The Beginning of the End
This is it. My final year of the MDiv program has begun. It is with mixed emotion that I begin the journey to the end of my degree. The end is now, finally, in sight and now that I see the end, I begin to dread it.
I realized over the weekend that I have become part of a family. As I sat with my cohort and we shared and cried and laughed and ate and prayed I realized that I love these people, despite my better judgment. This strange group that was thrown together just two years ago has become my family. Bill put his arm around me during worship on Saturday afternoon and as I lay my head on his shoulder I realized that we are truly bound together, this cohort and I, with a love I had never before known. Bonhoeffer's
Life Together has become my reality, and not just a good book. I am a part of a divinely ordained community. I am part of something so immense and so intricate, so challenging and so rewarding, so beautiful and so painful, that I can hardly comprehend it. And the beauty is I do not need to comprehend it, I only need to live within it, embrace it, and enjoy it. I have become a part of something extraordinary. Already I am beginning to mourn the day when I leave this loving family.
Yet, I rejoice. I am so excited to see what this year brings. New faces arrive and familiar loving hearts remain. And I cannot wait to be surrounded by them for a year. This is where I belong, living this life in this community. While I may not be able to stay here for much more than a year, I know that I will belong with and to these people in some way for the rest of my existence. And I cannot imagine a better place to belong.
One at a time, please.
How is it that I can go years without finding myself attracted to a single man, and then suddenly I find myself attracted to too many of them at once? Where have all of these great guys come from, and why have they all arrived here now?
This is some grand cosmic joke. God is laughing at me in this moment. Perhaps he is trying to disprove my long-standing excuse for not dating by proving the existence of men worth dating. Point taken. But now I still cannot date them, for I cannot decide who is most worthy among them. Now, surrounded by an abundance of amazing men, I still stand alone.
Way too seriously
Why must people take everything so seriously? It gets on my nerves. Lately I have just been angry with life and angry with God for calling me to something so hard after I have already lived a life that was harsh and challenging. I just want to rest some days, and I don't get to, so from time to time I get upset at where I am and where I am going and how unfair that all seems. But when I get like that, everybody around me seems to get upset.
The Harrisons seemed to understand, so I guess not everybody got upset, but the majority of people who heard of my angst and the miserable way that I felt a few days ago said really stupid things in response, because they just cannot handle that I do not jump up and down for joy over my seminary experience and my call to future ministry. Actually, it is the lack of money and time and the way that I wish I could do and be more than I am presently that frustrates me, and not the seminary or the call--but the two go hand in hand right now.
"You shouldn't begrudge your call." "Maybe you don't belong here." "Why don't you just....(insert myriad of reasonable for others but impossible for single moms suggestions for how to run one's life here)" Everyone seems to have a solution to the problem. It has not occurred to many people that I don't want them to solve an equation and give proofs.
I just want to be angry. I just want to feel sorry for myself and for my kid for one stinking day. I just want to let God know that I am tired and that things can get easier anytime. I just want to let out some frustrations. I just want to vent/rant/yell/cry for one flipping day. Why does everyone need to take that so seriously. The world is not ending because I am having a tough day. Just allow me a tough day. I deserve one every now and then.
We are told time and again to rejoice in our sufferings. I don't think that means to ignore our sufferings. I think in order to rejoice in them, we need to live in them. Someday soon I will be able to rejoice that God has brought me through this trying time. I will remember all the great times here with friends and my cohort, all the great education and the "aha" moments that transformed me. I may even rejoice within the trying times. Even as I struggled through a challenging weekend, I laughed a lot and had a great time with friends. But I don't think that I need to always enjoy every moment of every thing that God has called me to. If I did, what exactly would be the sacrifice that I have made on behalf of my faith?
Jesus said in this world I would have trouble. He knew the sacrifice would be unpleasant--he experienced that sacrifice firsthand. And in the moments before the greatest sacrifice of all time he cried out and sweat and bled and became frustrated and begged for something other than the call that had been given him. If my savior is able to cry out in anguish, why am I not afforded the same struggle? I should be.
The challenges that brought me to the painful place where I was the other day are still present in this day, but they don't feel as challenging now. I have been given grace to deal with the call on my life. God will continue to give that grace, so it matters little whether my friends and colleagues can extend such. Still, I wish I could just tell them to lighten up. Stop trying to figure out how to solve the problem that is my life and simply be there to hold me while I cry over it. Stop taking everything so seriously.
Productivity
Today I read a book, wrote two papers, did some research on San Jose, Costa Rica, cleaned at least one third of my apartment, and emailed Julie to catch up. It feels good to get stuff done. The past week has been a blur of activity, but nothing seemed to be getting done. Today felt productive.
I once took this self-test thing about work styles and found that I am a person whose work needs to be driven by passion. If I am not passionate about what I am doing, then I supposedly won't feel fulfilled. Maybe today is an example of such. Over the past week I have done all sorts of things and worked really hard, but the only day that felt productive was today--when I was doing things that are important to me. My studies, my home, my friends, and my future country of residence are all things that I really care about--things I am passionate about. That is why today felt good.
Now, if only I could find a way to only do the things that I am passionate about. That would be perfection. Every moment would then feel productive. Or maybe it wouldn't, because then all the moments would be the same. Maybe I need mundane moments to contrast with the ones that are productive. After all, I can't be passionate about everything. Running to the store for milk probably should not be fulfilling. That reminds me. I forgot to run to the store. Back to the mundane. So long productivity.
