35 left

In 35 days I'll be in the Philippines. Yikesabee! I can't believe it's almost here. I'm excited and anxious. Lately at night, I'm restless, recalling the things I should be doing instead of sleeping. Though this may sound productive in some twisted sense, it doesn't help with the energy needed the next day in completing tasks.
This past weekend we took some time to be together, to bond and dream about what lies ahead. It was a sweet time of delighting in one another, laughing, and recalling the unique attributes each of us brings to the table. I'll admit I was encouraged. It's a little funny to me to recognize that even after all these years together there are some central qualities and truly captivating details that we haven't cultured completely. These characteristics and newfound desires should be noted if not considered fully within our relationships.
This weekend further compounded in me an appreciation and celebration for my community. We are in no way lacking joy, but often these moments are disbursed among hardships or interwoven so that we experience both simultaneously. This weekend, however was completely peaceful, reflective, and all around fun. I loved it!
One of the things that really stood out to me was a discussion we had on the gospel and our tendency to waltz around the idea with the people we know, ultimately leaving out the good news itself. This, opposed to honing in on the centrality of the gospel story, the work of Christ Himself. I recognize I'm often satisfied with the mere mention of Christ, shying away from the truth that God loves my friends more than I do, that He died for them. It's hard to accept my weakness in this. We shouldn't be ashamed. Mostly I don't want to believe that I am but as if to send out a town crier, my selfishness announces it's own spotlight, proclaiming "see me, validate me, know that I'm ok, accept me and then accept the gospel." My actions shout that the gospel can't stand on it's own. Who am I to say this?
I felt sad for the wasted moments, realizing now I'm lacking time. I want to use the next moments wisely calling my dear friends to see the truth, that Jesus loves them. I felt humbled to stop and see my ability or lack there of in showing what is nonetheless good news with people around me.
It's easy to imagine being a light in an unfamiliar place like the Philippines, one without the pressures of my everchanging native culture. It's even romantic in a way. But in the thick of this adventure, I must not forget that God has placed me in Tampa to be an expression of His love. Thus while in the Philippines I long to learn how to make that happen better, to love more deeply, to reflect Christ more and in simple terms be different than I am right now. I know this is an extreme goal.
So why travel so far to affect my interactions with what is right before my eyes? I'm not sure I have the answer completely. I believe God is calling me to Manila to teach me something outside this present context. Perhaps a teaching very central to Philippine culture, yet different than a western mindset. Mostly this is yet to be discovered but even now I am newly aware of the value placed on relationships in Southeast Asia rather than on constant doing and I'm eager to see that lived out. I'm also captivated by the strength we sensed among the women when visiting initially and I hope to learn more about them.
On a personal note I am curious to know my idenity when all of what I use to define myself currently is stripped away. This both frightens and intriques me. Is it possible to be defined by God and others in a way I never imagined?

Trouble Sleeping

I read today that some artists believe ideas capture you and compel you to create something out of them, that they find you in hallways and bus stops and become a part of you. Having trouble sleeping lately and I don’t know what it is. Perhaps it’s anxiety, but maybe it’s one of these ideas. Who knows?
This past summer while working at the conservatory, I started walking in my neighborhood more frequently and ever since, there’s been this man that I pass nearly everyday. I’m unsure of his name but every time I pass by, he is there. The unique thing is that this man always has this live chicken standing next to him. The man sits at the edge of an empty field and the chicken is by his side. He never looks at me directly (the man…or the chicken for that matter), although I try to say hello every time and I must say the chicken is missing some of its feathers. There are so many missing that it is hard to see the few that are left. It’s the weirdest thing but chickens are often found crossing the road in our neighborhood and I wonder why? Not why did they cross the road but why chickens are even here, in the inner-city? It’s just one of those peculiar things that can be found in the corners of our streets here in Tampa Heights.
Needless to say my schedule has slowed down quite a bit. Recently with the extra time I have noticed balance creeping its way into my life. This is a highly unfamiliar feeling. That's to say that mostly I am producing at such a fast pace(or at least doing so much) that there is little time to process what is immediately around me. But today, as I walked, I was grateful for what I took in, for the chicken sighting and the man too. I couldn’t help but wonder if this man and his chicken had a story to tell, if they were perhaps finding me in my path and asking me to tell it.

mabuhay! to life!

This week has been a reflective one. I love pictures! I do. And I think I like them so much because it’s proof that beauty’s all around me. Life spins fast, but a picture pauses it for a brief second and it feels empowering, like you beat the system and somehow were able to capture the truth of someone in the snap of a button. Maybe that’s why I’m so crazy about the arts-at their height they do likewise. At least that’s what I long to believe. People would argue that taking a picture puts you outside that moment, as if you didn’t live it. But I wonder if the slight distance, if the minor disadvantage is worth it. I wonder if like the arts, the way to really see the whole truth is to step outside it.

I wish I could do this when I get into conflict with someone. Stop the moment, so to speak, and take myself outside to peer in. I think I would be better for it, if I could. I definitely try to do this but mostly feel trapped in the four corners of my own 3X5 self portrait. A crooked image, that’s out of focus and the colors are slightly off.

A few weekends ago we worked on the house and I got a chance to spend some time working alongside my friend JoAnn. I’ll freely admit I wish I was like Jo because she’s able to see truth so easily and point it out to others. I mean I’m sure that she doesn’t always see this as a strength in herself, but it’s there. She has the ability to say what she means.
I get to see how she lifts the truth and swirls it around and tosses it back at me. And when I catch it, it looks different. It looks different than anything I imagined it to be. It often returns to me unmasked and raw. Simultaneously, she lets me live the moment, while placing the viewfinder right in front of my eyes.