Fresh Eyes

Growing up and gratitude

2009-11-29T13:04:00.001-08:00

I am

surely

growing up.

And the more I push forward to the next thing in life, the more I am learning how much I need to be pushed back down.

Humbled.

I'm so thankful for the people in my life who offer that accountability and who have the patience to bear with me in my less than attractive attitudes. People who refrain from rolling their eyes when I launch into a tirade about one injustice or another. Friends who graciously struggle with me to find answers to big life questions. Neighbors who accept me as I am, in all my quirks, even when I am too quick to judge and assume and control.

I'm growing. But in my growing, I don't want to forget to become very small in my own eyes, that others may become larger.

This week, when we take time to reflect on gratitude, I am thankful for grace that grows with truth.

Grace that illuminates my need for Christ.

Grace that brings to light would I would rather hide.

Grace that is gentle

yet fierce,

fighting for love.

hope.

2009-10-24T15:19:00.000-07:00

I'm recovering hope.

It's passion in action

It's love on the move

and it's going to be messy.

This week and conference has been like coming home

home to a family I've never met but has always had a place for me

A family because

these are messy people

they're passionate

they've got intense personalities

they're joyfully exhausted

they're weathered and seasoned ministers

agents of love

and they love Jesus most

they aren't looking towards end goals

but living out life together

simply, humbly as sinners and forgivers

forgiven

they are liberated in their limits

they're on the move and home

embodying hospitality

and it's lovely.

abandon

2009-10-23T04:13:00.000-07:00

This week I'm in Cincinnati for the Christian Community Development Conference with a few other social work majors. It's a whole lot to take in, but I'm feeling extremely blessed to be here. Getting to rub shoulders with men and women who have committed their lives to living out their passion for gospel oriented community development is such an encouragment! It's also a tremendous challenge, for these men and women are great warriors of faith. They are fully aware of their weaknesses and their total dependance upon the Lord to do this humanly impossible work of knitting together communities that break racial, cultural, generational, class and gender bounds. These men and women are warriors of faith, committing everything to prayer, humbly and with hope. They support one another and challenge each other out of mediocrity and into a glorious Kingdom that Christ is bringing and sustaining even now!

After some incredible worship with these thousands of brothers and sisters and listening to Jim Wallis speak last night, I began to reflect upon my conflict between desiring to serve God in such a mighty way by loving his people and my fear of unknown plans and circumstances. Fears of loneliness and doubt of success or rejection by friends and family should be easily bushed away in light of such glory, but they aren't. Even in the face of an abundance of opportunities to serve, I doubt that God can really work out all the details. Even as I listen to the testimony and witness of many who have gone before me and are right alongside me, I feel too timid to jump into life with Christ as they have. Even as I consider the ridiculous nature of such concerns, here they are, right beside me. Oh how I need you, faithful savior!

We sang Come Thou Fount last night, and this refrain continues to echo in my heart:

... Let thy goodness like a fetter,

bind my wandering heart to Thee

Prone to wander, Lord I feel it,

Prone to leave the God I love;

Here's my heart Lord, take and seal it,

Seal it for thy courts above!

So today I am struggling with the colliding realities of fear in leaping into the unknown and thankfulness for God's placing a constant aching in my heart to run with abandon into his purpose. I am learning again and again that it is not a great risk to trust in this God, but a leap into a real and unending hope!

Would you, my friends, my community, my brothers and sisters, pray for discernment with me? Both you and I have such wonderful opportunity to rejoice with God in the coming of his kingdom; may the sharing of our lives spur one another on to live out of hope rather than fear, delighting in God's will and rejoicing with all the Saints to know that his will, will be done!

Beloved, we are God's children now, and what we will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when he appears we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is!

1 john 3:2

The social worker I want to be

2009-10-07T11:07:00.001-07:00

I have a lot of peace lately. Peace and hope.

There's nothing more wonderful than stepping outside and breathing in the cold crisp air while looking up into trees that splash bright red and soft gold across a brilliant blue sky. Leaves dance down from the branches and across paths on campus, getting caught on still so green grass. Jeans and sweatshirts and socks replace summer sheer and everyone is more settled. Comfortable. At rest. There's not yet a need to rush into the waiting warmth of a building, but we no longer carry the wet air with us. So we wander, we linger. Fall is like the pause at the end of a sentence: the rush of words has passed and now we sit and enjoy their fullness. Dwelling with them. Reflecting. Enjoying.

And in this space, I am settling more into myself.

I think it's rooted in a new and renewed sense of the person I want to be. A few weeks ago I wrote a bit on the type of social worker I want to be - one that seems to contrast pretty sharply with the portrait of a typical social worker. Sometimes it's so frustrating and isolating to find your vision and ethos set so far apart from the norm and so instead of resting in the pause, I was anxious to get onto the next thought, the next rallying cry. To sit and ruminate on the differences seemed oppressive and alienating.

But then fall came - that cold bit of clarity - in this short essay.

So as rudimentary as it is...

The Social Worker I Want to Be

In the many hours of reflecting and dreaming an reading about christian community that I've logged lately, I'm learning more about who I am and coming to find who I was, perhaps, created to be. Julianne, who has spent much of her life as a daughter, sister, friend, mini-mom and student- is finally coming into a personhood defined by relationships and duties yet to be known.

In studying the theory and practice of social work over the last two years, I have found community and passion and a place to grow in my own zeal to serve others by seeking the Kingdom on earth now. These experiences have revealed a greater passion and desire to study community by growing with and in community, struggling through conflict, and working to establish right and reconciled relationships. Viewing these interactions as necessarily related and dependent upon one another has helped me to begin developing a changed attitude towards the vocation (but essentially and wholly, work) of serving others; not merely by my knowledge, skills and values, but with my life, my relational offerings, my history and my future.

I am beginning to note a disconnect with some of the profession's basic premises of boundaries, goals, investment level and attitude towards relationships with my own personal (yet developing) ethos of practice. I know I have much to learn and experience and that such experiences will lend themselves to the creation of new perspective sand attitudes.

So I struggle, now, with the idea of what sort of social worker I want to be, acknowledging that I will be a life-long learner, but also eventually settling into some routine norms of behavior and boundary. I want goals that will propel me forward towards a more whole and biblically rooted model of community development, accomplished perhaps though social work practice.

I think I am yearning to a social worker at heart, not merely at work. To find a sense of self in posturing my entire life towards others - meeting them in relationships with a humility that echoes Lila Watson's well quoted phrase "If you have come because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us work together." As a daughter of the Creator and a member of his kingdom I can yearn with all creation toward our liberation. My motivation of gospel truth and life offers me purpose and direction for such pursuit - but it is one I feel most suited for service through dynamic and enduring relationships.

I do not want to be a social worker working for change that cannot be communicated or fully realized because it rejects it's inherent moralism. I aspire to be a social worker that can humbly emulate our Savior who practiced holistic community - addressing the physical and spiritual needs of his image bearers, even when and though we are utterly ignorant of our depravity.

Perhaps what I am discovering is that social work may not be my profession, but rather a lens through which I can view the world and my purpose within it. Maybe my desire for community is really a desire to engage others in relationships that bring about social change, God's Justice, through a right understanding of such purposed identity.

Then again, maybe not. Surely there is much more to be known and unlearned and re-imagined about this short bit of life in vocation. So I desire wisdom that graciously extends itself to purpose - through a calling to social work practice or elsewhere - and the peace to accept and live out of such identity.

unreasonable

2009-09-24T12:19:00.001-07:00

“The reasonable man adapts himself to the world; the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore all progress depends on the unreasonable man.”
~ George Bernard Shaw

And what is the name for one who submits to the father's will and works in the world to adapt it to the kingdom coming?

"For we are God's fellow workers. You are God's field, God's building."

"For consider your calling, brothers: not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose was is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God. He is the source of your life in Christ Jesus, whom God made our wisdom and righteousness and sanctification and redemption. Therefore, as it is written, "Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord."

1 corinthians 3:9, 1:26-31

A name:

worker.

field.

building.

un-prestigious.

culturally incompetent.

no-name.

unpolitical.

second string.

B-team.

despised.

low.

unreasonable?

Perhaps. For what worldly reason directs us to acknowledge our sinful state, surrender our lives to an infinite being, and live through hope of a life beyond death? Seriously, Jesus missed the memo on how to start an effective movement. Where are the cool slogans, viral videos, slick websites and catch phrases? I mean, we've got this thing called christianity...but can we truly call it

Progress?

Forward motion?

Holy?

Romans 8 speaks of the yearning of all creation for redemption and restoration. Glory revealed and glory defined.

Mr. Shaw has it partially right, but I would challenge that we - the unreasonable - are not adapting the world to ourselves but are living beyond human reason to partake in the adaption of this world towards a kingdom vision. We have hope.

At least, we profess hope.

Are we living it?

Living beyond reason because we have true reason for living?

an opposite way

2009-09-18T10:50:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was absolutely gorgeous. Blue skies, an almost-fall breeze and warm sun made it impossible to pass up an afternoon bike ride. I have been wanting to try a longer loop in the forest preserve near school and it seemed like a great day for it! As I wound along a path of tall and cheery black eyed susans and an array of other wildflowers, I quickly discovered that I was heading against the flow of traffic. In the span of an hour I passed maybe three or four people walking on my side of the path while an unending stream of bikers, runners, rollerblade(rs?) and walkers came past on my left. It wasn't long before I began to wonder if I was still on the loop path or if I had perhaps somehow taken a detour that would dump me in the parking lot that everyone must be coming from.

