Quote of the Day

Only the person who has experienced light and darkness, war and peace, rise and fall, only that person has truly experienced life. - Stefan Zweig

I have experienced all these and more... But I wouldn't be as bold as to say that I have yet to fully experience life in all its temporal splendor.

Today two very iconic figures passed away just a handful of hours apart. In hearing of these celebrities' passings, I'm reminded of the reality of death. It's sobering to be sure.

I have no idea how many breaths are left in these lungs nor how many beats this heart will toll before it is forever silent. Who knows? No one does, except the One who first breathed life in us (me). In all honesty, I don't like it, not one iota. Being the planner that I am, I'd like to be prepared so I might attempt to accomplish things I've been too financially/emotionally hesitant to tackle.

But it's not up to me, is it?

All I can do - all any of us can do really - is to be good stewards of this gift of life we've been given. To love freely. To give and sacrifice for one another without keeping tabs. To pour out grace, mercy and forgiveness. To reflect Him who gives life and conquered death.

After the Dust Has Settled and the Cannons Have Cooled.

I am in mourning over a friendship I knew had ended months ago. One that I had hoped would still work, despite differences. Sadly, it cannot. At least not right now. Perhaps never.

Last night, after all was confirmed, I went to Centennial Park to join the crowds watching Batman that night. I had hoped it would distract my heart and mind for at least a few hours. But, I was in no mood to watch. Instead, I called my good friend Jess and poured out my heart to her.

I cried. A lot. Tears at being so hurt. Tears for hurting people. And I wonder where God is here. What purpose there was to all of this. What I am to learn. How I am to grow and stand as bruised as I am.

I had always lived by a motto of hoping for the best and preparing for the worst. But, in this situation, I don't know what the best is. I don't know what to hope for nor what to hope in for that matter.

I just pray nothing worse happens. I don't think I can handle it.

A Dangerous Combination

I realized today that I am an old soul with childlike dreams and ideals.

It's a dangerous combination.

Utter Randomness

Yes. Randomness. It is Tuesday after all. Tuesdays are sort of like middle children - forgotten and under-appreciated.

Dear Tuesday, this one's for you.

Happy (Birth)Days

Last night a bunch of people gathered for a friend's birthday. It was my first invite to something celebratory as that since moving here and it warmed my heart to see her face light up as she opened the present some friends had chipped in to get her. Her face was illumined with utter joy, shock and thankfulness. Like a child opening up presents on Christmas day she squealed with delight and exclaimed repeatedly how grateful she was. It was a good night -- full of laughter, wine, sweets and song. It's nights like that that remind me why I love this town. Why I was drawn here in the first place. It will hopefully be part of the reason I stay... Should I stay.


Aging Gracefully

I read this verse today and it made me laugh:

Gray hair is a crown of splendor; it is attained by a righteous life. (Proverbs 16:31)

Sometimes I forget God has a sense of humor.

"Martha, Martha! How Does Your Garden Grow?"

Gardens are not made by singing, "Oh, how beautiful," and sitting in the shade. - Rudyard Kipling

Living here in Nashville, I've been perplexed and saddened at the overwhelming sense of individualism and self-centeredness. I see it most prominently, unfortunately, in the eyes and walks of those who profess the same faith I do. Their relationship with Christ, like every other relationship in their lives, is theirs -- you will have no access to it unless it is at the volition of the individual. They set the rules for how long or deep it will go, of how deep they'll let God move or impact them. And of how comfortable they are in making Him visible/tactile in their lives. Like every relationship, they determine and set the guidelines for how they encounter God and how/when they meet with Him. I'm learning in my own life that I have done the same. (They say you will see your deepest sins in the people around you.)

There are days when I want to ask people what Christ, His death and resurrection means to them because more often than not confessions won't match character and actions will deceive words. We all want to say that we believe Him, but only when it's convenient.

I'm not saying that we need to be fanatics (I certainly am not one!) or that we need to be clanging bells with our faiths (definitely not) but there is concern when faith/belief is expressed so subtly that it could easily be overlooked and missed. Forgotten.

I am relearning that I need to have Christ at the center of my life and every relationship whether "Christian" or "secular." If He is not, than I am lost to my heart's emotions, the waves that crash and break and disrupt the stillness and confidence He provides, the dark thoughts that flood my mind in times of utter loneliness. I will drown in disillusionment, in the expectations of myself/others, in the brokenheartedness and foggy, sludgy mire of a life not focused on Him.

I need Christ. I need for Him to matter.

