The Big Picture
Saying that the recent months have been rough is a ridiculous understatement. But then, when I start trying to trace back to when it all ''began,'' I just keep going further and further back. Life has been one gigantic trial, test, obstacle, faith smashing and building ordeal since last August... down to the fact that I just sliced my knee open on the edge of the bed, LITERALLY a centimeter over from where I sliced it open on a razor a few weeks ago (and ended up with staph again)....
but this morning.... one small moment of clarity... not complete clarity or all consuming clarity, but a tiny piece... and I'll take what I can get these days.
I forced myself to go for a run. I want to run every day, but most days, sadness and lack of energy win out. This morning, I HAD to do it. I did jumping jacks and simple exercises until my heart rate got up enough that I could make it out the door. Eli loved 'exerising' with me.
So I just started running, straight down Clinton until I hit the water, which didn't take very long. A quick right, and I forced each step. And slowly, I began observing the people and the constantly changing neighborhoods, listening to the sounds, smelling the smells, taking in the demographics, and then.... everything started to feel so familiar, and my heart and mind began to wax nostalgic. Suddenly, I was running in Hong Kong, figuratively. And I remembered the sensation I got almost 11 years ago when I walked up Canal street and spotted the Mahayana Temple. "A little China."
I'm thankful for the FEW days the summer of 2006 that I braved the elements and my sleep deprivation, and got up at 5:00 a.m., (when the humidity was ONLY 85% and the temperature a balmy 82F), and then sweated my way through the streets of Kowloon. Because THAT made my running this morning, my running through the LES and all the way down to the South Ferry, it made it a way to connect to my purpose, why I'm here, what the big picture is. My eyes get so caught up on the small picture and the discomfort and the suffering. I lose the big picture every day, but not this morning.
I remembered the passion that drove me to leave the places in the South where I grew up and where to me it seemed that so many lived so comfortably, with all the Sunday morning Christians and our segregated lifestyles. Where it seemed like the most important thing was making sure I drove a car and dressed as well as the neighbors. Where people of other ethnicities (other than Caucasian) and other religions had to fight to fit in and be seen as 'equal.' (I don't mean to say everyone and every place down South is like this OR that you can't find this in NY....I mean OBVIOUSLY you can. I am just characterizing my experience and the passion God put in me as He opened my eyes to the larger world). One of the revelations I wrote about in my journal that first summer in HK was just how materialistic we were back home.... and how BIG everything was, and that really, we didn't need SO much... even down to our way of dress. It was hot at hell in Hong Kong, and yet people weren't scantily clad. Back in Georgia, it was like a competition to see who could be the sexiest and get the most attention!
I also remembered the fear and sadness that I'd have every summer as I prepared to leave for Asia, distraught over missing my family, with whom I was completely codependent, or the boy I was currently fixated upon.... And I remembered the fear and anxiety I had as we drove to Boston, when I wanted to stay in Macon with my friends and the world I'd created for myself at Mercer, or near Augusta so I could hang out with the new guy I was pinning my hopes and dreams upon. I remember sitting outside a hotel around Baltimore, smoking a cigarette out of desperation, crying hysterically, and contemplating turning around, and then... finally... solidifying that NO. I was GOING to do this. I was going to follow God even though it was SO unknown.
And then I remembered how I decided in 2006 that I wouldn't date any boy that wasn't going into full time ministry, and how I turned down quite a few that I really liked because I knew in my heart that God wanted my life fully and wanted me to work in partnership beside someone, getting our hands dirty and being stretched in some sort of mission field.
