DVH

Today I got to talk with one of the kindest, wisest, most brilliant men I know. It was a short conversation, but completely altered my mindset going into this journey to China. After he left, I couldn't concentrate on anything except what he said. So I decided to write it down so I wouldn't forget.

Just embrace China.

Why must you stand for truth? Can it not stand on its own? Why must you put such pressure on yourself to be known as the Christ follower and make his name known? Why not just soak in what it has to offer, taking it as it is, the beauty and joy of it all. Why not let yourself live in the moment you occupy, not forcing things, yet not squandering opportunity, but treasuring each moment that goes by for what it is. Opening yourself to see. Letting it wash you of impurity and envelop with simplicity. Allowing yourself to truly receive what it has to give. Break the chains you’ve bound yourself with and simply live. Allowing the beauty and simplicity to wash over you, that being your testimony of Truth for all who choose to let themselves see. Now this is not an excuse to not bring Jesus, but in fact bringing Jesus by simply doing that. You can query and process when you get back.

What relief I have found in the words he speaks, a crushing weight of pressure lifted from my being as this journey can again be seen as an adventure. Free to live life. To simply be. To take it as it is and allow myself to see and feel the joy and fullness of it all. You’d think since it’s in ink under my skin it would sink in, but alas, with that conversation, the ink of those words seeps a little deeper, entering my veins and bringing a new life. A spark of Truth igniting a fire fueling a full life. One that I truly look forward to.

Into the Wild.

After talking with several friends, I was reminded of a night when I watched Alex Supertramp's story. Still the same longing, but changing ever so slightly as the days go by. 

5/8/13

I just want to go. Into the wild. That’s where my heart is. I long to go. To live life fully like that. No boundaries, no limits. Lucky and free. Free from the expectations that society suffocates with. My soul yearns for all that I’d learn and to have eyes to see, living lucky and free. To brave the great unknown, with nothing of my own, living from adventure to adventure. No expectations, no agenda, but meeting people who I’d otherwise never talk to. Living off the land, gaining the deep insights into the Truths of the depths of mankind. Seeking life to it’s fullest, without a plan. No fear of reputation, no limitation of career or money, but living day to day, enjoying all that is for just that. What it is.

Seeing creation thrive, watching how nature keeps alive and living alongside it, both willing to survive. The great unity and simplicity out there so entices me, I can’t keep my mind off that restoration of harmony. I know it’d eventually get lonely, but what peaceful rest there would be. Escaping the grimy claws of our culture and society, who demands and screams hat I need to be, my career defining all of me, living for more so I can simply be happy. How desperately and utterly empty that is. If that’s my life then I don’t want to live. I know there’s so much more, so let me escape to what’s in store.

Why do I have to be a young female, who’s not permitted to go and find life for herself. I must plan plan plan, but I long to let go and just trust. To love and learn. To see life by each moment, not how much I earn. I never want to be defined by the American dream, loving to increase selfish self-esteem, but I’m desperate to break free, free from the biting grips of what life ‘should be’. No, I want it as it is. Messes and all. Not sugar-coated with illusions so it’s easier to swallow.

But let me go. Please let me fly and you may just be surprised at just how high is possible. The fullness of potential. The richness that’s available.

One with the birds and the trees, needing nothing more than to simply be. Living in solidarity with the animals, walking hand in hand as we stand in the potential of life. This journey dotted with all kinds of beings can be full of beauty and joy if you’ll only let yourself see.

I never thought a movie, one man’s story, could connect so deeply with my soul. But it does. How can I be satisfied with a life of anything less than the above? Into the wild, experiencing a new side of love. So find me one ho will brave this unfavorable journey that’s so entirely worth it and let us live and KNOW what it means to live life together.

I’m convinced we’ll come back to this beauty of solidarity where we come to know and grow in depth of love for all around us.

