Sunday Blogday

I've decided to make Sunday my blog day. I feel like I don't update enough these days.  I mean, I don't suppose there's any prescribed time line for blogging, but every Sunday I think I'll try to share a little of what life has been like in the past week.  Or if nothing else, a little of what's been going on in my head.

This week was exam week at the academy (yay midterms!) so I've stayed pretty busy and pretty run down.  A twist of fate (so to speak) left 9-11th grade with the ability to get out of school at noon Wednesday through Friday, which was probably the biggest blessing I can think of.  But, in the midst of the chaos, I started the week on a pretty low note. Discouraged, tired, and overall very negative in my attitude towards things like waking up, going to school, teaching high schoolers, etc.

My friend Liz (Elizabeth McCormick, people...go see how amazing she is) is serving in Mexico at an orphanage right now, and about the middle of the week a facebook message popped up on my screen and Liz, knowing I was feeling a bit downtrodden, was challenging me to join her in this idea of counting blessings, writing down the little things every day that make life beautiful. The things that reflect the face of God in the midst of chaos and confusion.  A few things from her list: (which was much longer than this)
teeth flashing smiles in darkness
warm blankets 
jagged shadows on brightly painted walls
running barefoot

So I decided to join her.  Now, I have to admit I was slow to the draw- I only have a few things on my list right now, but I plan to add to it every day.  I know there was this facebook trend of "I'm thankful for" statuses approaching Thanksgiving last year, and it was nice, but I have to say some days it felt like reading lists of "look how good my life is" instead of "I'm so undeservingly blessed."  So this week especially, and hopefully every day I have in Africa, I want to look for the small things that can bring joy to my life.  The details that God took time creating and weaving into my day just to give me a smile and breathe some life into his weary daughter, whose circumstances aren't always bright. So far, here are a few things I've found...

raindrops on a tin roof, and the cool air the rains bring
Abi's tiny little braids and her sweet voice calling hi to "Aly and Allison," always in that order

late night giggles from Pam when she hears me doing dumb things
the joy someone middle schoolers got from toilet papering my car
the colorful organized chaos of the market, and the baby sleeping through all of it

warm pavement on bare feet walking home in the rain

Here's to you, Jesus. Thanks for brightening the circumstances. Thanks for the details.

all our fears are washed away

"When we see you, we find strength to face the day.  In your presence, all our fears are washed away."
I led our church in this refrain this morning.  Proclaimed it to the body of believers with which I worship.

Let me just say, the past week has involved a lot of chaos for me. My professional life (school) seems to be spinning out of control.  I won't give you details, but we started the year short staffed and are 5 upper school teachers shorter since then.  I feel overworked in every way, and feel like I haven't the ability to do my job well.  One week back from Christmas and I'm already feeling the weight of burn out.  I don't say this to ask for pity, though your prayers are greatly desired.  I would really love that.
The point, though, is that on Friday, I was pretty convinced I couldn't face the next week.  I was ready to be done with the stress and chaos and hard work that never seems to be quite enough.  And then, this morning...

When we see You, we find strength to face the day.

I mentioned earlier feeling incapable of doing my job well.  I've discovered recently that I elevate success to a much higher place than I thought.  There are some strange reasons for that, but of course it all hits back at pride, in a roundabout way. I am terrified of failing.  Realizing that this sounds terribly arrogant, I'll say I've never had much trouble with academics.  I'm good at school.  I AM an academic. I didn't ace all my classes in college, but I came out well.  Greek was a challenge I gave myself, and was one of the first times in my LIFE that I risked failure of my own accord.  I mean, I recall the risk and subsequent embarrassment of a senior piano recital (I am not a pianist)...but I didn't feel like I had much choice in that.  And for the record, I did try to back out.  I quit things when I realize I'm not gonna succeed.  When I don't do well on something, my identity is challenged a little.  Allison is good at stuff.  And when she's not good at stuff, she doesn't attempt that stuff.  Therefore, Allison (almost) always succeeds.  So when Allison fails, I have a hard time reconciling that with my view of myself.  Again, I realize how arrogant and hollow I sound.  This is me being vulnerable.  I've been terrified and my identity has been challenged in this whole teaching thing this year.  It's not easy.  And I don't always succeed in the ways I would like to.  And I don't know who I am. And that's terrifying.  So I want to quit.  And then, this morning...

