Rainy Day Reflection

I read words the way most people listen to music.  They pass through me, often uncaught and not very clearly remembered.  Music, on the other hand, invades my being and often overstimulates.  Earlier, as I sat on my living room couch reading a book (Religion and Learning at Yale), with piano music playing in the background (Chopin's complete Nocturnes), my attention naturally went towards the sound of notes rather than the sight of letters, and that became more taxing than relaxing.  This is why I can never study with music on--and why I don't always turn to music for stress-relief.

Reading, though, is enjoyable for me, as long as it's for pleasure and I don't feel pressure to remember anything.  (How I ever managed to get this far academically is still a mystery to me, for during the semester I often feel like quite a dunce and far behind my classmates when it comes to learning new things, yet when grades come out I'm often pleasantly surprised with the results.  I suppose my ability to write good papers has always been my saving grace.)

Things are finally slowing down, it seems.  June gloom, accompanied by cold and rainy weather, has allowed my body to stop feeling frantic and to just sit still, for once.  An early dinner and a cup of tea have prepared me for a quiet evening at home.

May was a full month.  I finished papers and finals, said goodbye to dear friends who were leaving Yale, flew home for 10 days to see family and friends, and hit the ground running once I returned to New Haven: commencement happened, then a week of orientation for my summer fellowship, followed by a friend's weekend visit over the Memorial Holiday, and then my first week working at the Boys and Girls Club of New Haven.

At 29, it feels a bit silly to be paid by my school to work somewhere for a summer in a fellowship along with other students, some who are still undergrads.  All over Facebook and across the world, friends of mine are buying houses, having children, and getting job promotions.  One of my best girlfriends played an important role at the Center for Disease Control during the Ebola crisis.  My former roommate, with whom I shared so much life and laughter, has been sent to Kenya by World Vision to live for two years.  And my best guy friends from high school are working, respectively, as a doctor and a lawyer in Los Angeles, purchase of property there making them proper young professionals.

I'm stoked for my friends, grateful to partake in their adventures through keeping in touch, and just as happy with the life I've chosen.  Studenthood and singleness have been a privilege for me, allowing me to learn and live with freedom and joy.  I've always made enough to support myself, and even now am doing fine with savings, this summer job, and employment for the coming school year.  So that's plenty for which to give thanks.

There was a time when I almost had ring on my finger, a handsome young man who would provide well financially, and the prospect of settling down in California's beautiful Bay Area.  It was the dream that so many of my friends envied, and I sometimes think back to the choices I made then that made those prospects short-lived.  Life forces some hard decisions on you, and at the time, you wonder if you'll regret it.

By grace, and through faith, I can say that I'm happier than I've ever been, and that I'm looking forward to what lies ahead in hope.  Thoughts pass through my head like words on a page, and I'm lucky if I'm diligent enough to write them down.  But the memories, like music, linger and last, and rainy days remind me to reflect and remember--so that I might give thanks.

Sleeping in on Saturday

Looking up, from bed I lie
Basking in the light
Of cloudy morning--sleeping in
has been my sheer delight.

Closing eyes, the birds outside
Speak cheer and joy and love
The same One who created them
Smiles at me from above

Sunset at the Beach

The sand, it sucked us ankle-deep

We stood there side by side

Shorelines, distant, 'cross the Sound

A row of blinking lights

The tide, it rose; I moved my shoes

To higher ground, and we--

backing out as waves approached

on sandy territ'ry--

Realized that this watery force

Whose depths remain unseen

Was bidding us to take our leave

And leave the mysteries be.

A Perfect Summer

In my mind, a perfect summer would look something like this:

I'd work during the day and then have restful activity during the evening.  (I'm working as a Special Projects Assistant at the Boys and Girls Club of New Haven through the Yale President's Public Service Fellowship.)

I would spend some time with old friends, but also take time to get to know new ones.  (There are a good number of folks hanging around this summer, so it's the perfect time to form deeper relationships on a one-on-one level.  Several acquaintances--the kinds you say hi to at school but haven't gotten to know well--have wanted to get together, and I'm looking forward to doing that.)

I would do some fun things with a group of friends during the weekends, but also have enough alone time to walk, read, think, and pray.  (I really, really want to REST this summer, and that means cutting back on social interactions.  This past semester I really ran myself ragged with various commitments, and I began to almost resent social obligations because I wasn't caring for my introvert well enough.)

I would take some weekend trips and explore New England, but I would also enjoy New Haven.  (What a great small city this is!  I've heard it's awesome in the summer.)

I would like to visit a different church each Sunday morning.  (My regular/home church meets in the afternoon, so no worries!)

I would like to run and swim more regularly.  (Winter really killed my exercise regimen.  Being a Californian, I never learned to exercise indoors, so once the first snow happened in November, I stopped running entirely.)

For Orientation week of my summer Fellowship, we went canoeing on Mill River, near East Rock

Come fall, I'll be starting my final year at Yale and looking ahead to my future trying to figure out what to do and where to go.  I'll be living in intentional community with four other people next year (which is exciting but also slightly stressful to think about, after having a whole apartment to myself for an entire semester) and serving as a Community Life Committee Co-Coordinator at the Divinity School, so I really do cherish this summer and the chance to be away from bustling community (but still connected to people.)

We'll see how it goes!  What does your summer look like?

An evening at Lighthouse Point Park (also during Orientation)

Mother's Day Sermon: A Poetic Response

"Submit"--says the household code

And that's the final word

For many Christians ever since

Who want to please the Lord.

But classes taught me not to see

Each text and then believe

Ephesians is the word of man

Included in God's book

We say it's Paul, but actually

It's just a wannabe.

Who writes in style that's not the same

But takes the famous name.

An Ode to the End of the Year

And just like that,
my first year at Yale
Completed.
Final paper
turned in this afternoon.
Nothing more to say
My brain has been
Depleted.

'Twas a social semester
Parties abounded.
I loved hosting the world
In my home.

'Twas a long winter
Snow abounded.
I lived alone
Cozily

'Twas a sorrowful season
Two losses
Jim, and Grandma
Lent

For much of the semester
My daily prayer was:
"Lord, have mercy!"
He did.

But Seriously...

Classes started today, and I settled right back into seeing friends at school, giving and receiving hugs, and laughing heartily in a spirit of camaraderie.

But already, I sense a more serious undertone to this second semester at Yale Divinity School, and this is due to a few things, I suppose.

First: I already have a semester under my belt.  I'm no longer elated simply because I'm back in school again.  This is my new reality, and I want to go somewhere with it.

Second: last semester awakened me to new possibilities and interests.  Along with wholeheartedly embracing my newfound community here, I also dared to envision my future with my mind and spirit.

Third: I think I'm going to be taking some very good courses this semester, taught by some very good professors.  And it just so happens that all the classes I'm choosing to take are taught by individuals of color, women, or both!

Fourth: I feel as if this is the semester where I discover whether I'm "cut out" for certain things in which I suspect I have an interest--but am not sure.  So I need to take the reading seriously and let the material sink in deeply.  How the material engages with the way I'm wired just might indicate where my path might lead after graduation.

So, to remind myself of this, I've put a magnet up on my refrigerator, a magnet which I purchased back in the summer but did not bring with me to New Haven until this most recent trip back from winter break.  Now, it seems to be just the right message at just the right time: