Friday, January 29, 2016
TGIF!
It's been a good week, and I've been processing many good things. I haven't got time to write them all down this morning, so instead I will share this interesting article I read over breakfast. Enjoy!
Tuesday, January 19, 2016
The Beginning of the End
The first day of my last semester at YDS, and I'm feeling ready.
It's funny how we often don't feel up for a task until it happens. Perhaps we never feel up for it. But ready or not, tasks often come upon us, and it is our duty to fulfill them as best we can.
I'm excited for classes, even if I've had quite enough of the social aspects of Divinity School. May I learn for my own edification and God's glory. May what I learn someday encourage and inspire others!
We had our first rehearsal of the year with Gospel Choir last night. Our director informed us of a health condition that may endanger his hearing. For a musician, that's bad news.
I was reminded of the desire to pursue chaplaincy at some point after Divinity School. But for now, let me focus on the academic excellence that Yale offers. It doesn't always feel practical, but there are practical implications.
My final thought of the morning before I head off to chapel. This word came to me as a mantra for the semester, both in terms of living well in Intentional Community (I share a home with 4 other students, all of whom are under the age of 25) and in terms of serving in Community Life (with some very opinionated and entitled students):
It's funny how we often don't feel up for a task until it happens. Perhaps we never feel up for it. But ready or not, tasks often come upon us, and it is our duty to fulfill them as best we can.
I'm excited for classes, even if I've had quite enough of the social aspects of Divinity School. May I learn for my own edification and God's glory. May what I learn someday encourage and inspire others!
We had our first rehearsal of the year with Gospel Choir last night. Our director informed us of a health condition that may endanger his hearing. For a musician, that's bad news.
I was reminded of the desire to pursue chaplaincy at some point after Divinity School. But for now, let me focus on the academic excellence that Yale offers. It doesn't always feel practical, but there are practical implications.
My final thought of the morning before I head off to chapel. This word came to me as a mantra for the semester, both in terms of living well in Intentional Community (I share a home with 4 other students, all of whom are under the age of 25) and in terms of serving in Community Life (with some very opinionated and entitled students):
Monday, January 18, 2016
Friends, Family, Community
They say that you choose your friends but not your family, and that is why I think many of my Divinity School peers as sisters first and girlfriends second. We became friends because we were all part of the Divinity School family. Time will tell if we remain good girlfriends.
I remember saying to several different people last year that it usually takes me 2 years before I know whether or not someone is a friend--a true friend, the kind you keep in touch with even after parting ways. Until then, I may share a community with people here because we have class together or live together. But that is not so much my choice as the situation in which we find ourselves.
It will be interesting to see who I consider a stay-in-touch friend come graduation. In the meantime, classmates are like family because we're stuck in the same environment and share so much life together.
So, that means that I must learn to keep loving them in spite of their faults and mine. It means that they may not meet my needs, even as they come to me to get their needs met. (Or the reverse.) It means that we must accept one another for who we are, our varying stages in life, and our emotional and intellectual development. It means that even as I am culturally isolated at Yale Divinity School (there is not one single person from Taiwan here, and most Chinese-speaking students were born in Asia rather than the U.S.), I have a spiritual family with whom I have only a few more months to spend.
In the "real world," I would never have had the opportunity to become so close with this diverse a group of friends. I'm going to miss that.
In the "real world," friends are more scattered and not just a few miles or blocks away. I'm going to miss that.
In the "real world," we would not be forced to coexist in such close proximity, and to learn to listen and talk across differences.
I have to admit that it takes humility for me to accept as equals people who are much younger than I am and often don't act as if they appreciate my age or experience. It takes courage for me to speak honestly with people who come from much more privilege and status. But there is grace for us all, and I pray grace for this coming semester. It starts tomorrow!
I remember saying to several different people last year that it usually takes me 2 years before I know whether or not someone is a friend--a true friend, the kind you keep in touch with even after parting ways. Until then, I may share a community with people here because we have class together or live together. But that is not so much my choice as the situation in which we find ourselves.
It will be interesting to see who I consider a stay-in-touch friend come graduation. In the meantime, classmates are like family because we're stuck in the same environment and share so much life together.
So, that means that I must learn to keep loving them in spite of their faults and mine. It means that they may not meet my needs, even as they come to me to get their needs met. (Or the reverse.) It means that we must accept one another for who we are, our varying stages in life, and our emotional and intellectual development. It means that even as I am culturally isolated at Yale Divinity School (there is not one single person from Taiwan here, and most Chinese-speaking students were born in Asia rather than the U.S.), I have a spiritual family with whom I have only a few more months to spend.
In the "real world," I would never have had the opportunity to become so close with this diverse a group of friends. I'm going to miss that.
In the "real world," friends are more scattered and not just a few miles or blocks away. I'm going to miss that.
In the "real world," we would not be forced to coexist in such close proximity, and to learn to listen and talk across differences.