But no, I stopped to check maps at every checkpoint and counted the mile markers and eventually began to recognize people coming around from the other side of the loop that I had seen before. Still, it seemed odd to be constantly face to face with so many people, particularly as nearly all of us were participating in exercise alone. Each encounter was an opportunity for a "hello" or head nod or quick wave - and nearly everyone was receptive to, if not the initiator in, these small pleasantries.

It struck me how similar this afternoon bike ride is to my life. Heading down a 'straight and narrow' path, an opposite way, can be lonesome. Occasionally there are others who come along side, whose lives you can observe or follow behind - and their presence is so valuable - but the vast majority of our interactions with the world are with many who are living out similar lives heading in completely opposite directions. Eventually we'll all end up the same place and know Jesus is the holy son of God. Eventually we'll see the kingdom come fully into a new heaven and earth.

But right now I'm just heading an opposite way, catching glimpses of such glory in gorgeous days and bike rides and black eyed susans. I love those fleeting hellos - they offer an opportunity to communicate love and humanity so simply. If I find myself living without chances to greet and share bits of life with people heading an opposite way - perhaps it will mean that I too am flowing along with them. I pray that if I find myself in such a place, God will send others who are heading in his opposite way to remind me of my humanity and calling, to help reorient me towards not just a destination but a way of living.

At one of my map checking stop points I exchanged hellos with a group of friends who were posting fliers about their friend who has been missing since last week. I sincerely hope their friend is found soon and in good health; their care and concern to step out of the normalcy of life to seek out a lost friend reminded me so much of the community I am blessed with, one that does not count it a cost to put life on hold to support and strengthen me, reorienting me to the right path. A path of life.

I'm thankful for hope even in this life. Hope that can shine in eyes and greetings and laughter, that strengthens hearts and character and breathes life. Hope that not only gives me a destination but a more excellent opposite way of living.

practice resurrection.

2009-09-08T21:39:00.000-07:00

As I think about the person I want to be - or rather, to come into being, I'm finding a sort of kindred spirit with the simple yet poignant observations of Wendell Berry. I recently came across this manifesto, entitled: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front.

enjoy.

Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more
of everything ready-made. Be afraid
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know.

So, friends, every day do something
that won't compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.
Denounce the government and embrace
the flag. Hope to live in that free
republic for which it stands.
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man
has not encountered he has not destroyed.

Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millenium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.
Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.

Put your faith in the two inches of humus
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion - put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come.
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts.
So long as women do not go cheap
for power, please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep
of a woman near to giving birth?

Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn't go. Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.

desert roads

2009-09-07T08:46:00.000-07:00

I've never quite understood the desire to make bold declarations of what one will 'give up' for God. I'm often skeptical of alter calls and dedications, of commitment events and rededication retreats that seem to have little impact beyond a week or two of changed perspective. Perhaps it's just my personality, but I value and aspire to enduring faith, to consistency.

Sadly, I'm discovering that the unfortunate root of this perspective is probably pride rather than righteousness. I say I want to be consistant, to live always oriented towards the gospel and away from myself; that I want less valleys and peaks and more narrow road. And then I find myself on this road in the desert. I am so quickly discouraged and feel lost and abandoned (though it causes me to wonder how I find myself lost on this 'straight and narrow'...) and begin to question where I'm coming from and where I'm going. Consistency. Right.

This quandary reminds me of my first year of cross country in high school. You have to understand that Colorado is absolutely gorgeous but it necessarily includes a high desert climate to achieve such stunning sunny days and brisk starry nights. High desert = dry dry and no air. So, it was my first race and we were up at about 10,000 feet. The course was laid out over a hiking path which went up the side of a mountain, turned around for the decent and then climbed again, turned back downhill and, after a long straightaway led to a quick sharp uphill sprint to the finish. It was an absolutely stunning view but the ridiculous elevation changes were more than my green legs (or lungs) could take. I finished my first race gasping for air and water and vowing never to put myself through the humiliation of such an event again.

Fast forward to two months later. I had spent a week training on hills in the mountains and was heading back down to Denver for a road race just before the end of the season. I was conditioned and 'seasoned' and ready. It was wicked hot out - enough so that folks in the neighborhoods we were running through grabbed hoses and sprayed runners as we trotted past their driveways. This course was flat flat flat and followed along a dried up river bed for the majority of the race. Dust was kicked up by the hundreds of girls running; dust that coated the back of my throat and seemed to fill my lungs with its rusty grit. Girls were dropping like flies in the oppressive heat and muscles were cramping with lactic acid and dehydration after just the first mile. Around the second mile mark there was a long flat stretch that ran right along the field we would finish at a mile later. Being the solid back of the packer that I was (am...), there were girls already finishing and throwing their exhausted bodies down on the grass. I looked behind me and before me at the runners who were still plowing ahead, fixated on the path in front of them. But now that I had seen others finishing just a short hop of a fence away, I felt incredibly discouraged and irritated that I should have to run a half mile in the opposite direction in order to reach that same mark. Then those awful thoughts about the futility of race running crept in. "What would it really matter if you dropped out? What is really going to happen if you just don't finish this one? It's not like there's anything actually waiting for you at the finish. I mean, come on JV squad, no one is going to celebrate your time..."

Then I got hit with an ice cold reality check. Literally. Some kid with a hose stood in his yard yelling at all of us to keep running as he blasted my whole right side with water. His grandparents were standing on the porch cheering us on. Coaches began shouting to us from the other side of the fence - from their vantage point of the finish line - to press on for the last mile. So I stopped thinking and rationalizing and questioning and I ran. I finished with my best time of the season and promptly collapsed on the side of the road. But I was satisfied. Also, a free gatorade and an approving slap on the back from my coach = success.

So these two situations make me wonder, how do I practice endurance in my life? What am I inclined towards with the attitudes and choices that I make? When I'm stuck in peaks and valleys I vow never to return to such difficulty or embarrassment or neediness; yet when I find myself in the middle of a long, flat, dry spot I all but give up. I question my identity and purpose and direction. I begin to theorize and justify and attempt to create new goals from right there in the middle of the race.

The past few months I've found myself on the dry and narrow desert road after a spring spent on numerous hills and valleys. I have been praying for God to quiet my heart, to teach me to desire his own and to reveal to me the Julianne-ness that keeps me from running towards it with abandon. I asked God today if those prayers make him laugh because it seems that without fail, I'll make it no more than a week after such a petition and begin to question why things are suddenly so hot and dusty and discouraging. I could almost hear the big hearty belly laugh (which is the only way I can imagine God laughing) in response to such a question. It's almost like asking if I breathe or exist.

The dynamics of a relationship with this Creator never cease to bewilder and establish me, for I so quickly lose sight of the goal and start to question if there ever was one in the first place. Yet all the while, God is hemming me in before and behind and Christ, my blessed and glorious savior, is right beside me.

Oh for consistency.

So I hold to the small evidences that I am growing, that sometimes

I find a way to love

to serve

to listen

and hear

I'm becoming more me, more the me I was created to be regardless of the path or peak I may be on. And when I wander, what joy to be found always in the fullness of grace

Prone to wander, Lord I feel it

Prone to leave the God I love

Take my heart Lord, take and seal it

Seal it for thy courts above

wisdom.

2009-09-02T20:24:00.000-07:00

Lord, teach me to desire your will

and to stop praying

that you would desire mine.

fuzz.

2009-08-31T21:25:00.000-07:00

Summary.

Conclusion.

Analysis.

Evaluation.

Synopsis.

Verdict.

I have none of these things.

I have been wanting so much to 'process' my summer. To prepare for the semester by boiling down my experiences in Maine and traveling about to some easily digested and concise points that can be applied to future endeavors.

This is a foolhardy plan because it assumes two things. First, it expects that I will encounter future circumstances that will benefit from applied knowledge rather than lived experience and conviction. Second, this attempt suggests that the story God is writing in my life has greater value as discussion questions than as a journey. But living is so much more enticing and exciting than a stuffy set of summary points - yet the summary sure seems safer. In summary I can fool myself into believing that I'm in control, that I have some kind of clarity and perspective and understanding.

Today, despite my best efforts, I have a head full of fuzz. I feel incredibly incompetent to convey my feelings and thoughts but a sense of urgency to do so. I feel conflicted about my role in community, my role in friendships, my desire for a relationship, and even how I am spending my fleeting time left on campus living college life. I feel inconsequential, immature and borderline irritating.

But if I am just a little bit observant, I realize that I am full of me. I aspire to serve others but I dwell upon my Julianne-ness. These are not congruent. They are in conflict. They are fuzz. I become overwhelmed by my circumstances and try desperately to grab onto anything firm within my reach. Sadly, God is often the last aid I reach for. I try too hard and struggle for too long towards hopes and ideals rather than truth and love.

