Offering

My chronic headaches have good days and bad days. That is not to say that their intensity varies much, but my attitude towards them is consistently undulating. Yesterday must have been a bad day, because the subject of my headaches weaseled its way into my subconscious. It had been a very long week, and I barely made it home and into my bed. Much to my chagrin, I didn't immediately fall asleep. Instead, I found myself in the chasm between wakefulness and deep sleep ... rest, we'll call it. And I had a dream ... not a day dream, or a regular dream, but a rather a cloudy vision, a love-child of my exhaustion and frustration.
I dreamt that I had been diagnosed with brain cancer and given 4 weeks to live. Don't worry -- I am not a hypochondriac nor have I given in to a sick fatalism. This is a concept I have entertained once or twice before, though -- years of headaches affords one the time to chase diagnostic rabbit trails. And I have already decided exactly what I would do in just such a scenario -- (1) I would marry Josh immediately if I hadn't already, and (2) I would jump on an airplane and head for Calcutta. There is a place in my heart that has always longed for India, and I have always esteemed Mother Teresa's work among the poor. Facing death myself, I can't imagine a more beautiful place to be than ministering in her home for the dying. To hold someone closely, to let your tears run together, to mourn the loss of this world while looking with expectation to the next ... I would want to bring hope to those who need Jesus so deeply.
In this dream, I had already gone to India, and when I came back to Atlanta, the leadership at 12Stone gave me the opportunity teach that Sunday morning. This especially was a hallucination, because interns will always look from afar at the mainstage platform (which is just fine with me). But it is perhaps a notion worth entertaining -- you are on the brink of life eternal, and you are given a platform to share whatever wisdom God has given you. What would you share?
In my dream, I taught on making your life an offering. A familiar topic perhaps, but with my physical body failing, being lain on a metaphorical alter, it was poignant. Or perhaps it was just awesome because it was MY dream :)
I have spent some time today meditating on what it means for my life to be an offering, and (interestingly enough), my dream sermon ministered to my conscious heart. The reason I think my deathbed ministry in India would be so powerful is because of the coexistence my pain would afford. In other words, who better to minister to the dying than one who is dying herself?
I know that suffering is a powerful tool for personal sanctification, but I am coming to see that is also a weapon to be wielded on behalf of the Kingdom. We are called to love broken souls -- those who are mourning, those who are wounded, those who are enduring the deepest and most terrifying pains. When I too have faced those deeps and endured only through the strength of Christ, I am a more capable, loving, patient, merciful and expectant minister. Our suffering allows us to speak into the lives of those who are suffering too.
As I pulled up to work this morning, I noticed two things: (1) my manager hadn't arrived yet, so I couldn't get in and (2) one of the cleaning ladies was waiting by the door. I wanted to just sit in my car ... I was too tired to conjure up small talk. But I felt a familiar leading, and I reluctantly got out of my car. I sat next to her -- we never exchanged names, and we existed in an awkward silence with a few comments about the weather and such. She asked me if I've always lived in Georgia, and our conversation gained momentum from there. In just a few minutes of sitting with this woman, I found out that her sister had been murdered in Baltimore while resisting rape, and that she had moved to the south to escape that painful memory. She used to work at Wal-Mart, but had to quit her job when a several ton object fell on her son at work, shattering his pelvis and rendering him helpless while recovering. She didn't make much eye contact with me ... but I did see her eyes fill with tears as she explained his frustration with his new-found handicap. She is hurting ... deeply. Her son is hurting ... deeply.
My headaches are a minuscule affliction when compared to hurts such as those. But it is precisely the work of God in the midst of my pain that gives me a place to start with those who are hurting. So I prayed a dangerous prayer at church this morning while the room filled with exclamations of His holiness ... I prayed that God would increase my pain and brokenness if it will increase His kingdom. I am not a spotless offering ... my sins and pains have blemished and maimed me. And, with all honesty, my heart longs desperately for the day of my perfection, when I am given hind's feet to run on the high places with Him. But the blameless sacrifice has already been given, and my broken and contrite heart will not be despised. And I trust it will be used.