I have to admit that it takes humility for me to accept as equals people who are much younger than I am and often don't act as if they appreciate my age or experience. It takes courage for me to speak honestly with people who come from much more privilege and status. But there is grace for us all, and I pray grace for this coming semester. It starts tomorrow!
Saturday, January 16, 2016
More Remembering
The other piece to remembering why I came to Divinity School is remembering where I came from. I get to do this every time I go home for a break. Seeing old friends and being with family in the place I grew up reminds me of how I became the person I am today.
For example, my parents homeschooled me for 8 years, during which time I had more opportunities to read the Bible than many of my peers. While I tend to bash Christian fundamentalism these days, I also recognize the value of having a Bible-centered education. In New Testament last year, I was able to thoroughly enjoy class discussions and papers, while many of my peers were reading certain passages for the first time and struggled to remember the content of various epistles and distinguish between them.
In my theology coursework, I was exposed to various ways of conceiving of God and our relationship to God. (You can't say "Him" in class, because some people allow for the possibility of God having a female gender. Interestingly, there is Biblical support for that claim!) For class, we read womanist theology and the story of Hagar and Ishmael. I was able to write a paper agreeing with womanist thinking while expanding it based on a detail in Hagar's story that the theologian had failed to address.
My friends at home generally aim to please God through more "conservative" lifestyle choices, which differs from some people at Divinity School. Ever since college, I have had to hold fast to certain personal decisions regardless of what others around me did or thought, and that has been true for this season as well. For whereas I don't believe there is only one right way to live, I know that certain decisions are best for my personal health and faith. When I go home to my friends, I remember why I made those lifestyle choices in the first place and am reminded that there are others doing the same.
Lastly, when I go home, I am surrounded by people who look like me, which is strengthening for my identity. Yale Divinity School often feels like a black and white binary, with Asian students coming from abroad and not really from Asian-American contexts. While I have never quite identified with Asian-American culture in SoCal--I grew up with homeschooled white kids, and my family attended several multi-cultural churches--it's still a part of where I come from.
My hope is to stay in better touch with SoCal folks this semester. My schedule should be less insane, and I will be preparing to leave Divinity School and distance my heart from the bubble-like atmosphere. It will be good for me to constantly remember the places and people who have contributed to the person I am today!
For example, my parents homeschooled me for 8 years, during which time I had more opportunities to read the Bible than many of my peers. While I tend to bash Christian fundamentalism these days, I also recognize the value of having a Bible-centered education. In New Testament last year, I was able to thoroughly enjoy class discussions and papers, while many of my peers were reading certain passages for the first time and struggled to remember the content of various epistles and distinguish between them.
In my theology coursework, I was exposed to various ways of conceiving of God and our relationship to God. (You can't say "Him" in class, because some people allow for the possibility of God having a female gender. Interestingly, there is Biblical support for that claim!) For class, we read womanist theology and the story of Hagar and Ishmael. I was able to write a paper agreeing with womanist thinking while expanding it based on a detail in Hagar's story that the theologian had failed to address.
My friends at home generally aim to please God through more "conservative" lifestyle choices, which differs from some people at Divinity School. Ever since college, I have had to hold fast to certain personal decisions regardless of what others around me did or thought, and that has been true for this season as well. For whereas I don't believe there is only one right way to live, I know that certain decisions are best for my personal health and faith. When I go home to my friends, I remember why I made those lifestyle choices in the first place and am reminded that there are others doing the same.
Lastly, when I go home, I am surrounded by people who look like me, which is strengthening for my identity. Yale Divinity School often feels like a black and white binary, with Asian students coming from abroad and not really from Asian-American contexts. While I have never quite identified with Asian-American culture in SoCal--I grew up with homeschooled white kids, and my family attended several multi-cultural churches--it's still a part of where I come from.
My hope is to stay in better touch with SoCal folks this semester. My schedule should be less insane, and I will be preparing to leave Divinity School and distance my heart from the bubble-like atmosphere. It will be good for me to constantly remember the places and people who have contributed to the person I am today!
Remembering
As I gear up for my final semester at Yale, I remember why I came in the first place.
Whenever people ask me, I tend to give the short answer: I grew up in a Christian family and have been actively involved in my faith ever since. However, I don't have an academic background in religion, and I'd like one.
Of course, there's always a lot more behind a decision as big as relocating across the country to spend one's savings on school.
As my 30th birthday approaches, I am keenly aware of how differently my life has turned out from many of my peers, who have chosen to get married, enter professional careers, and buy homes. I have been blessed to not have to enter debt to get my second master's degree, but I'll be in a different economic bracket from most of my friends by the time I graduate. During this time, it's good for me to recall why I decided to attend Divinity School--and what I'd like to get out of it before I graduate.