And then I thought of all the compromises I've had to make moving into the city from Forest Hills. Living in Manhattan is what so many people dream about. And while that is not lost upon me, and I am not void of thanksgiving to Jesse's family and even my dad who God has used to make this possible. But it was never my dream. It wasn't what I dreamed about growing up, or even what the part of me that desired peace and comfort wanted in my 20's. Where's the white picket fence? (Yes, I wanted one). Where is the giant garage and multiple bedrooms? And vast backyard where kids can walk down to the creek? Where are the Friday night lights and high school football games? Where is the being able to hang out with friends I knew since childhood and visit Whitney and Cynthia in South Georgia? Where is the having enough money that we can live MORE than comfortably and get whatever I want? Where is the career in music? Those were my dreams... Yet I knew, they were not HIS dreams for me. And that part of me that knew that, the part of me that wanted to obey God at all costs and quit living my lavish lifestyle. It was that part of me that needed meaning, and found it in picking up my cross... so to speak.
So as I thought about the frustrations of moving, the frustrations of mine and Jesse's marriage, the sadness I have missing my family and people I've had to leave to follow Him.
But I couldn't forget the words I wrote in my journal as a young 20 year old kid. We'd just arrived in Hong Kong and had our first day of teaching, and I wrote, "This is it God. This type of life. This is where I fit." I'd wanted to fit as a music major, as a performer. That had been my dream my whole life. I'd wanted to fit as a sorority girl, a beautiful, popular girl, like those I idolized from youth up. I wanted the happy little family, to be adored by some guy, and just feel GOOD and comfortable all the time. But instead, it never worked out. And there was never peace. And the boys never wanted me. And I got turned down from everything I wanted musically even though I knew I must have SOME talent. My life didn't make sense... until I was in Hong Kong. Until I was living missionally and all of life was about the Kingdom of God, and none of life was about me.
That's why I kept going back... because there, life wasn't about me. That's why I stayed here, because here life wasn't about me.... At least, that is how I feel. So many times/months/years, I've kicked and screamed here because I just wanted it to be about me. I just wanted to have someone comfort me, someone minister to me, someone understand me, someone love me the most.... to feel accepted and really appreciated, not to feel like people always needed more from me and I coudln't measure up. But God wouldn't have it. And I have often felt miserable. I've only ever found peace here when life was not about me at all, and when I don't try, when I'm not trying to make it about me. And running by the East River this morning, taking in the tourist sites, watching the marginalized rummaging through the trash for food, seeing people who were obviously mentally ill struggle through the day, seeing all the tourists, dressed to impress, exploring, watching the men running the food carts as they looked exhausted and hopeless, seeing the young families taking pictures with their children, and seeing all the construction crews and maintenance workers outside the buildings, working in the hot sun to provide luxuries for other people .... reminded me of the big picture, and the main purpose
.... and I prayed, "God, enlarge my tent.... give me more opportunity to love. OPEN my eyes to the opportunities around me. Make all of my life ministry.... restore my passion, break my heart, don't give up on me. May these be the days I look back on and recall as the most devoid of fellowship with You. Grow me, woo me, pursue me, I beg. I need You. There is so much I want and think I need, but really, I need You. Please show up.... show up in this life. You've reminded me again of my purpose as Your daughter, Your disciple; please do all that which is impossible, which I cannot do. And help me bear the temptation to concentrate on myself and what I don't have.
Four miles. Fourty minutes, and how many people I passed... and how many more inside all the buildings and apartment complexes! Isaiah records, You ask 'Who shall I send? Who will go?' And he responds, here I am, send me. He began in pain though, when Uzziah died, and in his pain, he saw God. He accepted the call, but God gave him an awfully hard message to share... Nothing was glamorous about his call. Nothing was glamorous about his message.
It's always been my pain that drove me to You God. Indeed, the constant pain of my youth and the different things I was exposed to are what made me completely uncomfortable and unwilling to live the comfortable life. The constant rejection of youth and young adulthood has kept me going back to You. And the pain now keeps me from getting caught up in my own fluffy life and how I would construct it.
Oh God, help me to run more... to be in Your city more, and to be reminded of my initial call and vow to be Yours. No, I didn't know what I was getting into back then, but You knew I didn't. Still, my heart had a bit of sincerity in my vows back then... and it has much more today as I see a bit of what this life can entail, and the suffering and pain and disappointment, feeling constantly rejection, and the constant living by faith and not sight. God, remind me of Your provision in the past, and may it fuel me now to hang on and carry on. Please don't give up on me. Please use me. Strengthen me; remake me. From the inside out... my heart cries out... to You.