I praise God tonight for the mess of community he's surrounded me with. For friends who do call me out on my sin, and love me deeply as they do - who do not shirk from the responsibility and difficulty of raw and real encounters with one another. I thank God for friends who accept me even in these inarticulate meltdown messes. I find the fullness of life for my story and journey through theirs.

At our leadership summit this past week the speaker introduced the idea of 'soul-prints'. Soul-prints, much like fingerprints, leave a unique mark on everything we touch but have a much more significant impact than mere trace on glass. With each conversation and interaction we have the opportunity to be the flesh and blood of Christ. Does that scare anyone else? I find it just a bit intimidating to consider the weight of my life, if a life used to love and serve outwardly rather than inwardly. And if not, then what a waste of a life created with the potential and longing to glorify this God that exists beyond time and loves beyond reason.!

It reminds me of one of my favorite Bonhoeffer quotes from his book Life Together. He writes, "God has put his Word into the mouth of men in order that it may be communicated to other men. When one person is struck by the Word, he speaks it to others. God has willed that we should seek and find His living Word in the witness of a brother, in the mouth of man. Therefore, the Christian needs another Christian who speaks God's Word to him. He needs him again and again when he becomes uncertain and discouraged, for by himself he cannot help himself without belying the truth. He needs his brother man as a bearer and proclaimer of the divine word of salvation. He needs his brother solely because of Jesus Christ. The Christ in his own heart is weaker than the Christ in the word of his brother; his own heart is uncertain, his brother's is sure."

I just can't get over how lovely that idea is and how blessed I am to see it play out in my own life despite all this fuzz and confusion and unscripted living. Even tonight as I worry and stress and fail to find words to give meaning to my thoughts - this remains true: I am a child of the living God and my greatest purpose and joy is to love and honor him. How perfectly mysterious that he should craft us to love and honor him by loving and serving and humbling and stumbling along with these brothers and sisters!

end of summer updates

2009-08-21T22:41:00.000-07:00

I hate just writing about my circumstances, but so much has happened in the last two weeks that I think a general recap is somewhat necessary for any forward motion. cue the relient k song.

so, starting with two weeks ago from thursday:

My portland church Missio Dei plans a slightly awkward but very sweet and unexpected farewell party complete with steak tips and carrot cake and a rousing rendition of 'for she's a jolly good fellow' yada yada yada awkwardness ensues, homesickness follows.

Friday I hop a train for Londonderry to find my childhood home has become a trailer trash wonderland. We circle round the block, do not pass go, do not feed the ducks at macs, they will attack you and your ice cream. Steph and Hannah are lovely hostesses, Tim's about 15 feet tall and a trip up to Mt. Washington and swimming in the river makes the summer complete.

Rush home to take some crazy "mike face" pictures (think shake face but better) with an eccentric but darling couple from NY, say goodbyes to the Rolands and PACK!

One final day of work, rush to finish transcribing then we're whisked off to the coast for some farewell seafood. See some famous person. Liz? Laura? Susan? Clearly irrelevant. Eat and talk, get ROC shirts and the Peace and Justice bible from Tracy and Genet, return home to find dusty was eaten by a rabid moose. We wish. Pack and talk and dance and pack and laundry and talk and pack until 2am. Airport at 5:30. Mackenzie loses ID. Finds ID. Fly to NY. Fly to DC. Walk many blocks to convent. Drop suitcases. Shower.

Almost meet up with Moody friend from Portland. Fail. Drink good chai. "debrief". OVERWHELMED. Try to have coherent conversations with friends on the phone. fail. Sleep.

Up. Read more of Job and watch a mesmerizing sprinkler. Tic Tic Tic chhchhchh tic tic tic. More 'debrief'. Do a poor quality and rushed presentation of my less than epic summer. Do not adequately convey God's awesomeness. Make up fake plans to change the world for workers. Wonder what I'm doing with these people. Vent about interfaith impracticalities.

Bolt for downtown. Meet CAT! catch up on life way too quickly, more to come. Deb and Todd and Argo. Friendship and stories and summer. Condensed. Kendra and the guy with 12 names. Pretty quality fellow. Goodbyes are too quick and back to the convent. Meet Derek. Transfer 80lb bag of useless junk. Wander lincoln park lost. It's fun. Eat. Laugh and talk. Have three am convo about God's will with my recent catholic re-convert roommate.

Up. Pack. Read Job: confusing. Build a tower of blocks with fellow interns to wrap up the summer. Take pictures. Discover I will miss them. Find cupcake place. Discuss finer failures of the internship to ROC national coordinator. Feel better able to see all the crazy ways God DID work. He's so much larger than I know.

El to Ohare. Check bag. Watch rich man melt down over misplaced ticket. Feel thankful for my stolen wallet. Move gates 8 times. Board plane that might have a LOST-like demise. Watch The Soloist. Love it. Watch people fight to get off the plane.

Arrive in Phoenix. Convince mom to follow directions to hotel. Overwhelmed by family, and love it. Spend two days getting antsy trying to relax by lying on a towel by a big hole filled with water.

Josh's wedding. Finally josh. :) Have the best night ever. Remember how blessed I am with such a crazy loving extended family.

Spend 18 hours in an overpacked mini-van with a very tense family. Traditional dinner at DQ. Classy. Many hours of Adventures in Odyssey. After three major pull-the-car-over melt-downs with abby we make it home at 2am.

Colorado.

Cold then hot. Bake lots. More tantrums. Wait in line at DMV for new license. Huge argument at home about my passions. Feel completely out of place. Storm out like an angry 13 year old. Cry and talk to Jesus. Struggle with why I care about walmart exploitation and sweatshops. Blubber on the phone to Kendra and experience the ridiculous power of the holy spirit to transform my heart as she prays. Have a great talk with dad and hug him. Feel thankful for similar personalities.

Am kind of a jerk sister and laugh at ben's new brace:

Contemplate more seriously a year of no clothes buying. Buy extra underwear at target just in case. Apply for a credit card. gag. Decide never to purchase anything I can't immediately afford or explain to my father. Get slapped by my little sister. Pray for her to know Jesus and his love while she screams bloody murder for the third time in 4 hours.

So.

That last bit is today and here I am. Oh. Well just before this shan and mom and I looked at http://awkwardfamilyphotos.com/ and laughed a whole lot. That helped with today. Shan's been so great putting up with us while she visits all week.

But in all seriousness and with a lot of desperation, I ask you to please pray for my family and mostly for my sister. She's seriously struggling with something and so fighting our love. It's draining me after just days and I don't know how my mom is holding up so well. It's terrifying to see such anger and hatred flash across the eyes of a 6 year old. But this is real life. Every family has struggles and messiness and right now, this is ours. It brings new meaning to concepts like unconditional love and supernatural peace.

In four days I'll be back in trolltown and 1100 miles from this family. The thought brings a mixed up mess of emotions. I am so eager to see what God will do with and through the members of this nutty experiment of Koinonia; but at the same time I feel less than adequate to serve others when I see my own family so struggling and am helpless to change it.

What perfect peace comes from trusting in one holy and unchanging God who loves more than I can fathom and guides more faithfully than I could even hope for.

at least, this is what I'm reminding myself of today.

"Then Job answered the Lord and said:

I know that you can do all things, and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted.

'Who is this that hides counsel without knowledge?'

Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand, things too wonderful for me, which I did not know.

'Hear and I will speak; I will question you and you make it known to me.'

I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees you; therefore I despise myself, and repent in dust and ashes."

Job 42:1-6

heading back to chi-town

2009-08-11T19:36:00.000-07:00

As I write this, I am en route to Chicago for our two day IWJ debrief. I’m not quite sure what the next two days will hold but I’m hopeful that they will challenge me to examine all that transpired this summer and how it will continue to impact my life and decisions in the future. On the one hand, I can’t believe that the summer has sped by so quickly, but at the same time I am more than ready to see my family and friends, to be back in a place of comfort and known community.

I want to thank all of you who have supported me by your prayers, your words of encouragement, your perspective when I was stuck and challenged, your financial support that kept me fed, and your willingness to share what the Lord has been doing in your lives this summer, even as I was far removed from your immediate circumstances. It has been such a blessing and honor to be in Portland, seeking to serve the Lord and love his people while learning more about what justice is and how I might encounter it in our broken world.

I was thinking this past week about how ordinary, yet difficult this summer was. In one sense it was a real working summer, and I hope a good preview of what real life, life beyond college and living at home might look like. Certainly the future will hold numerous more responsibilities and opportunities than this internship and short time frame could afford, but I feel I've gained much by this experience. Still, I can’t say it’s been a ‘fun’ summer. I don’t have a new pack of best friends or inside jokes or camp songs, I haven’t even been able to keep very close tabs on my own family as they’ve traveled all over the place. There’s been no epiphany or mountain top experience illuminating my life calling or even directing my post-grad plans.

No, it’s been much more subtle, gradual, and less obvious growth. Two months ago I was wrapped up in training for this internship and that was sufficiently overwhelming. I had no idea what I was in for and really, it didn’t matter. I couldn’t have been prepared for all God had in store. I couldn’t have been properly trained for how to struggle through the gospel with a co-worker my very first day, let alone how to continue to struggle all summer long with the same questions and difficult to understand answers. I couldn’t have been prepared for the unending barrage of questions about evangelical faith within an interfaith context (and I still don’t know the answer to that one). I couldn’t have learned ahead of time how to be more outgoing, more engaging, more go with the flow and willing to take risks to make new friends and serve others. I couldn’t have been prepared for the introspection, the challenging of my own ideals, ethos, and past. No book or blog reading, no conversation or testimony or inspiring quote could have taught me as swiftly and wholly how much I need Jesus daily and regardless of my circumstances or perceived ability to react to them.