In 2012, my family encountered medical, relational, and spiritual crisis. I took a year off going to church--a self-proclaimed "sabbatical"of sorts--and seriously reevaluated a lot of the fundamentalist theology with which I had been raised. It was also around that time that many of the (male and white) Christian leaders I had looked up to started having extramarital affairs exposed, and that was confirmation that there was something wrong with the patriarchy of the conservative church. I voraciously read blogs of Christians who had come out of (were raised in and ultimately left) the conservative and Evangelical church circles, and those writings encouraged me to think more deeply and holistically about my faith.
My heart not only longed to understand more about God's heart for all Christians--not just fundamentalists or conservatives--and I wanted to be exposed to more liturgical (high-church) ways of worship. I had gone to Catholic mass--alone and unencumbered by expectations that often were put on me when I got plugged in to Evangelical church circles--during a time of personal crisis in 2011 and found that I felt more connected to God there than in any other church (with the exception of a Spirit-filled Charismatic church my family attended in the late 1990s). During the crisis of 2012, my mom often played music from Taize on YouTube, as the instrumental accompaniment to voices singing repeated, meditative lyrics seemed more appropriate for a dark spiritual season than upbeat Evangelical worship songs. In short, I was ready to get out of the Christian circles with which I was familiar and to go to a more "liberal" environment where theology was fluid, creative, and intellectually stimulating.
Well, I've gotten what I wanted, and it's made me both broaden my theological views and deepen my personal faith. Contrary to many people think, a liberal Christian education has made me appreciate Scripture even more (rather than devalue its validity); love more openly (rather than become jaded); and cling to God desperately (rather than resting assured that my theology is the best one out there). Each week, I attend 2-3 ecumenical chapel services at school, where students from various denominations gather to offer worship to God in different styles and with different emphases. I have learned to care about social justice issues that my former actively Republican self would have frowned upon. I have made friends who are "red and yellow, black and white," gay, transgender, transsexual, bisexual, conservative, liberal, a dichotomy-defying in-between, in love with Jesus, mad at God, open to the Holy Spirit, and the list goes on.
Previously, in college, I had liberal friends who weren't Christian (mostly from the Thornton School of Music and from Thematic Option honors program) and Conservative Christian friends (in my college fellowship). I never thought that one could be (truly, devotedly) Christian and somewhat liberal--or non-Conservative. Well, it's true, folks. I've seen it with my own eyes.
Friends getting up for morning prayer every day, friends who support or are gay, going out in the New England cold to worship God at 7 am. Friends who are devoting their lives to ministry, even if they don't fully believe (literally) everything the Bible says, because they see a compelling role for religion in society. Friends who choose a life of poverty in order to stand in solidarity with the oppressed. The list goes on.
At the same time, Evangelicals and Conservatives have found a home here, too. My prayer group is comprised of students mostly from the Assemblies of God, a relatively conservative and Pentecostal denomination. My church believes in the power of prayer, in God's word, and in the accountability of community.
The beautiful thing about an ecumenical seminary housed in a larger secular university is that, in order to engage with other denominations and academic disciplines, one is compelled to really figure out one's own background, narrative, and current beliefs. I have discovered that I am an Asian-American woman, saved by God's grace, willing to follow Jesus wherever He goes, and strengthened and led by the unpredictable moving of the Holy Spirit. I love my (Evangelical, Spirit-filled) church, but I also love attending mid-week evening prayer (often in the style of Taize) and observing Eucharist at Catholic or Anglican mass. I am learning just how broad God's love is for all people, and how His heart rejoices at the diverse ways people find to connect to Him and worship Him. I am seeing how futile it is to box God into rigid theology or a brand or culture of Christianity. I am also learning from my peers what conviction is and the price we pay for choosing to go against the grain of our capitalist, material, competitive, and patriarchal society.
I still have so much to learn, and I am looking forward to absorbing as much as I can during my final semester and my 30th year!
**I recognize that "conservative" and "Evangelical" are not necessarily the same thing. Perhaps one day I will write in a way that better distinguishes between the two. Thank goodness this is personal writing and not an academic discussion!
Whenever people ask me, I tend to give the short answer: I grew up in a Christian family and have been actively involved in my faith ever since. However, I don't have an academic background in religion, and I'd like one.
Of course, there's always a lot more behind a decision as big as relocating across the country to spend one's savings on school.
As my 30th birthday approaches, I am keenly aware of how differently my life has turned out from many of my peers, who have chosen to get married, enter professional careers, and buy homes. I have been blessed to not have to enter debt to get my second master's degree, but I'll be in a different economic bracket from most of my friends by the time I graduate. During this time, it's good for me to recall why I decided to attend Divinity School--and what I'd like to get out of it before I graduate.
In 2012, my family encountered medical, relational, and spiritual crisis. I took a year off going to church--a self-proclaimed "sabbatical"of sorts--and seriously reevaluated a lot of the fundamentalist theology with which I had been raised. It was also around that time that many of the (male and white) Christian leaders I had looked up to started having extramarital affairs exposed, and that was confirmation that there was something wrong with the patriarchy of the conservative church. I voraciously read blogs of Christians who had come out of (were raised in and ultimately left) the conservative and Evangelical church circles, and those writings encouraged me to think more deeply and holistically about my faith.