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| The day of my DNC, to remove my child who had no heart beat... |
I forced myself to go for a run. I want to run every day, but most days, sadness and lack of energy win out. This morning, I HAD to do it. I did jumping jacks and simple exercises until my heart rate got up enough that I could make it out the door. Eli loved 'exerising' with me.
So I just started running, straight down Clinton until I hit the water, which didn't take very long. A quick right, and I forced each step. And slowly, I began observing the people and the constantly changing neighborhoods, listening to the sounds, smelling the smells, taking in the demographics, and then.... everything started to feel so familiar, and my heart and mind began to wax nostalgic. Suddenly, I was running in Hong Kong, figuratively. And I remembered the sensation I got almost 11 years ago when I walked up Canal street and spotted the Mahayana Temple. "A little China."
I'm thankful for the FEW days the summer of 2006 that I braved the elements and my sleep deprivation, and got up at 5:00 a.m., (when the humidity was ONLY 85% and the temperature a balmy 82F), and then sweated my way through the streets of Kowloon. Because THAT made my running this morning, my running through the LES and all the way down to the South Ferry, it made it a way to connect to my purpose, why I'm here, what the big picture is. My eyes get so caught up on the small picture and the discomfort and the suffering. I lose the big picture every day, but not this morning.
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| Hong Kong Island, view from the Peak |
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| hiking the Peak on Hong Kong Island |
I remembered the passion that drove me to leave the places in the South where I grew up and where to me it seemed that so many lived so comfortably, with all the Sunday morning Christians and our segregated lifestyles. Where it seemed like the most important thing was making sure I drove a car and dressed as well as the neighbors. Where people of other ethnicities (other than Caucasian) and other religions had to fight to fit in and be seen as 'equal.' (I don't mean to say everyone and every place down South is like this OR that you can't find this in NY....I mean OBVIOUSLY you can. I am just characterizing my experience and the passion God put in me as He opened my eyes to the larger world). One of the revelations I wrote about in my journal that first summer in HK was just how materialistic we were back home.... and how BIG everything was, and that really, we didn't need SO much... even down to our way of dress. It was hot at hell in Hong Kong, and yet people weren't scantily clad. Back in Georgia, it was like a competition to see who could be the sexiest and get the most attention!
I also remembered the fear and sadness that I'd have every summer as I prepared to leave for Asia, distraught over missing my family, with whom I was completely codependent, or the boy I was currently fixated upon.... And I remembered the fear and anxiety I had as we drove to Boston, when I wanted to stay in Macon with my friends and the world I'd created for myself at Mercer, or near Augusta so I could hang out with the new guy I was pinning my hopes and dreams upon. I remember sitting outside a hotel around Baltimore, smoking a cigarette out of desperation, crying hysterically, and contemplating turning around, and then... finally... solidifying that NO. I was GOING to do this. I was going to follow God even though it was SO unknown.
And then I remembered how I decided in 2006 that I wouldn't date any boy that wasn't going into full time ministry, and how I turned down quite a few that I really liked because I knew in my heart that God wanted my life fully and wanted me to work in partnership beside someone, getting our hands dirty and being stretched in some sort of mission field.
And then I thought of all the compromises I've had to make moving into the city from Forest Hills. Living in Manhattan is what so many people dream about. And while that is not lost upon me, and I am not void of thanksgiving to Jesse's family and even my dad who God has used to make this possible. But it was never my dream. It wasn't what I dreamed about growing up, or even what the part of me that desired peace and comfort wanted in my 20's. Where's the white picket fence? (Yes, I wanted one). Where is the giant garage and multiple bedrooms? And vast backyard where kids can walk down to the creek? Where are the Friday night lights and high school football games? Where is the being able to hang out with friends I knew since childhood and visit Whitney and Cynthia in South Georgia? Where is the having enough money that we can live MORE than comfortably and get whatever I want? Where is the career in music? Those were my dreams... Yet I knew, they were not HIS dreams for me. And that part of me that knew that, the part of me that wanted to obey God at all costs and quit living my lavish lifestyle. It was that part of me that needed meaning, and found it in picking up my cross... so to speak.
