint in Alaska ended, she decided she might try out the Midwest for a little while...so she's staying with Tan and I while she finds a job and an apartment. some people have asked, "is it difficult having her stay with you in the midst of classes and being pregnant?" short answer: no.

for the past couple months, i've been telling my mom, "i wish you were here to make food for me, because i know i need to eat something, i just can't think of anything." and, sure, Grace isn't my mom, but having her here has done a complete overhaul on my diet. noodles. roasted vegetables. different fruits. greens. and even though my eyes are tired and acid reflux is still my constant companion, i'm thankful and eating healthy once again.

meditation on psalm 97

imagine

fire from heaven

spreading before Jesus 

when he walked with men.

imagine

the clouds around him,

darkness shielding us from him.

imagine lightning.

imagine mountains melting.

imagine the ocean unmoving.

that is a Jesus 

who would have rejected humility,

who would have come in righteous glory,

and every nation

would have fallen

in despair—

and while he will come like that someday,

he came as person,

as approachable as he could in those days,

so someday,

when he comes in terrifying glory,

we can rejoice

in the the king who sacrificed 

himself for our pardon,

who delivered us from

circumstance

and consequence,

so give thanks to his holy name.

talking about truth

 we've been talking a lot about truth these days.  

how do we define truth? 

do we own the truth we know,

 or do we merely believe it without internalizing? 

do we hold truth closer than doubt? 

do we live in it even without the affirmation of others? 

do we replace truth with conviction?

are the answers to these questions applicable to our generation,

or just me in my situation?

this isn't a poem, it's a pondering. a friend here at the training center has been surveying our classmates in pursuit of the answers to these questions, and he is convinced millennials and gen-z are moving to a place where doubt is at the core of everything we believe or become convicted of. we are a generation bent toward tolerance and flexibility and the idea of absolute truth strikes us as improbable.  

i am convinced of the absolute truth of God and His Word. i know that. and yet, when someone asks me, "what would science have to do to prove God does not exist?" i consider the question.  it feels wrong not to consider the question. does that mean i have a core of doubt? what does typing this say about me and my beliefs?

i believe the truth that God is love, because i have experienced it. i believe the truth that God offers peace that passes understanding, because i am unsure of many things in many ways but i know He walks with me every step of the way, and that soothes my soul. but are there places where i hold my doubt closer than the truth i know?

i thought today was the third

do i treat people,

all people,

like the image of God?

no.

not even all God’s people —

His saints, His children.

why?

i'm not sure, but i

realized today that my

son will be raised believing

a woman is what i am,

whether i tell him that or not.

and i want to give him

the honor,

the responsibility,

the knowledge that

all people bear God’s image, that

worth is not assigned by 

size, color, sexuality, or shape,

and especially not by his human say.

worth is assigned 

because our Holy God designed 

that body for that soul 

and He set that heart in motion 

with air He breathed from heaven 

and if that isn’t worthy 

of decency 

and respect 

and patience 

and gentleness 

and love, nothing is.

my son will learn this or he won’t 

and it will be the result 

of how i treat people — 

not just when they’re with me, 

but when their backs are turned 

and i in turn 

talk about them and what will i say?

what will he hear?

will he learn that people are worthy of his decency? 

not because he felt so 

but because God said so. 

will he see God’s image as holy? 

not just in the Bible 

but in the faces of humanity.

do I treat people, 

all people, 

like the image of God?

adjusting

 I thought it had been maybe a month since I last posted.  It has been three.

Hello, again.

I think I had hoped that if I did things "the right way," I would be saved from certain discomforts.  My current example is pregnancy. (If you missed it on instagram and facebook, Tan and I are welcoming a baby boy into the world in January!) What I mean is this: We waited to have sex till we got married. We followed all the "right" steps in building our relationship. We prayed over the decision to try to get pregnant and felt it was time. And I thought because we did all the "right" things, pregnancy would be a breeze.  I would be a glowing, joyful, worshipful pregnant woman, filled with grace and serenity.

There is not a lot of glowing grace in hugging a toilet bowl for the past 24 weeks. At least, not a lot that I can see. Of course, there is joy in the gift of life growing inside of me.  I'm amazed and thankful that God chose to give us a child, when I believed I would be unable to conceive, but those are big picture feelings.  Little, daily feelings are discouragement because I'm missing classes, mentally struggling with the concept of weight gain that doesn't look perfectly placed like the girls modelling maternity leggings, constant inadequacy and confusion when it comes to doctors and insurance and what to do when...