My heart not only longed to understand more about God's heart for all Christians--not just fundamentalists or conservatives--and I wanted to be exposed to more liturgical (high-church) ways of worship. I had gone to Catholic mass--alone and unencumbered by expectations that often were put on me when I got plugged in to Evangelical church circles--during a time of personal crisis in 2011 and found that I felt more connected to God there than in any other church (with the exception of a Spirit-filled Charismatic church my family attended in the late 1990s). During the crisis of 2012, my mom often played music from Taize on YouTube, as the instrumental accompaniment to voices singing repeated, meditative lyrics seemed more appropriate for a dark spiritual season than upbeat Evangelical worship songs. In short, I was ready to get out of the Christian circles with which I was familiar and to go to a more "liberal" environment where theology was fluid, creative, and intellectually stimulating.
Well, I've gotten what I wanted, and it's made me both broaden my theological views and deepen my personal faith. Contrary to many people think, a liberal Christian education has made me appreciate Scripture even more (rather than devalue its validity); love more openly (rather than become jaded); and cling to God desperately (rather than resting assured that my theology is the best one out there). Each week, I attend 2-3 ecumenical chapel services at school, where students from various denominations gather to offer worship to God in different styles and with different emphases. I have learned to care about social justice issues that my former actively Republican self would have frowned upon. I have made friends who are "red and yellow, black and white," gay, transgender, transsexual, bisexual, conservative, liberal, a dichotomy-defying in-between, in love with Jesus, mad at God, open to the Holy Spirit, and the list goes on.
Previously, in college, I had liberal friends who weren't Christian (mostly from the Thornton School of Music and from Thematic Option honors program) and Conservative Christian friends (in my college fellowship). I never thought that one could be (truly, devotedly) Christian and somewhat liberal--or non-Conservative. Well, it's true, folks. I've seen it with my own eyes.
Friends getting up for morning prayer every day, friends who support or are gay, going out in the New England cold to worship God at 7 am. Friends who are devoting their lives to ministry, even if they don't fully believe (literally) everything the Bible says, because they see a compelling role for religion in society. Friends who choose a life of poverty in order to stand in solidarity with the oppressed. The list goes on.
At the same time, Evangelicals and Conservatives have found a home here, too. My prayer group is comprised of students mostly from the Assemblies of God, a relatively conservative and Pentecostal denomination. My church believes in the power of prayer, in God's word, and in the accountability of community.
The beautiful thing about an ecumenical seminary housed in a larger secular university is that, in order to engage with other denominations and academic disciplines, one is compelled to really figure out one's own background, narrative, and current beliefs. I have discovered that I am an Asian-American woman, saved by God's grace, willing to follow Jesus wherever He goes, and strengthened and led by the unpredictable moving of the Holy Spirit. I love my (Evangelical, Spirit-filled) church, but I also love attending mid-week evening prayer (often in the style of Taize) and observing Eucharist at Catholic or Anglican mass. I am learning just how broad God's love is for all people, and how His heart rejoices at the diverse ways people find to connect to Him and worship Him. I am seeing how futile it is to box God into rigid theology or a brand or culture of Christianity. I am also learning from my peers what conviction is and the price we pay for choosing to go against the grain of our capitalist, material, competitive, and patriarchal society.
I still have so much to learn, and I am looking forward to absorbing as much as I can during my final semester and my 30th year!
**I recognize that "conservative" and "Evangelical" are not necessarily the same thing. Perhaps one day I will write in a way that better distinguishes between the two. Thank goodness this is personal writing and not an academic discussion!
Friday, January 15, 2016
Faith and Humility
I started this blog two years ago with the encouragement of a close friend. Let's call her Pearl Girl. She and I had often exchanged thoughts in writing via email.
In January of 2014, I featured her reflection on birthdays as a post. Today, I'm happy to share another piece of her writing. Enjoy!
***
***
This morning I found myself reflecting more on what we
discussed last night (Mk 10:13-16).
What does it mean to receive the kingdom of God like a child? What aspect of children are we as
believers to emulate? I went back
to my notes from my New Testament 1 class for some direction, and this is what
I found.
According to my professor, there is an inherent link between
faith and humility. In the context
of Mt 19-23, Jesus is teaching about Israel’s faith and readiness for the
messiah which was shown through humility.
Children were used as a metaphor of humility, and the humility of the
disciples in leaving everything to follow Jesus was also honored (Mt 19:13-14,
27-30). In contrast, those who
were prideful, believing in their self-sufficiency, lacked faith in Jesus. The Pharisees rejected Jesus, believing
that they knew better, and the rich young man thought that he already did what
was necessary to enter heaven (Mt 19:1-12, 16-24). In Lk 9:46-50, Jesus identifies with children which shows
that he identifies with the humble.
He honors and lifts up the lowly, such as children and those in need,
who were considered “the least” because they were humbled. Humility is necessary in order to have
faith.