These quiet times are all well and fine, but I know there’s so much more. Like a floodgate, a wooden door just waiting to be burst opened. And I crave that fullness like a bat to a cave and I don’t know if I can live with anything less. Reading is good and it teaches, but my heart beats for experience, knowledge that reaches the depths of who I am. I can know something but until I open my eyes to see past the inevitable disguise to embrace that thing for what it is, not what I perceive it should be, I’ll never really own it.

So release me from this leash I’m tethered to and free me to walk boldly and freely into the wild. Not living a safe life where I can predict the fortnight, but a life of reckless abandon. Lucky and free.

The wisdom and insight I’d gain is invalueable and I so long for the surreal to shake my perception of reality. To see things I never thought possible, noticing that which was previously unnoticeable, reflecting on the Truths of those who have gone before. We get so caught up in the clutter of the ‘necessities’ of life, so bogged down by the expectations of how things have always been, faking a grin to show our support of the sort of behavior that strips us of vitality, crushing our ability to really live. But I want to break free, shatter the chains binding me to a life I never wanted.

So that’s my dream. Into the wild.

10/24/13

Wow. Wow wow wow.

Yesterday I decided to stop hating planning. I made a decision not to resent it anymore. I realized how tightly I was holding onto everything. Everything. I was scraping desperately for control and it was forcing me into a trench of worry and anxiety. So yesterday my eyes were opened. I could see that the joy and life was being sucked out of the details and preparation for my travels by my screaming desire for control in every aspect. So yesterday I decided to embrace planning. To open my clenched fists and release the shredding grip of my white knuckles.

In my hurry to get everything done, I had been turning to myself to be the source of provision, trusting myself to fit it all in and make it connect somehow. Self-sufficiency. I see through my own eyes and from my perspective only. And as I began to feel the weight of self-sufficiency absolutely crushing me, I remembered that’s supposedly not the way it’s meant to be. Trust. I lacked trust. In more ways than one. But as I made the first step of simply realizing this reality, I decided to step back and again rely on something bigger than me.  

First, time with a dear friend. I had no idea what to expect due to the time that has passed since we last saw each other. But what a refreshing breath of pure air that time was. What a beautiful woman she has become and how blessed and undeserving I am of being the friend of such a one.

Then the visa. First I didn’t have the right documents. Then the man who we thought could provide the documents in fact couldn’t. So scrambling to figure out a way to get what I needed to stay in China for a while, and seemingly being unable to do it. But with the help of some of my brothers wonderful friends, the proper documents were emailed and sent to the consulate, where they approved them and said they fit the requirements. So today. It just gets better. As Maggie and I prayed on our way, that we would be able to find the place and they’d take my card to pay for it, I remembered the sweetness of simply praying with another person. The pure beauty of trust in the midst of the said situation. So we find the building and go inside, but a hint of fear still clung, residing on the fact that I just switched banks and only possessed a temporary make-shift debit card, not seeing much hope they’d honor that card. But we waited in line and I had all the papers ready, but alas, the sign said they only took the major cards or money orders or cashier checks, but the lady, so nice, said she would check to see if it worked. And it didn’t. But as I fumbled for another option I mentioned I had cash (a blessed stash my family had given me as an early birthday present) and she said she’d take that. What a gushing relief it was to be able to pick up my visa in the right time. Amazing how it all worked out.

And on top of that, somehow there was a glitch in the system or I conquered it by some way, and it’s not the typical tourist visa, but I can actually stay longer than my brother who lives there. Not just a single entry, I can enter any number of multiple times. In face, I may have even gotten a residence permit. For China. And I was worried about being able to get a visa at all.

Now in addition, my brother informed me that I may be joining him to help film and help out in the stunning Sichuan province, where they’re restoring the Panda habitat. I don’t know if I’ll pay for my trip or if it’ll be paid for and free, but even the mere opportunity to travel and see something Justin calls breath-taking is something to stop and rejoice over. Being able to see the work of restoration in nature. A mere reflection of the restoration of mind body soul and spirit. What a beautiful reality I get to see reflected in the restoration of something to the way it used to be, living in harmony.