It’s so encouraging to look back on the summer and the months leading up to it and see how God was at work preparing me for the questions and frustrations and insight to come. How faithful he is! Re-reading through old journal entries has been such a good exercise in my neediness and God's continued grace and clear divine perspective.

I still have many questions without answers. I still don’t know what on earth God will have me doing this time next year. I still believe in his goodness, his holiness and his love for me. I've learned much about who I am, and whose I am: crafted in the image of the unchanging God and purposed uniquely to bring his glory to his kingdom. I've come to find new sweetness in the blessing of Christian community and new joy in knowing and encountering God in his word.

I’m still wrestling with the idea that at some point, some day, I’ll just “arrive” at adulthood; landing in a job or a family that will usher in some new era of faith and joy with the Lord. Slowly but surely the adventure and wonder of engaging the God of the universe in a relationship right now, today – and honoring him in all that I do, beginning today – is beginning to take hold of my heart.

In other news...today I was reading James on the plane and am fascinated by the connection he makes repeatedly between the faith v works debate and saying v doing in serving the poor.

"What good is it brothers, if someone says he has faith but does not have works? Can that faith save him? If a brother or sister is poorly clothed and lacking in daily food, and one of you says to them, "Go in peace, be warmed and filled," without giving them the things needed for the body, what good is that? So faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead." - 2:14-17

any thoughts?

Things.

2009-08-05T19:54:00.000-07:00

My backpack got stolen.

In it was my wallet, ipod, 8 dollars, office keys, interview recorder (with about three weeks of work on it), water bottle, IRS mail, a used handkerchief, chap-stick, my favorite pen, the handle for our bike and a half used pack of gum.

It got stolen at an event Mackenzie and I put on that brought faith leaders and labor advocates together in conversation. The conversation was fantastic. Losing my stuff was strange. They didn't take my laptop or camera. A blessing.

Two days ago I wrote about seeking a departure from material things. In some ways, I feel satisfied not to feel too deep a loss for these things. I miss most the little notes and bible verses and quotes I have written on index cards and post its and the backs of receipts that I've been carrying around for years. I can't get those back. But I still have the people who inspired them and really, that's all that matters.

But I'm still frustrated. My world is so dependent on things. Losing them upsets my routine, my perceived safety. My sense of trust.

Things.

Sometimes, I just don't want the responsibility of them.

But honestly, if someone had really asked me for my backpack, would I give it to them?

No. Almost certainly not.

It's mine. I bought it. My stuff is inside. But someone took it. I don't know why. My computer was sitting out in the middle of the room and they snagged the backpack from under the chair.

Maybe their back is worse even than mine. Maybe they have to carry around the few things they own on their back all day. Maybe they knew needed some cash and were hoping to luck out. Maybe they were just jealous, or tired, or compensating for another need. Maybe it just happened, with no reason.

Things outside of my reason are unsettling. They reveal my fears.

Today I spent most of the day anticipating that something awful had happened to my family because none of them were answering their phones. I honestly panned through scenarios where they were all lost, and I was all alone. It kinda makes you realize what you're putting your hope in.

Things.

I need more of the gospel in my life. In it is a kind of foolishness and lavish wisdom that cannot be understood by human reason or justified with things.

It is whole and complete. It is peace. Rest. Surrender.

A new kind of call to action. The times when I feel worn down and tired in this life are the times when only the mystery of the gospel can renew my hope and passion, giving me new desire for the struggle and joy in my true hope,

Jesus.

Take my life and let it be
Consecrated, Lord, to Thee;
Take my hands and let them move
At the impulse of Thy love.
Take my feet and let them be
Swift and beautiful for Thee;
Take my voice and let me sing,
Always, only for my King.
Take my lips and let them be
Filled with messages from Thee;
Take my silver and my gold,
Not a mite would I withhold.
Take my moments and my days,
Let them flow in endless praise;
Take my intellect and use
Every pow’r as Thou shalt choose.
Take my will and make it Thine,
It shall be no longer mine;
Take my heart, it is Thine own,
It shall be Thy royal throne.
Take my love, my Lord, I pour
At Thy feet its treasure store;
Take myself and I will be
Ever, only, all for Thee.

old soul.

2009-08-03T16:04:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I feel like I have an old soul.

I feel this increasing connection with and longing for relationship to those who lived two generations before me, or perhaps even farther back than that.

I know I am inextricably linked to my generation. I show all the signs of a post-modern young adult who reads books about justice and social causes and joins in social movements and has too many conversations about the philosophies of equality and the reality of poverty in our world for my limited experience in it. I own a mac and an ipod and a cell phone and use all three to keep me 'connected' to the outside world. I love documentaries but can't remember the details of most political events that have taken place in the last 100 years that didn't involve some sort of grassroots effort. I'm fascinated by mechanization but hate consumerism, modernism, and the gluttony of wealth, power and the contortions of the 'American dream'.

At the same time, I view the world first and foremost through a lens of reformed christian faith. I know I am totally unlovable and desperate in life and death without the mysterious and unending love of God, the sacrifice of his son Jesus and the radical indwelling of his Holy Spirit in me. I am working out my salvation in this life, trying to keep my vision set upon heaven and participating in Christ's bringing of his kingdom to earth. I have little interest in tradition for the sake of tradition, but I value the rich history of theology that my brothers and sisters have been struggling with for centuries before I.

I look forward to motherhood and homemaking and choosing them over a career, or rather as a career. I want to be immersed in city life, but with an endeavor to create small community life. I have little interest in things, in money, and I wish I had less interest in being appreciated and praised. I'm a work in progress, yet I am also living out of a transformed heart, once and for all. I have as much admiration for Luther, Calvin, Bonhoeffer, Mark Dever and Tim Keller as I do for Wendell Berry, Gary Haugen, Jim Wallace, Donald Miller and Marva Dawn. I have a passion for justice simply because it is the essence of God's character and I want to desire him more than anything else. I am increasingly frustrated by a culture that clings to the ideologies of two political parties that have way more in common than they would ever admit and spend way more money electing themselves to office than they do serving those they lord over. I don't fit in this 'spectrum'. I don't want to.

I want to have honest conversations and honest living. I want 'the good old days'. Farms, living off of the land and the money you earned. No credit. Little debt. Sharing what you have, depending on others' generosity. Growing the food you eat, wearing the clothes you sew. Not exploiting thousands worldwide in order to keep up with consumerism. No, small communities and small businesses. Family. Sustainability. Contentment.

So I want something I've never experienced. Something idyllic, perhaps?

It may be just a reaction. Just the idealism of youth.

Still, I would rather the idealism of youth when I'm young than the cynicism and hardness of the aged. I would really prefer to stop seeing them as such. I would love to glean their wisdom, the fullness of their lives. Their knowledge of God.

I would like a mentor. Or an army of them.

I need their lives and lessons to help me figure out this marriage of old and new, without finding moderation. I am not looking for a balance but something altogether different. Pleasing the masses does not satisfy. It cannot. By its nature, such living negates authentic pursuit of life. How I want to pursue life! I long to be singleminded for Christ. To be wholehearted in love. Unending in grace.

To need Jesus.

~~~

Teach me work that honors Thy work,

the true economies of goods and words,

to make my arts compatible

with the songs of local birds.

Teach me patience beyond work

and, beyond patience,

the blest Sabbath of Thy unresting love

which lights all things and gives rest

- Sabbaths 2002 'X', Wendell Berry

~~~

Jesus's message, which is "the gospel," is a completely different spirituality. The gospel of Jesus is not a religion or irreligion, morality or immorality, moralism or relativism, conservatism or liberalism. Nor is it something halfway along a spectrum between two poles - it is something else altogether. This gospel is distinct... in its view, everyone is wrong, everyone is loved, and everyone is called to recognize this and change.

- Prodigal God, Tim Keller

emotions. and pants

2009-07-31T18:46:00.001-07:00

I have them. I wear them.

Often at the same time.

I had a draft of a blog written up tonight that explored my desire for cross-generational community. I think it's some good thoughts, but also some that aren't fully fleshed out yet, so I saved it and put on a movie.

Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants.

I cried. Multiple times. Judge away.

I don't express my emotions well. Actually that isn't true. I do express my emotions in my passions, in conversations, in arguments, in writing. I suppose it's more methodical than spontaneous. And let's be honest, it's just not in me to emote visibly and excessively. My energies are used up elsewhere.

Still, as I sat watching this fairy tale of a film, crying over the story of loss, friendship, love, death, family and coming of age - I had to question why I found it powerful enough to draw tears.

It was real. Messy. I can see bits of myself in the stories, the characters.

Today, I feel loneliness. A longing for family. A love of public transit. A hate of public transit. Appreciation for the wisdom of my elders. Wishing my grandpa was still alive. Insecurity about how I look. About my relationships. A desire for real wisdom. Fear for the future. Simple joy while jumping in rain puddles. Missing good friends.