This makes sense to me. As a child knows his/her place before adults/parents, so we
as children of God are to humble ourselves before God, acknowledging who he is,
that he is so much greater than us.
In this way, our need for and dependence on him will become obvious to
us. To have faith is to
acknowledge that we need God for salvation, for life, for our every breath. We see that we need him in the big and
small things in our lives, in the temporal and the eternal. In the same way, children know that
they are not yet adults. They do
not have the wisdom, the strength, the independence, etc. of adults. They are still in need of adults until
they are grown.
Also, not only are we to be like children, but God gives us
the right to become his children (Jn 1:12). In this way, he offers us unconditional love and
acceptance. We then, as his
children, are to come before him in a stance of humility as a child would a
parent. This also includes the
trust, dependence, and love a child has for his/her parent. Like PA’s example of Tobias eagerly
waiting for PT to come home and yearning to spend time with him, we also are to
have that kind of eagerness to be with our heavenly father. If we really see him as our father who
loves us unconditionally, how can we not run to him when we are in need and
most of all, long for and simply enjoy being in his presence?
The more I reflect on this, the more I am humbled that
Jesus, who was in very nature God, chose to come as a man, a servant, humbling
himself to death on a cross for our sake.
We all need the child-like faith and humility to know our place before
God. We truly need him and depend
on him every day for everything.
All that we have is given from him. Children, then, play a role in reminding us that we are
children of God, we are in desperate need of him, and we are wholly loved by
him.
Back in the Zone
Last year, when I returned to New Haven from winter break in California, there was snow on the ground and snow in the air.
I took the same travel route this year, taking a 5-hour overnight flight out of Long Beach airport, arriving at JFK in the early morning, catching a NYC Airporter bus into Manhattan's Grand Central Station (2 hours in morning rush hour traffic), and then riding a 2-hour train to New Haven.
A good friend picked me up, and we headed to his house for lunch: brown rice and baked tilapia (loaded with peppers, onions, spinach, lemon, thyme, and seasoning).
I was home for a month, but it almost feels like I never left New Haven. The weather is still mild, just like it was when I left. My friend says it only flurried once, and the snow didn't stick. We catch up a bit, and it doesn't really feel like a New Year has come since our last hangout.
I get home around 2 pm and start catching up on emails. The new semester begins on Tuesday, and somehow I feel more ready for it now that I'm back. It's almost like time at Yale stopped, waiting for us to get back from the holidays.
I don't have any particular emotions at the moment, which is an interesting state of mind for an F (Myers-Briggs "feeler"). The dread I had felt while at home towards returning to the stressful school environment has dissipated. I remember now that there is also close community and support here, which makes the stress manageable.
In 2015, I gave of myself freely to the community here by hosting gatherings, cooking for friends, giving rides, listening, praying, participating in meetings, and taking on a campus leadership role that was perhaps a bit too much for me to handle. It's my final semester here, and I am reorienting myself to absorb it all and cherish the good moments. I want to take away as much as I can from Yale and Divinity School, and while I will still be present in each moment and interaction with my peers, I sense that this semester is about enriching myself rather than offering every cell of my being to the community.
A fellow student and prayer warrior from YDS texted me last night, as I was about to board my plane, with insights that match what I have been sensing. I feel stronger already, and I know that the support of friends like her will get me through the rest of my time here. I'm back in the zone, and I have hope for a good 2016!
I took the same travel route this year, taking a 5-hour overnight flight out of Long Beach airport, arriving at JFK in the early morning, catching a NYC Airporter bus into Manhattan's Grand Central Station (2 hours in morning rush hour traffic), and then riding a 2-hour train to New Haven.
A good friend picked me up, and we headed to his house for lunch: brown rice and baked tilapia (loaded with peppers, onions, spinach, lemon, thyme, and seasoning).
I was home for a month, but it almost feels like I never left New Haven. The weather is still mild, just like it was when I left. My friend says it only flurried once, and the snow didn't stick. We catch up a bit, and it doesn't really feel like a New Year has come since our last hangout.
I get home around 2 pm and start catching up on emails. The new semester begins on Tuesday, and somehow I feel more ready for it now that I'm back. It's almost like time at Yale stopped, waiting for us to get back from the holidays.
I don't have any particular emotions at the moment, which is an interesting state of mind for an F (Myers-Briggs "feeler"). The dread I had felt while at home towards returning to the stressful school environment has dissipated. I remember now that there is also close community and support here, which makes the stress manageable.
In 2015, I gave of myself freely to the community here by hosting gatherings, cooking for friends, giving rides, listening, praying, participating in meetings, and taking on a campus leadership role that was perhaps a bit too much for me to handle. It's my final semester here, and I am reorienting myself to absorb it all and cherish the good moments. I want to take away as much as I can from Yale and Divinity School, and while I will still be present in each moment and interaction with my peers, I sense that this semester is about enriching myself rather than offering every cell of my being to the community.