So as I thought about the frustrations of moving, the frustrations of mine and Jesse's marriage, the sadness I have missing my family and people I've had to leave to follow Him.
But I couldn't forget the words I wrote in my journal as a young 20 year old kid. We'd just arrived in Hong Kong and had our first day of teaching, and I wrote, "This is it God. This type of life. This is where I fit." I'd wanted to fit as a music major, as a performer. That had been my dream my whole life. I'd wanted to fit as a sorority girl, a beautiful, popular girl, like those I idolized from youth up. I wanted the happy little family, to be adored by some guy, and just feel GOOD and comfortable all the time. But instead, it never worked out. And there was never peace. And the boys never wanted me. And I got turned down from everything I wanted musically even though I knew I must have SOME talent. My life didn't make sense... until I was in Hong Kong. Until I was living missionally and all of life was about the Kingdom of God, and none of life was about me.
That's why I kept going back... because there, life wasn't about me. That's why I stayed here, because here life wasn't about me.... At least, that is how I feel. So many times/months/years, I've kicked and screamed here because I just wanted it to be about me. I just wanted to have someone comfort me, someone minister to me, someone understand me, someone love me the most.... to feel accepted and really appreciated, not to feel like people always needed more from me and I coudln't measure up. But God wouldn't have it. And I have often felt miserable. I've only ever found peace here when life was not about me at all, and when I don't try, when I'm not trying to make it about me. And running by the East River this morning, taking in the tourist sites, watching the marginalized rummaging through the trash for food, seeing people who were obviously mentally ill struggle through the day, seeing all the tourists, dressed to impress, exploring, watching the men running the food carts as they looked exhausted and hopeless, seeing the young families taking pictures with their children, and seeing all the construction crews and maintenance workers outside the buildings, working in the hot sun to provide luxuries for other people .... reminded me of the big picture, and the main purpose
.... and I prayed, "God, enlarge my tent.... give me more opportunity to love. OPEN my eyes to the opportunities around me. Make all of my life ministry.... restore my passion, break my heart, don't give up on me. May these be the days I look back on and recall as the most devoid of fellowship with You. Grow me, woo me, pursue me, I beg. I need You. There is so much I want and think I need, but really, I need You. Please show up.... show up in this life. You've reminded me again of my purpose as Your daughter, Your disciple; please do all that which is impossible, which I cannot do. And help me bear the temptation to concentrate on myself and what I don't have.
Four miles. Fourty minutes, and how many people I passed... and how many more inside all the buildings and apartment complexes! Isaiah records, You ask 'Who shall I send? Who will go?' And he responds, here I am, send me. He began in pain though, when Uzziah died, and in his pain, he saw God. He accepted the call, but God gave him an awfully hard message to share... Nothing was glamorous about his call. Nothing was glamorous about his message.
It's always been my pain that drove me to You God. Indeed, the constant pain of my youth and the different things I was exposed to are what made me completely uncomfortable and unwilling to live the comfortable life. The constant rejection of youth and young adulthood has kept me going back to You. And the pain now keeps me from getting caught up in my own fluffy life and how I would construct it.
Oh God, help me to run more... to be in Your city more, and to be reminded of my initial call and vow to be Yours. No, I didn't know what I was getting into back then, but You knew I didn't. Still, my heart had a bit of sincerity in my vows back then... and it has much more today as I see a bit of what this life can entail, and the suffering and pain and disappointment, feeling constantly rejection, and the constant living by faith and not sight. God, remind me of Your provision in the past, and may it fuel me now to hang on and carry on. Please don't give up on me. Please use me. Strengthen me; remake me. From the inside out... my heart cries out... to You.
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