And so, more of my day is made up of and dictated by emotions that I expected. With a list like this, I would expect myself to be still 13 and a hormonal mess. Scarily enough, I think I appear fairly sane and reasonable most days.

I don't really know if that's a good thing. It is a good thing that I'm coming to accept and understand who I am, not as a collection of what other people think about me, but because I can see myself out of who God says I am.

And also because I've been away from everything I love all summer and I've had some time to think on it.

I can't wait to be back, back to home, to family, to school, to friends, to class, to the general messiness of life that I've had this brief hiatus from.

When I am back, when I am 'home' and struggling with what that word means; help me peel back the layers of 'safe' and 'sane' Julianne. Help me to tell the story of what God is doing in Portland, and graciously, in me. And promise you'll tell me your story. I want to hear, to dwell upon, to invest in, your emotions. Your life.

Community might be my new favorite thing.

10 days!

the mess of love

2009-07-26T10:09:00.000-07:00

I feel restless today.

Our sermon this morning was on humility - amazing how God works these themes into my life over and over when he's trying to make his point. I am so grateful for God's patient and persistent pursuit of my heart, but there are times when I feel like I'm on overload by all that he is teaching me.

I'm grappling with my pride and selfishness, with my longing for my family and my inadequacies in so many areas - namely being the friend and sister I want to be and serving and loving in a truly humble way. I can't come to terms with the culture I live in, the social values of consumerism and exploitation and injustice that rule our world - but I struggle to present a reasonable alternative. I'm trying to wrap my head around the opportunities I've had to share the mystery of the gospel this week, and how inadequate I feel to do it justice. I'm wrestling with my fallenness and the extravagant grace that has been lavished upon me anyway. I want reconciliation in brokenness, vulnerability in community, sustainability in love.

All these things are filling up my head and heart and overflowing into conversations but I feel like I'm not getting anywhere. I know that isn't true, I see the evidence of grace in my life and even as I read about Jesus' mission in the gospel of John I get swept up in the story of his love for us and I know I'm being transformed. So why the restlessness?

In two weeks I'll leave Portland, perhaps forever - my work here will soon be forgotten, the time spent building relationships will fade to memories and lives will carry on. In a month I'll be moving back to Trinity for a crazy semester exploring intentional community and discipleship. I'll be doing coursework, working on my capstone project, plugging back in at church, running errands, getting swept up again in college culture - and then three months later it will all be over. I'll move downtown, intern until may, graduate and then...

Then I'll get back to trusting Jesus?

I don't want my life to be comprised of the things I do. I want it to be comprised of the people I serve. The people that I put before myself. As I wrestle with the global economy and consumerism and how to live in a way that really honors our enormous God and loves the nearly 7 billion other people on this planet, by my actions - I know nothing more than that God is constant and unchanging. If those two ideas seem disjointed, spend a full minute or two watching the world population ebb and flow on one of those online calculators. The vast number of people being added to this earth every minute is staggering, but it's equally humbling to watch the number dip down every once in a while. To realize that each minute there are people who are passing from life here to life eternal. The brevity of it all is a bit startling.

In fact, it makes it seem laughable that I would waste precious years - years because all these moments of julianne-centric living are adding up - of my life concerned with my own well being rather than wholly consumed with love for others.

"O righteous Father, even though the world does not know you, I know you, and these know that you have sent me. I made known to them your name, and I will continue to make it known, that the love with which you have loved me may be in them, and I in them." John 17: 25-26

Thank you for letting me share this with you. I know these are nothing more than poorly constructed thoughts on a screen - but they have helped even now to reorient my vision towards the only one who deserves to captivate it. I do very much want to share more of what I am learning about worker justice through my time here, but the bits and pieces of insight pale in comparison to the effort of communicating what our great God is doing in my heart and in Portland! Plus, I think it's a sort of a proper prioritizing when it comes down to it. Whatever wisdom I may gain about how to serve in a world of injustice is useless if I do not know Justice and keep him as my guide and rear guard!

my dear brothers and sisters, the greatest of these is love.

more lessons in humility

2009-07-23T08:49:00.000-07:00

For the last year and half I've been playing some sort of very unfun game of chutes and ladders.

With my body.

It all started with one long chute to the Palos ER freshman year with dizziness and back pain and has continued on it's joyride from one doctor to another, even including some fun circusy tilt tests which ultimately concluded I had vertigo. It was a blessing to have a diagnosis. It's been a blessing to have good health care to afford the pills that can pretty well control it. It's a strange but great joy to be able to wake up some days and run a few miles, or hike with friends, or simply go about a normal day - after a week out of commission.

But the game has continued.

What had been short spells of bad days have turned into much longer and worse bad days, and what were pretty significant periods of good days have shrunk to be one or two in a week.

This summer, particularly, has been a trying one as my back has continued to cause me a lot of pain and has interfered with not just the fun things of summer but also my internship responsibilities.

I'm writing today to ask you to petition Jesus with me. Please pray for healing but more importantly, pray for greater trust in what God is doing in me and joy in the process. Pray that through this, I will see less of me and more of God and grow in my capacity to love others.

I have always been an incredibly independent person. I love routine and structure and being outdoors and packing my days full of great times with great people. This game has some rules about those things, and I'm finally starting to comply with them, but it's not so fun. I find myself all too easily getting incredibly frustrated with myself and angry with my circumstances. I have so much I want to do in life and I've found myself starting to doubt God's plan for me because it isn't following the course I think my passions should be taking me.

I am tired of this game.

But, I am in awe to find people playing with me. I'm amazed to look over and see others living out their struggles alongside me; sharing joys and trials, finding hilarity rather than irritation in the situations which shoot us 15 spaces back, or ever farther. How God blesses me with such community. It may not heal my back or illuminate the future, but as long as I'm this side of glory - it offers me joy and a greater understanding of what life with Christ will be like. It helps me remember that I am quite needy - needy for God's grace and salvation, and needy for the hospitality and care of friends he's placed in my life. Neediness is not a high virtue in our culture, but I think that perhaps neediness that leads to humility might be just what will sustain us as we play this game.

John Piper has written "Humility does not try to save face. It is quick to admit its own finitude and imperfection and stubbornness."

Well, to say I have been stubborn is the understatement of the year, and I am much more imperfect and finite than I can fully grasp. So great is grace and community in light of such admission!

My dear friends, I have much to tell you about what I am learning about worker justice, and I cannot wait to have those conversations with you in person soon! Pray that humility would take root in my heart, so that I can share what great things the Lord has done in me this summer without being clouded over by frustrations about my health and circumstances.

God is so good, and greatly to be praised!

I once was blind, but now I see. seeing jesus.

2009-07-16T19:13:00.000-07:00

To preface this post, I'm currently waiting for a few Tylenol pms to kick in and so when I read this post again in the morning it's quite likely it'll have more than a few grammatical errors and several derailed trains of thought; but with the events of the past few days I'm more than due to write a follow-up to the post from earlier this week.

I had said something to the effect of feeling just around the corner from understanding something new and great about God.

I'd like to revise that concept. I keep thinking of Romans 1:18-21 which explains that what can be known about God has been made clear since the creation of the world in the things that have been made. It goes on to say that those who deny and suppress God's truth are without excuse because what can be known about God has been known in things that they clearly can see and experience all the days of their lives.

Tuesday evening on my way home from work on the Westbrook #4 bus I encountered one of those created truths about God. That one about him being in all things, particularly those people that he created in his very own image.

Yeah. Jesus was on the bus.

Last week I was listening to Francis Chan's book Crazy Love (which is also still free for download) and his challenge to see every person as if they were Jesus himself walking into our lives has stuck with me.

Usually the bus during rush hour is a lot of eco-conscious business people. They've got on business clothes which, I mean it is Maine, so it's still pretty casual - but you can certainly distinguish them from the unemployed or the large population of those on disability as they carry all their workly possessions in a sustainable, trendy and overpriced messenger bags and backpacks (mine included). But, for whatever reason, this #4 bus missed the memo. It was half white collar and half thankful not to be shirtless.

Enter Jesus.

Two adults with some kind of developmental disabilities got on the bus and sat down across from me. The woman had a cane and her husband or boyfriend helped her to a seat where they began chatting about the day. The man with her was so attentive and gentle as he helped her get settled in and held her bags.

A little boy probably about 5 or 6 years old who was completely covered in dirt and grime - the kind that comes from a week of blissful boyhood and no bathing - plopped down next to me with his fishing rod and a shaws bag of various trinkets. His two brothers and exhausted looking dad sat down near by.

Two 20s somethings got on the bus with some pretty awesome dreds and giant backpacks that seemed to have seen a lot of the world. But I don't think these were hipsters doing some hostel traveling after college. I'm pretty sure they were homeless and trying to find a place to stay for the night. They mentioned something to the bus driver about having a connection in so. portland - a place to stay for the night. There was only one empty seat left just in front of me and next to a woman in a sort of l.l. bean pantsuit. The guy let his girlfriend have the seat and the nice corporate woman made an exaggerated gesture of giving her more than enough room.

A teenage boy came running up the bus swearing loudly about not having enough for fare and shouting at his friend to loan him a quarter so he could pay for his ride. Eventually another rider, one of the two sitting across from me, offered him the change. The kid sat down and started to hand out pieces of gum to the dad and his sons. Then he told them to "take a few more" because "one never really does the trick". The boys were thrilled!

The teenager and the family began chatting about the fishing adventure the man and his sons had had. Although, while I call it an adventure it seems like this may be a daily routine. The little boy next to me was so proud to announce he had caught 5 mackerel that day which they sold for a dollar each to tourists who use them for bait.

A days' work for 5 dollars. It costs $1.25 for adults and $1 for kids to ride the bus home. So that left this family with a grand total of .75 cents from their daily work.

Before I got on the bus, I was planning to head to a local coffeeshop to buy something to cool off with. I mean it was fair trade and locally owned coffee, a nice gesture of goodwill really. After all, I'd been working in a hot office for 8 hours and was exhausted. I'd earned a nice treat.

And then I met Jesus in the bus. And Jesus couldn't pay the bus fare. He couldn't get a job because he was taking care of three kids who aren't in school all summer. Jesus needed a cane to walk and Jesus didn't own a toothbrush. Jesus didn't even have a place to sleep for the night and only one sort of acquaintance in the next 100 miles.

Maybe it is a bit sacrilegious to think of our holy holy God in such simple and human terms, but I'm not so sure. I think that maybe I'm starting to believe that Jesus did become man not just to give us some great stories in my nice leather bound bible or so we'd have something to celebrate instead of materialism at Christmas - but maybe it was so we could actually identify with his offer of salvation, because he was first identifying with us.

My head is still very full. I've always felt sure of so many things, felt I had answers to large life questions. I'm not so sure anymore. I don't know what the solution to such poverty in Portland is. That bus had a lot of poverty, not just regarding those who had little wealth, but also those who had much and were paralyzed by it.

Like me.

I got a bit of a vision of community work to come. Of riding public transit and meeting Jesus and inviting him to my house to eat with me. Inviting him to crash on my couch or my floor and to use my shower. A vision to love.

It's a little bit scary. It's a lot exciting.

It's Jesus, living with me much more visibly than I've ever realized before and teaching me so much about himself and who he created me to be and even how I can respond to him.

kind of awesome huh?

Where are you seeing Jesus?

John 9:39-41 "For judgement I came into this world that the blind would see and that those who see will become blind"

I just got lost.

2009-07-13T19:13:00.000-07:00

I'm in a weird kind of funk this week. One where my head is so full of different thoughts and passions and ideas and convictions and struggles and joys and conversations that I am really struggling to nail down any one theme or arrive at any conclusions. I've been journaling pages and pages and enjoying the wisdom of wonderful mentors, pastors and friends and spending more time than ever simply dwelling with Jesus. On Sunday, the mentoring pastor of my church here preached about John's love for Jesus and how his entire life focus was on again dwelling with him. He was truly oriented toward heaven in a way I'm just beginning to understand.

Sometimes I honestly worry about loving Jesus too much. I worry that if I really give him my whole heart and am only concerned with giving him the glory he deserves that I might miss out on the other things of life. I worry that I'll miss out on opportunities to help discern my 'calling' - experiences that will lead me to a job or a husband or a part of a country where I'll spend the next years of my life. I realize it's completely inconsistent with what love for Jesus actually is: surrendering my life so he can actually make it worth living.

But here I am struggling. Sometimes I feel like I experience joy with God in these little glimmers that pass on before I can really get a look at them. It's like sitting with your back to a window at night while cars drive by and their headlights shine briefly into the room. It's a bit blinding for a moment - you can't help but notice it - but by the time you turn to look at what it is the car's long gone down the road, around a bend and out of sight. Still, the memory remains and it may even take a moment to reorient yourself back to the dim light of the room.

All that to say, I know that unlike a phantom car on a dark night God is ever present with us, and by his Spirit in us. But I find that just as sometimes he allows me to experience him in the fullness of his beauty (which, I have to believe is only the tiniest fraction of his glory because I couldn't possible stand to see the full face of God), he also allows me these momentary glimmers of what the fullness of love and truth will look like.

Perhaps I'm the only one who experiences those shimmers of God's beauty but I find them both incredibly encouraging and frustratingly difficult to handle as I struggle to sort through this mess of thoughts on everything from community to secular humanistic faith to community development to healthcare reform to dating relationships to how to be a good long distance sister to understanding the people of Israel to wondering where 'home' is to wishing I knew more, said less, articulated better and loved more fully.

I think I can illustrate it best with a bike ride I took tonight. I've discovered I can bike with almost no back pain afterwards(!) so I mapped out a great little 3 mile pre-dinner ride around the neighborhood and set off. It was great. Perfect weather, breezy, gorgeous almost-sunset sky.

Then I came to my first turn. It was supposed to be just before the interstate, thus avoiding the heavy traffic and moving into a quiet residential area. Well, I began to doubt my ability to really remember the map and got nervous about being on such a busy road and so I chose to deviate from the plan a bit and took the nearest turn down a residential road.

And so began a 30 min maze of winding back upon myself on curvy roads and dead ends. It was a pleasant enough ride but it began to get a bit dark and I began to get a little worried I might not find my way back home. I normally pride myself on being directionally savvy, but tonight I was getting hopelessly turned around. Even after getting back to the main street I felt disoriented and turned back into the windy neighborhood ( smart huh?). Eventually, after nearly plowing over an elderly couple and getting directions, I was soon to be home. But as you can see:

I took possibly the most round about way home. I was fearful of what was ahead and so instead of trusting what the map said I decided to forge my own way. I eventually got back home but I could have gone much further and seen much more if I hadn't been doubling back on myself so often and been so burdened by fear of being lost. Several times I was just one short street away from the one that would lead me home, but then I chose to turn the opposite direction.

Tonight I feel I'm just a short street away from understanding something more about God and how I might serve him. I'm praying I don't waste time veering aside, thinking I know the best way to learn what he has to teach me.

Humility. Perhaps that's what this all comes down to. Humility and glimmers of truth.

stumbling into community

2009-07-06T18:20:00.000-07:00

I got to take a mini retreat this weekend and enjoy some lovely down time with a good friend in some of God's beautiful creation. Sadly, I didn't really realize how much I was in need of a time-out until half way through the bus ride home on Sunday night.

I'm kind of a slow learner. I'm also a pretty sinful person.

See, last week I was pretty miserable with back pain and pretty drained of energy. By the time friday rolled around I was getting ready for the trip like it was any other chore - and found myself increasingly irritated with my really great roommate for her enthusiasm and excitement about taking off for the weekend. She was playing some crazy tunes and getting amped up to see her friend and visit a new city and I was sulking. I really ran the gamut of emotions over the next 24 hours, from visibly irritated to sugary sweet to annoyed to impatient to pompous - you name it, I'm ashamed to say I've been there. But Friday morning I got on the bus, popped in my earbuds to tune out everything around me, and started listening to the book Crazy Love (it's free for download this month!). Kind of ironic, given the circumstances, but it's even better because I totally tried to pull the holier than thou attitude. Sad.

So we arrive in Boston, Mackenzie and I parted ways for the weekend (and I was actually prideful enough to thank God for some time alone with my friend. unbelievable), she to her friend's house and myself off with Lauren. I immediately started whining to Lauren about how much I need a break from my roommate, how I am so tired of being stuck in that house and sick of my work and so overwhelmed by the differences between Mackenzie and I. It continued this way most of the weekend - I was quick to pounce upon any opportunity to bemoan my circumstances to a listening ear. It's pathetic really, and I knew it was wrong and rooted in my own insecurities. In fact, it was weighing heavily on my soul as I sat reading scripture and praying beside a beautiful beach - trying to create a nice "God moment". So I asked God to forgive me and help me to work on my anger and frustration; and I thanked him for some "much needed time away".

But God won't be fooled. He gladly works his love in my heart and soul, but repentance is nothing if not followed by a changed heart and I definitely didn't want to change. I wanted to whine. I, Julianne, child of the living and most high God, saved and secured in Christ by his death and resurrection, equipped with the holy spirit and this supernatural and most radiant love - I thought I was more content to whine about my circumstances. Oh the injustice of it all!

So back to that ride home. I was listening to more of this book and was just overcome with God's graciousness towards me. I would love to quote it, but it's really hard to highlight books on tape and I think I'm just going to have to go buy this one at some point. It was something to the effect of describing everything we expect heaven to be - the peace and joy and wholeness and eternal life and beauty, and then asking if I would be content in this place if I knew Jesus were not there. I was taken aback. I've had so many conversations with Chris about how we serve a God of Justice, not of injustice. That even in the most just of circumstances I would be equally passionate about glorifying God for his justice - and yet if I was honest with myself, I would be totally content with a perfect "earth" sans Christ. It's hard to even re-type this thought process, I'm in tears even now as I have to come to terms with the sin and pride that is in this heart - how pompous to think for even a moment that I am self-sufficient!

Oh God's great mercy on me! I do not deserve it. I scarcely can turn my thoughts toward it. And so I turned off the book and began to pour my heart before this glorious God, and he answered me with a hour of beautiful sunset over streams and forests and a sky of radiant magenta and glowing orange and wispy blues. And then the words came as he told me he loved me and had a great plan for me, and reminded me of how he's been so faithful to me and will help me refine my heart. Then he reminded me, so gently and with such love and understanding, that I needed to ask for Mackenzie's forgiveness. Part of me was paralyzed, even knowing that she is so generous and forgiving, just to reveal to her my sin and immaturity.