Joanna Newsom

If you haven't heard her music, brace yourself. Joanna Newsom is a harpist, pianist and singer/songwriter who happens to be both incredibly musically gifted and hard to listen to.
I was introduced to her by Josh, who seems to have been put under a spell by her musicianship. He encourages me to listen to the entirety of a song before I dismiss it -- which is a nicer way of saying I have no choice but to do so -- and her music was no exception. I am not even sure which song he had recorded on his fancy music-player-thingy, but it was ridiculously long. Her voice is almost abrasive, though she describes it as extremely "charactered." But, because I care about Josh and he cares about her music, I listened to not only that song, but several others in the past weeks. And I have decided that I like her. I do NOT like her voice, but everything else about her is enchanting.
I think it was watching her play that turned the tides for me ... I LOVE to watch people doing things that they love. You can see the depth of her passion exploding in her fingertips as they hit the harpstrings, and the way she contorts her face is revealing of deep concentration and concern. Her lyrics are magical and literary at the same time -- that may be the thing I like the most. Wait, no ... my favorite thing about her is that she is a self-proclaimed social weirdo (even though she is crazy gorgeous).

So now for the real reason I am writing this post. I was reading an interview with her, and I felt that there was a perfect word to describe her (insofar as I know her), but I just couldn't find it. It was driving me crazy. And then I woke up at 2:30 am this morning and knew just what it was. Incandescent. It means, "glowing or white with heat; intensely bright; brilliant; masterly; extraordinarily lucid; aglow with ardor, purpose, etc." Yup. And after awakening with the perfect word, I had to share it with someone, which turned out to be you, dear faceless blog reader.

So check her out. And give her a chance. But don't condone her crazy voice :)

A Note for Someone Else

I ended up in a little used bookstore on Monday night (thanks to my sweet man), and it was wonderful. It even smelled wonderful. If you don't know what I mean, then I will never be able to explain it to you. The place seems to be frequented by indie twenty-somethings who either love old, interesting books or think that the tired, tattered pages complement their disheveled style. But no matter the attire of the patrons ... because I had a splendid time perusing the eclectic selection of old and new titles. Because I work in a bookstore that sells only pristine books, it was easy to pass over the recent releases (if I am going to give in, I will at least wait until I can use my discount). Instead, I was drawn to books with yellowed pages, books acquainted with teaching their readers, books that seem to have mustered a wisdom of their own through the years.

And so I ended up in the section with all the modern library books. These editions were sold at "a price within everyone's reach," as the back boasts, in order to bring literature into everyone's library. It was so fun to open the covers of these books and see the prices set at just over $1. There were two of these titles that left the store with me (legally, of course): “Vanity Fair” and “The Consolation of Philosophy”. I chose “Vanity Fair” merely because I have always wanted to read it, especially after reading “Pilgrim’s Progress”. I first picked up “The Consolation of Philosophy” because I saw the name “À Kempis” on the spine, and immediately knew that it housed one of my favorite texts, “The Imitation of Christ.” But the reason that I was decided in leaving with this book was not merely for the classical material in it’s pages, but also for an enchanting little note that was written inside. It reads:

Dear Judy,
Just think – no more chaos! May you have smooth sailing from here on – except when I’m around to wreck havoc!
Love, Janice

This Janice sounds like a wonderful friend – thoughtful, spunky and quick to buy a friend a book in her time of need! I haven’t read the other two texts in the volume (“The Consolation of Philosphy” by Boethius or “Religio Medici” by Thomas Browne), but this note seemed a bit puzzling in light of what I have read. I read “The Imitation of Christ,” for my exit interview – along with 35 other books – so I will be the first to admit that I may not remember it extremely well. But the book is very much about holiness, discipline and the emulation of Christ – not something typically given to someone trying to weather a storm. If I am fighting to keep afloat, the last thing I want is more to manage. But as I reflected on this sweet little note, the more it seems a perfect choice. À Kempis is urging the reader to usher the heart of Christ deeply into her own heart, so that they beat as one. When one is fighting to exemplify the heart and actions of Christ, it seems a wonderful invitation for not only for His holiness, but for all of His character. In seeking His righteousness, one will surely encounter his love. In seeking His discipline, one will surely encounter his mercy. In seeking His perfection, one will surely encounter His grace. Thank you Jesus, for offering the whole of yourself to your children – you are good beyond my wildest dreams. And thank you Janice for encouraging your dear friend decades ago, and for encouraging me today.