Where is the serenity in this?

Even as I type, I don't want to be misunderstood. I'm not asking for pity, or crying out from lack of love. The women in my family have surrounded and supported me the best they can from half way across the country. Teachers have been incredibly understanding with my absences. Tan has been amazing with doing dishes and laundry and keeping me updated with what I miss during class. The struggle, as always, is in my heart and head.

I don't have a pretty way to tie this up in a closing.  I don't even know if it's worth posting.  When I started this blog 5 years ago, my hope was that whoever joins this journey toward ministry with me would be able to look over my life and see God's faithfulness and how far He's carried me.  I guess that's the point. I want to share a moment where He's clearly carrying and it's all I can do to hang on.

june

 I didn't think I would actually post this month, but here I am - drinking cold coffee on my parents' couch after feeding and rocking my niece and nephew while my mom got ready for the day...and I'm typing into the void once again.

Realistically, I know this isn't a void. Way more people have popped in and read the words I've written than I ever anticipated (though the numbers are still few). Words have been elusive this past month and a half. Both journaling and speaking have taken concentrated effort that is difficult to muster.

I had goals, of course, for the time Tanner and I would be in New York. A few of them were accomplished; many of them never materialized. As we pack up to head to Wisconsin, I think that's the lesson God has slowly been teaching me this month. Slowly, because I can't seem to learn any other way. Too often, my goals rely on others' expectations of me. I want to maintain whatever status I have achieved in their eyes, and that has been impossible lately.  Not only have I been unable to achieve goals I think others think I should, but it has been made clear over and over again that no one had those goals for me in the first place.

Any standard I attempt to reach without God is impossible, and He is really only in the business of helping me meet His expectations, not everyone else's.

reflection

In two weeks and three days, I will be 28 years old. I will still be growing my hair out from an impromptu buzzcut just like I was at 18. I will still spend way too much time pondering eternity, life and death like I did at 13. I will still wear the scars on my feet from the surgery I had at 4. 

So much is the same. 

So much more has changed.

Here is a little non-poem about a cardinal:

there is a cardinal

that sings

by my window each

morning.

he flutters so close,

almost close

enough

to touch. 

his song is so simple, 

captivatingly clear. 

he’s alive in this moment. 

he’s breathing; he’s here 

and tomorrow isn’t his 

burden to bear. 

today has enough worries, 

more than enough cares, 

and even when it’s raining 

he has a song to share.

wilderness training

The last 3 weeks have been spent in wilderness training, as my brother calls it. The MTC calls it “Simple Living.” Tan and I spent the majority of that time without cellphones, limited running water, minimal solar electricity, and a litany of classes about teamwork and survival. 

Throughout that time, I kept a journal (like I do) and I wanted to share a few quotes that encouraged me out there on here.

“Yeah, I am a fearful person, but God carried me every step of the way.” -Carol C.

“You can try!” -Ezzy

“Do I treat you like you’re a part of me?” -Kris H., quoting someone else

“Conflict is a classroom.” -Jim T.

april showers

 I think I've posted a blog with this title before, but as usual, I'm not going to go back and check.  this stage of life is both fast and slow. it's hard to believe we're almost finished with our first year of missionary training. half way. mind boggling.

so what does the unfaithful writer say? how do I catch the faithful readers up on recent events? it seems that, since January, it has been more and more difficult to catch my thoughts on paper. I mean, even my instagram is a graveyard. what surprises me most is that I have guilt over that. like, if I'm bad at texting AND social media now, by the time we get overseas, I won't have any friends or emotional support. that, of course, takes all the control and puts it in my hands--leaving God completely out of the picture. yikes.

why the title april showers? it's raining outside. it's been raining for days, yet the whole world around us is in bloom.  I also think it's ironic because I have been to more baby showers in the past year than in my entire life, which is saying something because I have five younger siblings and a whole lot of family having babies as I grew up. that isn't a pregnancy announcement, by the way. just in case you were suspicious.

other recent events include burning the absolute garbage out of my hand on a skillet a week and a half ago. the burns currently look like someone glued halved dates to my first and middle fingers. unrelated to the burns, I've taken up dehydrating mangos and apples to make my own dried fruit for a three week long "wilderness" training.  It's "wilderness" because we'll be in the woods about three miles from our actual house, but I think it'll be fun to see Tanner in an extended camping situation.