And even on top of that, when I got to the tiny library on my way to Judy’s to check my electronic mail, what a beautiful gift sat there waiting for my eyes to read it. It was a letter from my sister, my amazing sister, just for me. I can’t express the joy that filled me even from seeing the fact that she had taken time to write a letter. To me. And not just a quick note, but pages filled with her thoughts, her filling me in on her situation. Telling me she wants me to visit. She even has some sort of slight desire for restoration in our family. Tears swelled as I read. I love her. So much. And what she said stirred something in me. Ashamedly, I realized I had forgotten what a sweet soul she has, she cares. So much. About those who may not have what she realizes she has. Her words were music to my soul, a gift I didn’t expect. And after this, who knows what’ll happen next.

I am filled with a humility I haven’t been able to see in so long. True surrender, and look what resulted. I know this may not always be the case where everything seems to work out infinitely better than I could have ever expected as a result of trust, but what joy I have in knowing that there is a Good Provider who cares. And when I have the courage to let go, how freeing it is to watch him show me the depths of his care. Yesterday I consciously decided to stop holding on, and I cannot tell you the beauty that I’m so blessed to have found. Either that’s a whooooooole lot of luck, a huge amount of coincidence or a boatload of karma, or there really may be a higher being, a God who defines sovereignty.

Looking forward to all these trips and events, I excitedly anticipate what all will take place in the days to come.

Welcome to the world of cyclists

It’s amazing how incredibly different people are. There’s a culture in everything. Subcultures surround on all sides. The distinct culture of the Appalachian Trail where people bond immediately under pseudo names and create a whole new story of Appalachian fame. Learning together, living together, walking together. Enduring weather and finding solidarity in similarity of circumstance.

In the same way there seems to be subculture of cyclists. Each proud of the rides they’ve finished. United by spandex, high end road bikes and more spandex. Each excelling at what they seem to enjoy best and thriving off the effects of the ride. Coming from all over the world to participate in bike tours, and to the innocent bystander, merely enduring the hills and the twists and turns. But they ride on.  

And within the subculture there are more subcultures. Those who ride for fun, those who are so serious they wouldn’t miss even one tour even if it cost their only son, and those like me who don’t really know why they ride, they just do.

Some enjoy pushing their bodies to a new level, some love the scenery that’s so beautiful, and some just want to stay fit. Wherever the people here fit, there is certain camaraderie. People are friendly. They look out for each other and live for the ride, again, a certain solidarity keeping their subculture alive. There’s got to be something that makes Czechs, engineers, kids, doctors, and mothers stick closer than brothers. When one falls down, the others slow down and stop to help him up, concerned for his safety and wanting all to ride safely.

There’s an entire subculture for cyclists. And now I’m immersed in it, drowning in the subterranean reality of cyclist unity. Here is a place that caters to their every need, from helmet covers to toe clips, the bikers heaven covers it all. A giant tent devoted simply to meet their physical riding needs.

Experiences range from newb to seasoned vet, but this weekend the test was just that, to see who could brave the hills and the strain to get up an over to the finish. Vastly a majority of men, women are sparse but present, but all gather together for an event such as this. Nine year olds to men who are almost 85, they thrive on rides such as this one. This is the Hilly Hundred. And it’s just one of MANY places to see this subculture in concentration, to see the determination and fascination of these people who live to ride.

What is it that keeps a group of people so united? Is it a similar interest? A common love for an activity or place that brings such solidarity? If we are truly united in Christ than how do you explain all that seems to be bonds just as strong? 

One thing I’ve seen, one thing I’ve learned, is that no bond is quite as strong as that of people united in Christ. It spans over space and time, across the world and different paradigms. Connecting those who have gone before and those yet to come, it’s the unity of the Spirit that transcends all that’s been done. A solidarity that’s exemplified by the person of Jesus Christ who took on humanity and created the meaning and beauty of solidarity and unity. He became nothing to experience life as we do, and now we can be united because of what he’s been through.