Mackenzie showed me more Christ in two sentences that I had shown her in a week. She told me not to worry about it, but that she was thankful to me for bringing it up. She told me to let her know if I needed space. Such grace.

So I'm the community minded one. I'm the girl who loves to push people past what they're comfortable with, to challenge them beyond their comfort zones and easy friendships and press for something deeper. I'm the girl who wasted a whole lot of air this weekend whining about a really lovely girl who I am truly honored to spend this summer with.

Friends, I feel convicted to share my heart with you. Not the pretty and successful stories of christian faith, but the reality of my life in Christ. Forgive me for not being more honest about who I truly am - one dead in my sin but now radiantly alive in the living God! I do long for real and difficult and Christ-like community, and when I don't long for it, I want to want to long for it. It's a messy longing and I certainly don't have it all figured out but I do have the gospel. More than that, I have the gospel alive in me - and I know God is working with me on my sin and loves me not for my efforts but for his sacrifice. Please challenge me to examine my heart, especially when you see me blinded and suffocating in my sin. I'm not just asking. It's an expectation, and a desperate need.

I want more in friendships. If you consider me a friend, I need you to be real with me. I'm not saying this to put the blame of my sin on someone else or to shift responsibility of pursuing Christ-likeness. But I do know who I am and I am not lovely. I'm not a good person. I'm a child of Christ, my savior, who has surrounded me with such incredible friends and filled my life with many new bits of community. May we bring those seedlings to fruition by serving one another with authentic community and real love.

Will you join me?

Now to him who is able to keep you from stumbling and to present you blameless before the presence of his glory with great joy, to the only God, our Savior, though Jesus Christ our Lord, be glory, majesty, dominion, and authority, before all time and now and forever!

Jude 1:24-25

I might be blind.

2009-06-29T18:48:00.000-07:00

Today was an intense day. It started off so unassuming. It was pouring all morning, I didn't sleep well last night and was stumbling around this morning getting ready for work, catching the bus, settling in at the office. Three of the four interviews I scheduled for today were no-shows, so there goes all of thursday and fridays work from last week. Awesome right? Mondays are the best.

By about 3 we were all ready to call it quits for the day; and then I had a little breakthrough with interviews. I set off in the never ending june showers to try and track down those no shows to reschedule and ended up at this unique little shop that specialized in all things fair trade. Of course, I've been eyeing the place since we got here because of all the info about co-ops and fair trade products, despite continuing to hear less than impressive things about the management of the place. I walk up, introduce myself, start my schpeel, and then get cut off and asked to never set foot in his establishment again. Interestingly enough, as I start to apologize the owner launches into what would be an hour long tirade about everything from minimum wage laws to unions to his experiences with fair trade farmers to the inadequacy of job training to my apparent close mindedness to his equating my affiliation with a labor movement to his potential interest in a white supremacy group - and why would I want to speak to him if he was so close minded? - to his clear business philosophy towards serving others and his disgust of money and profits. This guy was just all over the place. He wanted to talk, and so I listened.

And finally at the end of an hour, I walked away having somehow irritated him just enough to secure his possible participation in a further conversation (read: rant) about his experiences.

It wore me out, that one. I can't recall the last time someone, anyone, let alone a stranger, judged me so quickly and found me fit to attack based purely on assumptions and suppositions. It was startling and intense and overwhelming and then it was over. As I walked back to the office so drained and with a head swimming full of questions and frustrations a man named Tyrick walked up to me and asked me for help with his bus fare. He was staggering around a little bit as he explained to me his need to get to Boston to get his new state ID card and then connect with family there that he can live with. His eyes were bright as he passionately told me all about his siblings and cousins and nieces and nephews and glory days as a boxer and trying to make it on the streets so far from home. All I had to offer was a buck, but I asked him if I could pray for him and he immediately reached for my hand and said "shoot sister, do it!" So I got to petition the Lord for his safety and quick arrival in boston, for unity with his family and their ability to help him with his needs. We chatted for a few more minutes and then I was off again, head still swimming, still no answers nor any real way to express all the crazy conversation that had taken place over the past hour and a half. It's a weird feeling to experience something so confrontational and feel inept to express or process it...and then immediately experience something so fundamental and simple that it needs no words or processing.

These are relationships.

I still continue to struggle with the ethical implications of the work that workers centers are doing around policy issues - about how much the government can and should be doing to regulate worker's affairs. I still feel so strongly that communities need to own their issues and work through them on a personal level without any outside value judgements or assertions or programs or policies. Yet we live in a world that reeks of injustice and submits to the rulers of our states for some sort of solution.

And these are relationships.

Relationships I have with a homeless man on the street outside the store of a man who is convinced he's following a moral call to serve men such as these (but not this these) living in a community of workers who must rely on the goodwill of their employer to cover the gaps in legal practices while the manager is just trying to stay afloat in an economy affected by not just their competitors but national events which are guided and interpreted and sometimes exacerbated by media involvement which is, at it's core, simply communication of the events of life from one person in one experience to millions worldwide. A sort of community?

I'm not even sure. But what it boils down to is this: my only (seriously) confidence rests in hope of salvation, a hope and joy that can allow plenty of grace for a man who judges me to be the most despicable kind of wretch - because I am, and I am much worse that even that. I'm refreshed to remember that my life is not my own and yet God is leading me so faithfully exactly where he intends that I might speak truth and live love in relationships. I may never understand or wrap my head around these experiences or formulate some theologically sound response to such a barrage, and honestly, that scares me. Lots.

But it's bringing me to a place where I can need God, again, today. I forget so quickly that I need him in every breath, every thought and movement. I so easily build a life that is secure and settled to a point that I don't need such moment to moment dependancy upon my Jesus.

So the truth is, I'm needy. I'm highly incompetent and sinful and lost and confused and messy. You probably know this, but I'm just starting to understand. At the same time, I'm also loved more than I can begin to fathom or express or revel in. Love resides in me, purely and simply.

As God told Israel so many years ago, and continues to speak in whispers and shouts and songs and hurricanes upon my heart this week:

"I will lead the blind in the way that they do not know, in paths that they have not known I will guide them. I will turn the darkness before them into light, the rough places into level ground. " isaiah 42:16

I am the blind, and it's not cruelty but grace that is guiding me in an unknown path.

I don't have the answers for these large life questions, but I truly believe beyond the shadow of any of my doubts that the hope of the gospel offers life for all and will transform our world. May we be fully present in the kingdom of God now!

Be loved with such love that cannot be contained. Bask in it. Be drenched with it. May it radiate through you and into your relationships, and rejoice for the Kingdom of God is here!

family.

2009-06-22T19:03:00.000-07:00

What does the word family bring to mind? I mean really. When you really stop to think, setting aside whatever else is on your mind or your computer screen: what is family? - what images and words and textures and feelings and smells and memories come to mind?

Most of the time, my mind immediately jumps to our kitchen at home. It's dinner time. It's loud and chaotic and kids are running in and out of the sliding glass door to the patio and tattling on one another and the neighbor kids get sent home and the radio is playing and the boys are ambling around the kitchen snacking and goofing off and getting in the way and being scolded for not setting the table and Mom has got every cabinet door open and two things going on the stove and another in the oven and the microwave is beeping and dad gets home and then everything really gets going as a call goes out for dinner and after the fourth or fifth attempt everyone manages to get in the kitchen at the same time and maybe only one or two things get knocked over in trying to seat everyone around our too small table and then finally, there's a brief pause and someone asks whose turn it is to pray. And so we do. And then we eat.

And that's family.

But family is also moving to a new city and seeing God at work in the lives of a bunch of strangers you're thrown together to live with and being so blessed to be a part of his good good work even though you feel completely uprooted and inadequate to serve them and you're craving christian fellowship and community and so you email a random church and three people email you back and two call and then a great young couple come and pick you up on fathers day with their adorable 12 week old newborn and bring you to a fantastic community that meets in a tiny elementary school lunch room way up high on a hill overlooking the bay and you meet just about everyone there in about five minutes and they all invite you over for lunch that afternoon and so after listening to a great and convicting sermon and worshiping your great God you go and drive to a farm with some Iowan transplants who happen to know what reformed theology is and love salt and vinegar chips and then you meet a mom with three little boys and a vase full of tadpole frogs on her kitchen table and you sit and you chat with some great women and they draw you in as if they've known you for years and the men grill and the women make tea and laugh together and dream a little bit about what God might be doing with their church this year and how they can serve others and you find yourself swept up in such love and hospitality and full of a thankfulness that just doesn't have words and you listen to children giggle and shriek outside and help them make hot dogs and thank God for such fellowship. And then you eat.

And so. It would seem that family might equal eating in my mind. Which is not quite what I was expecting but given the circumstances of my eating with such wonderful people, I suppose that this conclusion is satisfactory.

I'm finding family here in the loveliest of ways. God is at work in the hearts in portland and in those far far away and somehow sees fit to bless me by allowing me to take part in their joy by watching his good work.