[[Completely Random Side note: Hegel has some beautiful things to say about marriage. And what makes it even better is that he wasn't trying to be flowery. He was trying to articulate the ethics and realities of marriage, and those realities just so happen to be beautiful. Check it out. It's in "Philosophy of Right."]]

Recent Goings-On

It's been quite a while since I last blogged ... so for all y'all who live to read my blog, fret no longer.
Here are some recent happenings in my life:

1. I cut off my hair ... or at least most of it. It is super short and perhaps that most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me.

2. I went to Philly for a week. As usual, God used that crazy city to both stir and set things in my heart. I fell in love with student ministry again as I watched 9th and 10th graders step up in leadership, boldly love the broken and respond in worship. I needed some real clarification from the Lord on where my heart is in ministry, and I know that I am drawn to the passion of high school students -- it was good. And I got to see Elizabeth, which was a wonderful treat. I never cease to learn from her ... her words, her demeanor, and her presence are all testaments to the joy, humility and grace of Christ.

3. I started reading "So Long, Insecurity" by Beth Moore. If you are a woman, stop reading my blog and go get this book. I have always been hesitant with Beth Moore, because she traipses all over my feminist agendas. As an 'enlightened woman,' I have always held an inner scorn for her big hair, thick accent, and cheesy love for women. But this book is the jam. Read it. Beth Moore, I'm sorry I was a hater.

4. I discovered the DeKalb farmers market. It is my newest love.

That is all for now.
Love you guys ... I will try to blog more often.

Vacillate

1. to waver in mind or opinion; be indecisive or irresolute.

2. to sway unsteadily; waver; totter; stagger.

3. to oscillate or fluctuate.

I start my blog post with a definition because I am re-training my mind to think about words not as clay to be molded or tools to be employed, but rather as representatives of definitions. I signed up to take the GRE this summer, so am easing myself into the study process. I know, it is still like 4 months away, but my life is so busy that if I don't start now I will surely be unprepared. Even as I write this post, there is a little pile of flash cards calling for my attention.

But the reason I chose that particular word to define is because I feel my name should be definition #4. I "sway unsteadily" between the exciting reveries of my heart and my desire for a slow, lazy life. My wonderful boyfriend gave me a beautiful book for Valentine's day called "Slow: Life in Tuscan Town," and it makes me long for simplicity and an easy pace. Part of me wants to just work a normal day job, read myriads of fun flippant books, take lots of leisurely walks and sleep more than anyone should. I want to stop thinking big thoughts and reading big books and chasing big dreams. I want to just eat mangos and wipe my face on my shirt and lay in the grass and play with cooking vegan food and try my hand at all kinds of art and do nothing in particular.

But then I remember one big problem ... that is not really what I want.

I am not sure what I am going to end up doing with my life, but I know myself well enough to acknowledge that I don't find contentment in normalcy. In fact, the parts of my life (big and small) that comprise my deviance from the status quo are the places where I find most of my fulfillment and joy. I know that the Lord has seated something large in me, though I am not sure what it is. I want to seek Him and I want to lead and I want to learn (all day every day) and I want to change the world and I want to see chains broken and I want to write and I want to teach and I want pursue my purpose as intentionally as my Savior pursued His purpose.