A fellow student and prayer warrior from YDS texted me last night, as I was about to board my plane, with insights that match what I have been sensing. I feel stronger already, and I know that the support of friends like her will get me through the rest of my time here. I'm back in the zone, and I have hope for a good 2016!
Saturday, January 9, 2016
Choices
In America, I feel like people are often praised for giving up everything, or taking a risk, to pursue their dreams. There's nothing wrong with that, per se.
But, for every person that goes far away for a prestigious degree, a distant dream, or a charitable cause, there are also countless people--mostly daughters of immigrants--who stay close to home, because family needs their support.
I am reminded of this every time I come home for break. I have been both in different times of my young adult life. And tonight, I want to honor those who have decided to stay home and be available to their family, rather than to make choices based purely on their own path.
It's not easy, sharing emotional burdens that parents have. It's not easy, being of service to aging parents. It's not easy, watching friends go off on adventures. But I hope it's worth it.
This post is dedicated to my girl friends who are so selfless and who put family above themselves. May the force always be with you!
But, for every person that goes far away for a prestigious degree, a distant dream, or a charitable cause, there are also countless people--mostly daughters of immigrants--who stay close to home, because family needs their support.
I am reminded of this every time I come home for break. I have been both in different times of my young adult life. And tonight, I want to honor those who have decided to stay home and be available to their family, rather than to make choices based purely on their own path.
It's not easy, sharing emotional burdens that parents have. It's not easy, being of service to aging parents. It's not easy, watching friends go off on adventures. But I hope it's worth it.
This post is dedicated to my girl friends who are so selfless and who put family above themselves. May the force always be with you!
Tuesday, January 5, 2016
Setting The Pace
Each day, I've been reading a little bit from the Book of Genesis. I have always loved the Old Testament more than the New. As I child, I read through the entire Bible three times (before the age of 12), and all the complicated (and sometimes convoluted) messes that Old Testament characters got themselves in appealed to my vivid imagination. The same holds true today. There is always some little insight I can glean from the narrative.
Jacob seems a little passive-aggressive. As a therapist and helping professional, I know that's not the best way. But maybe we don't always have a choice. Perhaps direct confrontation is not always helpful, even though that's what I have always tried to do with people.
Jacob and Laban can never really fully make up. Too much has gone on between them, and Jacob really needs to move on. Well, the least they can do is try to talk things over, share a meal, and establish a covenant. In this life, we can't always have the kind of closure that we deserve. But moving on is always healthy.
Good pieces of advice as I set the pace for the New Year.
I've also been reading Dark Night of the Soul by St. John of the Cross. This is a spiritual classic, right up there with The Interior Castle by St. Teresa of Avila, which I read this past summer. There is so much rich wisdom within Catholic tradition. We Protestants would do well to read some of those classics.
This summer, I got a lot of prayer from different sources--the prayer ministry at Elm City Vineyard, the Pasadena International House of Prayer, and the prayer team at Hope Christian Fellowship. Within one semester, everything that was prayed over me has come to pass--or is still in the works. I used to shy away from such prophetic things, because my family experienced upheaval and chaos in the wake of being in a charismatic church. But I've found that I cannot ever fully avoid these unsettling encounters with the Holy Spirit, so I've learned to accept them and try to keep a sane head on my shoulders.
It does get better. You learn how to discern what you are told. You learn to hold your own in the midst of others' voices. You learn to go first to God when you are confused.
In the end, fulfilled prophecy and answered prayer really is a beautiful thing. It is a gift, not to be demanded or expected. But it is from God.
I'm setting the pace for 2016 through prayer these days. There's no schedule to speak of quite yet (I don't return to New Haven for another 11 days), but I am mentally gearing up--slowly.
Sometimes you wait for a very long time for any small glimpse of clarity. I have been waiting all Fall for some hint about my future. I knew I had to wait and be patient.
Last night, it felt a bit clearer to me. For that I am glad. And I feel so relieved, like the burden of uncertainty is lightened significantly. We'll see how things play out, and once they do, I'll be sure to share :)
Jacob seems a little passive-aggressive. As a therapist and helping professional, I know that's not the best way. But maybe we don't always have a choice. Perhaps direct confrontation is not always helpful, even though that's what I have always tried to do with people.
Jacob and Laban can never really fully make up. Too much has gone on between them, and Jacob really needs to move on. Well, the least they can do is try to talk things over, share a meal, and establish a covenant. In this life, we can't always have the kind of closure that we deserve. But moving on is always healthy.
Good pieces of advice as I set the pace for the New Year.
I've also been reading Dark Night of the Soul by St. John of the Cross. This is a spiritual classic, right up there with The Interior Castle by St. Teresa of Avila, which I read this past summer. There is so much rich wisdom within Catholic tradition. We Protestants would do well to read some of those classics.