I'm blessed. And if you might pray for me today, thank God for blessing me so richly, probably by even allowing me the honor of seeing his goodness revealed in your own heart and life - a great joy of friendship and familyship no matter how far from home I might be!

What a crazy good God loves us!

raindrops keep falling on my head...so this is portland!

2009-06-19T11:30:00.000-07:00

It's a rainy day today in Portland.

Here at work, my desk looks out over one of the main streets through this huge bay window, providing the perfect opportunity for people watching. It seems strange to me how many people walk and bike about without raincoats or umbrellas on this chilly and wet afternoon. Their jeans are soaked through as they plod along in their LL Bean boots with green City of Portland issue recycling bags full of collected cans, or canvas shopping bags from Paul's food center or the Cigaret Shopper (proving you can be eco-conscious while destroying your own lungs...but I digress).

Is it because they don't own rain gear? Is it too cumbersome to carry an umbrella around town? Perhaps they weren't expecting the rain? Maybe. But I think most likely this rainy day is just inconsequential in the spectrum of rainy days in Portland. What is to me dreary and endless drizzle is nothing more than a simple summer shower for these seasoned Mainers (their title of choice).

And so I'm back in the position of an outsider looking in. I observe, critique, adjust, examine, discuss and dwell among people who have different quirks and patterns than I'm used to. And in the midst of it, I'm here to serve and work among the people who are native to this community. What I find odd they find natural. They've long since adapted to and created the norms and called it home.

Surprisingly, I'm finding it easier and easier to cope with, the more I throw myself among strangers. I'm gain such comfort and strength and vision in passages like 1 Peter 2:9-12. I am nothing more than a sojourner in this world, and nothing less than a child of God's glorious kingdom coming to earth!

As I've settled in here and begun to find my place in a new community, I'm continually in awe of the opportunities to boldly speak about the gospel. My roommate's supervisor is fascinated by "evangelicals" and continues to ask me questions about what drives such faith, how it plays out in concerns of justice, how to engage with this community, where I fit into it - and so I get to speak such fantastic truth over and over again! Even the things I have come to accept as norms, - like thanking God for a meal before I eat, or finding time to quiet myself and read my bible - are actions that speak loudly of God's grip on me. How blessed we are to serve a God who loves to meet us in every avenue of life!

Although I often find myself judging people who are inconsistent in their actions and words, I don't think I've ever really taken stock of how great an impact actions can have on understanding a person's character. Even among christians, I rarely encounter such acceptance and interest in study of scripture and a passionate faith - and yet here I meet that sort of response over the simplest things, from expressing interest in finding a local church to saying a prayer before a meal. We, the church, have much to learn from those outside the influence of our dogma if we are to truly be salt and light in a world longing for hope in truth.

This post is winding far from my original intent - to simply observe that I'm doing ok with the adjustment to Portland thus far, even though the culture is much different and the experience beyond what I could have planned for or expected.

I'm enjoying the slower pace of life. My work day doesn't start until 10, when Mackenzie and I arrive at the office (often before anybody else). We usually spend about an hour chatting, planning for the day, tying up loose ends from the day before. Then we start to work on projects, but workers and other staff drop by to chat about projects and experiences in the local industry. The work I'm doing this month is focused on conducting 35 employer interviews over the next few weeks to better understand their perspective on the industry's issues, particularly how they perceive worker issues and what their concerns are. It's so encouraging to see my coursework be put to practice in real life in an avenue I am actually super pumped about! Kendra...I even have hours of transcribing in my future...sans the old school recording equipment. :)

Our office houses the Southern Maine Workers Center (which birthed ROC about a year ago), the ROC-ME office and a healthcare reform campaign. But by office, I mean we all work out of one room a little larger than my dorm living room. It's cozy and sometimes a little loud, but generally pretty swell. Mackenzie and I are working on different projects, she's much more involved in getting local faith leaders to sign onto the Employee Free Choice Act, an act that will help workers to more easily organize in pursuit of living wages, fair treatment, benefits and generally more workable relationships between employee and employer without the intimidation about pursuing such rights.

I'm still at a place where I have a lot to learn and develop about my perspective towards government oriented community organizing versus locally oriented community development. I'm thankful for the opportunity to be in this position, learning so much and able to practice so much of what I'm learning.

Thank you for your prayers and encouragement...please keep it coming! I'm looking forward to working with the local faith community later in the summer, which gives me a bit more time to study and ground myself in truth, but I would appreciate prayer for continued strength and endurance through new circumstances and the homesickness that will inevitably come. I'm going to try out a church this sunday, called Missio Dei (they're just everywhere!) and I'm hopeful about finding a fantastically gospel oriented community to worship with this summer.

One last thing...I started another blog to document my summer in photos for the summer. check it out!

oh! good news, the rain has stopped - and that staff guy with lots of questions, Paul...be praying for him, alright? He just came over and asked me if he could come to church with me next week. God is just so good!

Day Two

2009-06-10T23:57:00.000-07:00

Day one was real long and real tiring and has sort of melded into day two. So here's an update:

It's wicked hot here. Like 98 degrees with humidity that wraps up your whole body and even your eyeballs
The Tulane campus is absolutely gorgeous, with open courtyards everywhere and fantastic buildings with walls of windows to take in all the green! (note: I can't quite shake the colorado/chicago mindset and my first thought about our outdoor hallway dorms was how they keep the snow out in the winter...)
Everyone stays cool with 'air' (aka AC) turned down to roughly 37 degrees
We spend our time in a room with this freezing air doing our training from about 9am until 9pm - learning great things like how to equally distribute oranges (read: what is power) and express the inherent dignity and worth of workers to the faith communities near our sites
My crash course in southern speaking: "Honey" and "Sugar" are ways of greeting strangers you've never met and must be tacked onto the beginning and possibly the end of any question: "Shuga, what can I help you with today honey?"
Cockroaches live in the south. Apparently it's not a sign of being somewhere dirty, just a clue that you're still in the south and you're still five feet below sea level. I'm just glad my bed is lofted.
Internet doesn't reach into our dorms. We all reconvene about 15 minutes after out last session to sit in the dark in the courtyard with the mosquitos and roaches to feed our addictions to facebook, email, and the like

So those are some things I'm doing. Outwardly.

Inwardly, I'm a mess. And I don't have any clever jokes or comments about it, not yet at least.

But I am being refined. I know I am, I must be. I am struggling harder than I have in a long time; and I had thought that I had a rough past 6 months.

I've found myself in a community different from any other I've encountered before. I'm not among people of no faith - nearly all my fellow interns claim some sort of religious affiliation from Islam to Judaism to Christianity and a whole gamut of expressions in-between - but I'm also not among people who know and honor the same God that I do. I'm with this motley crew of people who've signed on to bring justice through interfaith interactions. The problem is, I'm beginning to wonder if it's possible, and more importantly, if it's a biblical or God-honoring pursuit.

Today was particularly difficult but also frighteningly revealing. We had a few sessions about the philosophy of things like work, faith, and power. After much initial frustration, I realized that the basic terms we were all using have much different meaning in this context and conversation than in the conversations I have with friends at church and school. Our speaker today was a bit irritated with me for not agreeing that all truth is relative and constantly being transformed by experience. Well, probably not so much irritated with my disagreement but my challenging his worldview. I could go into so much detail about the nuances of our conversation and the philosophies of an understanding of truth that is not constant, but it's late and I get to wake up to more of it just a few short hours! BUT - I would love to discuss this more, so if you have any insight or thoughts or just a little compassion on my already burnt out soul, call me! I'd love to chat it up a bit.

Anyway, I am struggling with how I can express to my fellow workers how my understanding of grace and salvation permeates everything I do - especially the way I pursue justice for the oppressed - when it is to them, almost a non-issue. I read through much of romans last night (it's incredible how my apathy towards soaking up scripture is absolutely gone and I'm craving and dependent on time in the word!) and was reminded again of the beauty of this relationship we've been grafted into by the grace of God, and how such truth provides new life and purpose. God's been so gracious in giving me opportunities to express my love for him through relationship building today: in conversations with my roommates, and through the excitement of shared passions for social justice concerns, and even in silly laughter over newly formed inside jokes. I'm so thankful to be rooted in Truth, especially when I can feel the yearning for absolutes among my fellow workers and supervisors. It really is amazing to be reminded of the brilliance of light in a dark room.

So this is my dark room. And this is day two. I still have 8 days until I'm officially on the job.

Please pray for increased endurance and stamina to continue engaging in conversations where God's truth is challenged. My brain is tired of 12 hours of constant confrontation, and I'm trying to somehow start developing my own framework for how I'm going to continue engaging these issues and this community all summer in my work. I know the God I serve is doing greater things than I can see, and I'm clinging to his promises. It's certainly humbling to realize that the powers of spiritual warfare are so much stronger than I am alone, and that I must equip myself with truth, arm myself with scripture, and look intently and unwaveringly at the God of my salvation.

Oh my foolish lips that said just three days ago that I was 'ready' to finally be used in doing God's work and bringing his truth and justice to his world. How much I have to learn, and how gracious God is to use me now anyway!

airports

2009-06-09T03:55:00.000-07:00

Airports smell weird early in the morning.

It's 4:55 am. I'm finally on my way!