my thoughts turn to the steady march of time. so many of our friends this past year are graduating from the training today. the excitement for their commencement into ministry is amazing! the gnawing ache of goodbyes as a lifestyle is less so. I remember almost four years ago when I left the Philippines, I wouldn't say goodbye, just "see ya later." God gave me so much comfort in that, and it's still true, but life does not stand still between meetings. children grow up. family dynamics shift and change. friendships strengthen or fall away. hugs don't reach through phone calls or videos. and it isn't just family and friends that change! we change, too, and how do those changes reconcile when we all come together again?

april showers.

waiting on may flowers.

let’s be on the same team

Tanner and I have recently been talking to our mentors about personal and marital growth, as well as hopes for the future.  They were talking about perspective shifts that transformed their relationship, and this statement was at the top of the list. They said whenever they get in an argument or a passionate discussion, one of the most helpful things is when one of them pauses and says, “Let’s be on the same team.”

The idea wrapped up in that statement is that if we, as a unit, are on opposite teams, neither of us ever wins.  If our marriage is a competition, and I crush Tanner in winning against him, we both lose, because our marriage suffers.  However, if we are on the same team, we both win, regardless of whose thought was “right”. 

I want to be on Tanner’s team.  I also want to be on my fellow trainees’ team.  I want to be on the universal Church’s team.  I want to be on God’s team.

How often do we face an uncomfortable situation with the statement, “I hate the idea of doing this thing, so I know God is going to make me”? Yikes.  That mindset completely pits my hopes against God’s great good thing for my life, and if I push and strain against Him, Jonah’s story proves the point: in any relationship where I fight to win over the other person, we both lose. God gets rejected and my hopes are ultimately crushed. 

I want to face the future by aligning myself on my husband’s team, and together choosing to be on God’s team. If we’re trying to win, I’d much rather win God’s way together.

nora

seven years ago, 

I wrote about a girl named Nora. 

she was me and 

I told the tragedy of my life. 

and it sounds melo-

dramatic because it is, and yet

that’s what I did.

I wrote about gut-wrenching grief, and

sorrow, and guilt,

about imagined happy endings

and reality

as bitter and harsh as it seemed

to me.

seven years ago,

still seems so starkly present sometimes

those dreams still alive

and yearning for people and places 

unavailable

so strings of past possibilities 

snarl around spools of

present realities and it sounds

melodramatic 

because it is, but that’s what I did.

and sometimes it’s hard

not to do what you’ve done forever.

seven years ago

I had no clue how much I would grow

or what I would try

to hold on to, or that I’d want to.

and seven years is

not as long as I thought it would be

so there is still grief

and dead dreams and guilt and some sorrow

but there’s still hope and

imagination for tomorrow.

If you had told me seven years ago that the burdens I carried were not only shared by God, but not necessary for me to carry at all...I would have believed you as I shifted the emotional weight around inside to make it more bearable. 

I am where God has me today, and today I’m remembering the burdens, not carrying them. It all sounds so melodramatic, but in seven more years, I wonder what I’ll look back on and say “Oh...sweetie, if only you knew...” And I think that’s part of living. And those are my thoughts today.

thoughts on psalm 16

“the Lord is my chosen portion

and my cup.”

that means I chose him and he

had already chosen me,

insignificant me —

led and kept by holy God,

held and protected against all odds.

he is a mountain

so i will not be shaken.

the Lord is my portion:

behind,

beside,

before —

the Lord is my companion

and he will not abandon

my soul.

prayer

how often do I pray for situations beyond my personal circle, influence, or circumstance? how often do I bring the burdens of my country, the orphans, widows, and wounded before my God? how often does my hurt and empathy for the global situation bring me to the throne of heaven to meditate?

honestly?

hardly at all.

it is the year 2021 in the year of my Lord. I have watched him save, provide, and protect over the last 365 days and over those days the blessings are innumerable. if you’ve read my blog before today, you know all that, yet today I am still convinced of my selfishness in my thoughts and petitions before God. I am convinced of my ability and responsibility to talk to the Creator-Savior of the universe not just on my behalf, but for the world. 

and if that isn’t a new year’s resolution, I don’t think I know what is.