This summer, I got a lot of prayer from different sources--the prayer ministry at Elm City Vineyard, the Pasadena International House of Prayer, and the prayer team at Hope Christian Fellowship. Within one semester, everything that was prayed over me has come to pass--or is still in the works. I used to shy away from such prophetic things, because my family experienced upheaval and chaos in the wake of being in a charismatic church. But I've found that I cannot ever fully avoid these unsettling encounters with the Holy Spirit, so I've learned to accept them and try to keep a sane head on my shoulders.
It does get better. You learn how to discern what you are told. You learn to hold your own in the midst of others' voices. You learn to go first to God when you are confused.
In the end, fulfilled prophecy and answered prayer really is a beautiful thing. It is a gift, not to be demanded or expected. But it is from God.
I'm setting the pace for 2016 through prayer these days. There's no schedule to speak of quite yet (I don't return to New Haven for another 11 days), but I am mentally gearing up--slowly.
Sometimes you wait for a very long time for any small glimpse of clarity. I have been waiting all Fall for some hint about my future. I knew I had to wait and be patient.
Last night, it felt a bit clearer to me. For that I am glad. And I feel so relieved, like the burden of uncertainty is lightened significantly. We'll see how things play out, and once they do, I'll be sure to share :)
Saturday, January 2, 2016
A New Start
It's 2016, and I'm glad.
2015 ended in much stress, confusion, and recuperation. The end of the semester was pretty brutal. My Community Life Coordinator position became quite political during the final week of classes, due to racial tensions on campus. I who had tried so hard to stand behind other students of color in solidarity and advocacy ended up in the thick of accusations and misunderstandings. The immense pressure came from people I considered good friends and was directed towards my co-coordinator and I, who must walk a thin line of being student-peers while also acting as leaders with some level of administration-granted responsibility and authority. It got so bad that we, huddled on the couch covered in blankets one night (a collective fetal position of sorts), seriously considered resigning from our position- was it really worth being so stressed for our final semester in Divinity School? And was it fair that we (rather than administration) stood first in the line of fire from anger that really should be directed at larger systemic issues and longstanding traditions?
My personal community really came through for me during that time. Friends offered every possible form of support - during a busy time of semester- and made me feel so loved and appreciated. Fellow Pentecostals at the Divinity school rallied around me in prayer and even fasting. My spiritual director and church homegroup listened to and with me as I tried to figure out what I could have done better. My parents supported me over the phone from thousands of miles away. Professors offered extensions, and my supervisor (the Dean of Students) told me several times, "I've got your back."
All of that got me through, but what I really longed for was to feel or hear something directly from God. But he chose to speak to me through human friends, and for me to receive unconditional love from fellow mortals.
Right before I came home for winter break, I wrote a 10-page play in which I unleashed, creatively and somewhat abstractly, my thoughts about the whole incident. It was a dystopian drama in which death and destruction occur. It was as if I needed to give birth to a symbolic representation of the problematic binary (a chasm created by Black and White, in which I as a minority was simultaneously tangled and excluded--and most certainly stranded) before I left New Haven. I took my leave of Yale on December 20th, happy to go home, and caught a cold on the plane ride over.
While I was recovering, I got an image one day of a phoenix rising from the ashes. I took it to be a sign of hope for the coming year, and I recorded that image in a colored pencil drawing. I have always been able to recover from tough times, and I had every confidence that it would happen again this time.
Last night, I attended a New Year's Eve prayer meeting with the prayer team of my home church (that I attended in LA during the time before Divinity School). It was a boost of spiritual strength that I needed. And today, I finally felt God speak to me.
I was reminded of a phrase from Scripture that says, "I have set my face like flint," which someone had shared with me during my sophomore year of college. I looked up the verse in its context and ended up reading the entire chapter:
Isaiah 50
This is what the Lord says:
“Where is your mother’s certificate of divorce
with which I sent her away?
Or to which of my creditors
did I sell you?
Because of your sins you were sold;
because of your transgressions your mother was sent away.
2 When I came, why was there no one?
When I called, why was there no one to answer?
Was my arm too short to deliver you?
Do I lack the strength to rescue you?
By a mere rebuke I dry up the sea,
I turn rivers into a desert;
their fish rot for lack of water
and die of thirst.
3 I clothe the heavens with darkness
and make sackcloth its covering.”
4 The Sovereign Lord has given me a well-instructed tongue,
to know the word that sustains the weary.
He wakens me morning by morning,
wakens my ear to listen like one being instructed.
5 The Sovereign Lord has opened my ears;
I have not been rebellious,
I have not turned away.
6 I offered my back to those who beat me,
my cheeks to those who pulled out my beard;
I did not hide my face
from mocking and spitting.
7 Because the Sovereign Lord helps me,
I will not be disgraced.
Therefore have I set my face like flint,
and I know I will not be put to shame.
8 He who vindicates me is near.
Who then will bring charges against me?
Let us face each other!
Who is my accuser?
Let him confront me!
9 It is the Sovereign Lord who helps me.
Who will condemn me?