Every time I want to be lazy and shake of my responsibilities, I find myself reawakened to the things that really bring life to me.
Example: On Sunday, I had absolutely no desire to go to our Compassion Leadership Team meeting. I was tired and I wanted to go to bed. But then I got to spend time with these wonderful students, and I watched their hearts burn with the splendor of God. They are still learning, and walking with them isn't easy, but it makes me feel alive to watch them being imbued with the heart of God

I had a long conversation with one of my co-workers at Barnes and Noble about how we both have dreams that we sometimes leave unrealized. She majored in journalism and French with the intention of being a travel writer, but decided it was too much work to break into a field with internships and jobs at small local papers. She is a phenomenal person ... she is kind, diligent in work at B&N, and has an easy smile that makes everyone comfortable. But her life is kind of a plateau ... she works, reads, watches TV, sleeps, spends times with friends ... over and over. And that conversation made me realize again that good things in life come with suffering and sorrow (something Jesus modeled well), but that the return is glorious.

So I am working to squelch my desire for futility and to become resolute in my pursuit of the Lord and his peaceful (but not easy) plans for my life.

PS -- I am sorry my blog is so introspective. It almost feels indulgent to write the way that I do about my life. But nobody is forcing you to read it :)

Oh, B&N

I learn a lot from the customers that come into Barnes and Noble.
Sometimes customers choose to educate me on the latest sci-fi novel that I MUST read, or the details of their favorite romance novel or they kindly let me know that Marge Simpson was featured in Playboy (ummm, yeah ... I am not even going to address that here). These enlightening moments are the ones that I try to avoid.
Other customers teach me things like patience, or kindness or (at the very least) self-control -- I am talking about the needy customers who want help finding 5 obscure books, or the rude customers who effectively treat me as their retail slave, or the packs of teenagers that stand in the sex section and giggle for an hour. I couldn't avoid these customers even if I wanted to -- they find me.
But, in all fairness, most customers don't fit into the aforementioned categories. They are just good people who are quick to engage in conversation about the books they have come to find. And I love it.
For example, I learned a lot about lyme disease from a woman the other day. We spent a good amount of time at the computer trying to find a book on the disease, so I casually mentioned that I know nothing about it. That was one of the many blessing of growing up in the great state of Colorado ... I didn't even know what ticks were until fairly recently. So she started telling me about the disease and its symptoms, the way it is typically transmitted, etc. What was most surprising to me was the debate in the medical community about the validity of chronic lyme disease. I forget that there is so much subjectivity in medicine ... it seems a lot of suffering is ignored in the middle of the debate. This woman was talking about her husband. She was telling me that he has had all the classic symptoms for 5 years, but that many doctors dismiss the notion that lyme disease is present. She didn't say anything especially heart-wrenching, but she has clearly borne his burden. It makes me want to be a lyme disease advocate. Something that I would never have cared about except for the generous conversation of a customer.
And then, tonight, I learned about this philosopher named Edmund Gettier. A guy in his early twenties (whose fashion sense screamed, 'I am so Enlightened!') came to find a book on this philosopher and was dismayed to find that no such book exists. So I asked him who Gettier is, and he told me that in one 3-page paper, Gettier demolished one of the most basic philosophic tenants. Since Plato, knowledge has been generally defined as 'justified true belief.' And, in three pages, this guy moves to shut down a legacy of thought. In three pages, he moved a whole discipline to reconsider it's understanding of knowledge. Crazy. So I learned three things from this customer: (1) the name and significance of an important 20th century thinker, (2) that words are immensely powerful ... probably more so than we will ever understand, (3) that I don't know much at all. {{ ** Side note: this customer looked about as directionless as anyone I've met ... I saw a latent intellectual hopelessness in him. Jesus, meet this man and show him what knowledge is and from Whom it comes. }}
People are treasure-troves of wonderful stories, thoughts, information, interests, passions -- the moments where I chose to operate out of this truth are the best moments at work for me.

Pseudonym

So I created a pseudonym for myself tonight ... call me a dork, call me strange, but I am pretty pumped about it. You may very well be asking, "For what reason would you need a pseudonym, Emily?"
Well, for my latest thought project. And I don't think I want this project connected to me in case it sucks :)
This will most certainly sound foolish, but creating an alter-ego of sorts is a fun drive-home-from-work task.
Try it ... and thank me later.