A sweet unity I don’t exactly comprehend, but I can’t deny it’s reality and how it’s affected me.

Cultures and subcultures are everywhere, every place I turn my eye. It’s fascinating to see how people become united over any number of things. So as I continue to live I shall continue to give eye to the pockets of subcultures, seeking to understand what the basic unity is that creates such a solidarity.

"Life's too deep for words. So don't try to describe it, just live it"

     C.S. Lewis

The threat of the tsunami.

These are the thoughts I think while waiting for a friend in a parking lot: 

Again, the overwhelming weight of those who don’t see nor care crushes my hope and threatens despair to paralyze life and growth. Friends, family, strangers, billboards, they all seem to be stacking up against me, leaving my paradigm broken like shattered glass.

Why so angry? Why so resentful? What did God do to ear this name, this defame, leaving his name going down in infamy from now on into history.

Leaving the safe sheltered bubble some called home opens up the mind to the darkness of the unknown, where truth is relative and everything is subjective. My comfortable paradigm is challenged and I’m left having to examine the depth of my devotion to what many consider a fanciful notion of magic and unreality. All of these questions I’ve had come rushing back, flooding my being like a tsunami scene from the news, threatening destruction in every way, to wash away all that I once stood on. It leaves me in a whirlwind of thoughts and ideas, not knowing which ways up due to their manipulation of what’s what.

Why so bitter and hateful towards something you claim is unreal. If it was unreal why would you care who I told or what is being sold as truth.

I want to say that I have enough confidence to claim that if you’re searching for Truth you WILL end up finding it in Christ, but I’m afraid to say that because it seems history has proven otherwise.

All of the Muslims, all the Buddhists, all the Hindus. Can I say they have not a clue of what is Truth? They’re just as convinced as I that they’re willing to die for what some critically call a total lie. Sure there are some who just follow suit because their ancestors have done so, but isn’t that the same in Christianity?

How can there be so many who have thought through this all and still end up claiming Jesus as Truth, the Bible as the perfect powerful presence of God in written form? Where does their confidence come from? What’s the core that holds them up against the torrents of nontraditional culture and challenges of views?

I’m left wallowing in my own insecurity and uncertainty of what’s right. I know I cannot disregard the past, the stories of millions who have asked for Truth and have found it in You, radically transforming their very beings. Yet if only seeing was believing, for even in the midst of these stories I’m still questioning.

Where is this dissatisfaction, this unquenched curiosity.

So many who I know and love have turned from what they once claimed to be their all, and I’m left in awe of the bitterness they harbor toward what they once held so dear. Where is this all coming from? What’s the root of this entire lack of love and conviction, a radical change of direction.

So many different people, and my heart wishes to know them all, to see where they fall in life and where they’re going. To share the life I’ve found, the blessed peace of rest in Truth, but as soon as I open my eyes and realize how exceedingly many differences there are even from those from the same gene pool, I am overcome with a weight that presses on my chest, sucking all rest I once found in what I thought I knew. With each new person, each new story, I’m left with thoughts that have wrought my mind in ways I know not how to repair.

I don’t know what to say or even what to pray in response to this reality.

It’s not exactly fair for some to say that Christians haven’t seen reality because we haven’t questioned anything and have just blindly believed what we’ve been fed from when we were wee. But how are there some who come through the kiln of questions stronger than before, ready to take on the world in the name of Jesus yet some who build up so much pressure of hatred, uncertainty and anger that they explode from the tension and walk away entirely, not able to even mention the name of God without a grimace.

How are there such extremes? How can something so beautiful seem to create such division and elicit such extreme contradictory life trajectories? I can’t wrap my mind around it and I’m still unsure of where I fall in the middle of it, but rest assured, I will press in, press on, and see what comes of it.