They will all wear out like a garment;
the moths will eat them up.
10 Who among you fears the Lord
and obeys the word of his servant?
Let the one who walks in the dark,
who has no light,
trust in the name of the Lord
and rely on their God.
11 But now, all you who light fires
and provide yourselves with flaming torches,
go, walk in the light of your fires
and of the torches you have set ablaze.
This is what you shall receive from my hand:
You will lie down in torment.
I couldn't have asked for a more reassuring message with which to kick of 2016. I'm ready to go again, and I'm going to be even tougher and unstoppable than before. My conscience is clear, and I walk forward with even thicker skin than before.
2015 ended in much stress, confusion, and recuperation. The end of the semester was pretty brutal. My Community Life Coordinator position became quite political during the final week of classes, due to racial tensions on campus. I who had tried so hard to stand behind other students of color in solidarity and advocacy ended up in the thick of accusations and misunderstandings. The immense pressure came from people I considered good friends and was directed towards my co-coordinator and I, who must walk a thin line of being student-peers while also acting as leaders with some level of administration-granted responsibility and authority. It got so bad that we, huddled on the couch covered in blankets one night (a collective fetal position of sorts), seriously considered resigning from our position- was it really worth being so stressed for our final semester in Divinity School? And was it fair that we (rather than administration) stood first in the line of fire from anger that really should be directed at larger systemic issues and longstanding traditions?
My personal community really came through for me during that time. Friends offered every possible form of support - during a busy time of semester- and made me feel so loved and appreciated. Fellow Pentecostals at the Divinity school rallied around me in prayer and even fasting. My spiritual director and church homegroup listened to and with me as I tried to figure out what I could have done better. My parents supported me over the phone from thousands of miles away. Professors offered extensions, and my supervisor (the Dean of Students) told me several times, "I've got your back."
All of that got me through, but what I really longed for was to feel or hear something directly from God. But he chose to speak to me through human friends, and for me to receive unconditional love from fellow mortals.
Right before I came home for winter break, I wrote a 10-page play in which I unleashed, creatively and somewhat abstractly, my thoughts about the whole incident. It was a dystopian drama in which death and destruction occur. It was as if I needed to give birth to a symbolic representation of the problematic binary (a chasm created by Black and White, in which I as a minority was simultaneously tangled and excluded--and most certainly stranded) before I left New Haven. I took my leave of Yale on December 20th, happy to go home, and caught a cold on the plane ride over.
While I was recovering, I got an image one day of a phoenix rising from the ashes. I took it to be a sign of hope for the coming year, and I recorded that image in a colored pencil drawing. I have always been able to recover from tough times, and I had every confidence that it would happen again this time.
Last night, I attended a New Year's Eve prayer meeting with the prayer team of my home church (that I attended in LA during the time before Divinity School). It was a boost of spiritual strength that I needed. And today, I finally felt God speak to me.
I was reminded of a phrase from Scripture that says, "I have set my face like flint," which someone had shared with me during my sophomore year of college. I looked up the verse in its context and ended up reading the entire chapter:
Isaiah 50
This is what the Lord says:
“Where is your mother’s certificate of divorce
with which I sent her away?
Or to which of my creditors
did I sell you?
Because of your sins you were sold;
because of your transgressions your mother was sent away.
2 When I came, why was there no one?
When I called, why was there no one to answer?
Was my arm too short to deliver you?
Do I lack the strength to rescue you?
By a mere rebuke I dry up the sea,
I turn rivers into a desert;
their fish rot for lack of water
and die of thirst.
3 I clothe the heavens with darkness
and make sackcloth its covering.”
4 The Sovereign Lord has given me a well-instructed tongue,
to know the word that sustains the weary.
He wakens me morning by morning,
wakens my ear to listen like one being instructed.
5 The Sovereign Lord has opened my ears;
I have not been rebellious,
I have not turned away.
6 I offered my back to those who beat me,
my cheeks to those who pulled out my beard;
I did not hide my face
from mocking and spitting.
7 Because the Sovereign Lord helps me,
I will not be disgraced.
Therefore have I set my face like flint,
and I know I will not be put to shame.
8 He who vindicates me is near.
Who then will bring charges against me?
Let us face each other!
Who is my accuser?
Let him confront me!
9 It is the Sovereign Lord who helps me.
Who will condemn me?
They will all wear out like a garment;
the moths will eat them up.
10 Who among you fears the Lord
and obeys the word of his servant?
Let the one who walks in the dark,
who has no light,
trust in the name of the Lord
and rely on their God.
11 But now, all you who light fires
and provide yourselves with flaming torches,
go, walk in the light of your fires
and of the torches you have set ablaze.
This is what you shall receive from my hand:
You will lie down in torment.
I couldn't have asked for a more reassuring message with which to kick of 2016. I'm ready to go again, and I'm going to be even tougher and unstoppable than before. My conscience is clear, and I walk forward with even thicker skin than before.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)