In your presence all our fears are washed away.

Is it any wonder the next line of the song is "Hosanna!"?  It's an eruption of praise, of joy, of pure delight that God restores my dignity, tells me my failure is inevitable and his love is unchanging, removes my fear and confusion, identifies me with his Son, and gives me strength to face what's ahead.  Just enough for today, so that I'll continue to seek his face and to hunger for his presence.  It's the only way I can survive.

You are the God who saves us! Worthy of all our praises!  Hosanna!! Come have your way among us, we welcome you here, Lord Jesus!

Home

There are a million things I could write about tonight. It's been a while, and in the short (read: VERY LONG) month since I last posted, so many things have happened.  Christmas programs, dozens of graded papers, 3-4 days of airplanes and airports, months of planning coming to fruition in one big surprise, hugs, laughter, tears, hellos, goodbyes, and lots of turkey-eating.
My time home was a huge blessing, and a much-needed period of rest and escape.  It came on the heels of a slight emotional breakdown, and ushered in a few more, but was truly a blessing.  It's amazing how a change of scenery can offer a change of perspective.  Sometimes we need to escape where we are to see our surroundings a little more clearly.
In the past month, I think I've started to come to grips with how much sacrifice has been involved in this whole journey.  My heart has been divided between two homes, and two groups of people I love very much. And it seems easy to stand in the middle and hold on to both, but no matter how hard you try, the thick ties binding you to each extreme begin to slip from your grip.  If you don't let go of one, perhaps you'll be stretched too far... Perhaps you'll never return to your normal, proportional, balanced self.
Every repetition of "just six more months" in the last 3 weeks heightened my awareness of the stretch.  I felt it in every "we can't wait til your home for good."  And though the well-meaning loved ones surely meant to comfort, my discomfort grew each time.  A little more stretching...a little more distance between one half of me and the other.  A little more of the irreversible change.
I started asking why. Why me, God?  Don't you know I have this tendency?  Don't you know this is more than I can handle?  Why would you choose me for this journey?  Why does it have to be so hard? Why is one home so easy and so comfortable, and the other so difficult, but so fantastically purposeful?  Why are there 8 stupid hours between the two?  Why is communication so tough?  Why can't I be rich enough to make this whole thing easier? (Because, though money does not buy happiness, it sure does help if you wanna see or talk to someone on the other side of the world.)
Well, God didn't really give me an answer. But here I am. Thankful for this opportunity, slightly bitter at times that it isn't what I'd like it to be, and often hurting that whether my time here ends, or whether it continues, the stretching and longing and missing and distance will always be there.  That's how you can pray for the missionaries you know.  Their hearts will be torn in cruel ways- between the people and places God has called them to love, and the people and places they were born loving.  And neither of the loved groups will fully understand until they've been called to the same journey.  Someone will always feel hurt or left behind.  And that is how I know this earth is not home.  It just can't be.  And I guess I'm glad.
So, six months til I will leave Lilongwe for Mississippi.  I feel the clock ticking even as I type.  I feel the questions that aren't yet answered about the future.  Whether my return is "for good" I cannot say, though I highly doubt it.  One thing I do know is that I won't be home for good until I've reached my eternal dwelling with Christ Jesus.

Then Jesus said to them, "If anyone wishes to come after me, he must deny himself, take up his cross daily, and follow me.

  As they were going along the road, someone said to him, “I will follow you wherever you go.” And Jesus said to him, “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” To another he said, “Follow me.” But he said, “Lord, let me first go and bury my father.” And Jesus said to him, “Leave the dead to bury their own dead. But as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God.” Yet another said, “I will follow you, Lord, but let me first say farewell to those at my home.” Jesus said to him, “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.”

(Luke 9:57-62 ESV)

Now great crowds accompanied him, and he turned and said to them, “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple. For which of you, desiring to build a tower, does not first sit down and count the cost, whether he has enough to complete it?
(Luke 14:25-28 ESV)