Some may read this and think me pretentious, haughty, naive, accusing, judgmental or lofty, but this -- this need to have Christ drive every moment, is me -- this is what my heart longs for and needs to survive. This is the air that fills my lungs, the strength to take another step, the courage to stand. This is how I must tend to this garden. This is how and where God will take plow, shears and hoe to hand to remove the weeds of selfishness, self-reliance, doubt, fear and worry. I need for my heart and mind to be more intentional and proactive in their actions. (I fail at this. Daily.)

There's a lot of work that need to be done here. A lot.

Dede (Edit)

I had a very deep conversation with a fellow Ellie's Run for Africa volunteer named Dede this morning.

I've always been drawn to older people ever since I was a child. Perhaps it's the general sense of calmness that surrounds them, the quiet assurance and confidence that comes from living life and learning from the many mistakes of the past? I don't know. All I know is that I was completely at ease with Dede as I poured out my heart to her under the shade of a tall tree at the edge of the course marked out along the grassy terrain of Percy Warner Park.

We had met on Friday and decided to be partners in tearing down one of the tents (a proposedly furious storm that night threatened to rip apart every tent pitched up earlier in the afternoon). We talked a bit about my move here to Nashville, about her move here from Texas years ago when she and her husband were still dating. I shared a tiny morsel of my family and my past.

This morning as I headed over to the park to help tear-down at the conclusion of the race, I ran into Dede again. Her face lit up, she ran over to me, wrapped her arms around me and told me she had been praying for me last night. I was touched.

A couple hours passed and I wandered around talking to a couple musician-friends/acquaintances, people I'd met back home in Philly when I helped out with some of their shows. It wasn't until the end of the morning that I ran into Dede again.

We stood under that tree and talked. I poured out my heart -- all the frustrations, fears and hurts I'd experienced in the short time I've been in Nashville. She understood. Completely. And as I shared about 2 friends who'd hurt me the most in my "short" time here, the ones who've caused me the greatest heartache and from whom I've felt the most rejected, she could only say 2 words: Release them. Release them from the obligations your broken/needy heart has placed on them, from the hurt they've caused you, from their inability to understand you (or want to for that matter). When you release them, you'll finally be able to fully forgive them.

There is wisdom to be gleaned from our elders, from those to whom we've been fortunate to be bound to in God's beautifully full family.

I am thankful for Dede and am thankful for each of you -- for the ways you pray for, encourage and challenge me to grow. For the ways you remind me of the Truth that I can't seem to see during the hailstorms of life and in my stubbornness.

A Storm's a Brewin'

After the goings on at work today, I'm nearly positive that my time there is coming to an end. It's been a daily concern lately, wondering when I'll be called into the director's office and told that they won't be needing me to come in anymore. Looking at my paltry "savings" and wondering how long I can realistically "live" here before I start making plans to move back home where I will be in the same situation I am now, but living rent free.

I am physically queasy. My innards are nervous and knotted. I want to rip my skin off because all of this discomfort.

Tonight as I lay here on my bed, the fear and worries molesting every part of my heart, mind and soul, it rains. A storm has been brewing all day and the clouds have finally released their tears. The sky is grumbling as lightning plays a game of peek-a-boo behind heavy blue-gray clouds.

Part of me wants to go and stand in the middle of the storm -- to be physically and emotionally drenched. I want the outpouring of heaven to wash away all these fears.

I have no idea what to make of this, nor what tomorrow will hold. And, quite honestly, I hate it!

It's sink or swim, fight or flight time and all I'm feeling is defeated, deflated and discouraged beyond belief.

If you're in a praying mood... now is the time.

Retro-Active

I'm quieting my mind at the moment, having just left AllieDearest's house a short while ago where we watched a New In Town and chatted about Nashville life (men). I feel full now, even as my stomach threatens to growl and demand (post-)midnight snackage.

Throughout the day I've been considering whether or not I should return to Philly. Life is hard here and is so full of uncertainties. Songs and chords left open, unresolved. I wonder if I'm made of tougher stuff than I think. And wonder if wisdom would agree with my rationale: that going back home would be easiest and the least traumatic on my finances.

I've no idea what next month looks like. I may (or may not) have a job by then. As thankful as I am that my church-life here is starting to shape up nicely, I'm worried about a lot of things.

I know I ought not worry, but I do.

Life and Death and Everything in Between / Vagabondage

The Meaning of Life: The Great Debate (This One's Not)
There is a sudden urge to think of deeper things tonight.

It's still Monday as I type this, but just barely. My mind is sluggish as I've been fighting the pull to nap and sleep in fear of waking up before the dawn (again). As I recline here on my bed furnished by my very generous roommate and as I fight the desire to go out and buy more cute summer dresses (a first for me) and sandals I can't afford right now, I think about death and life and everything in between. There is a sadness stirring up. It's a sigh deep within me.

I think about the friends and family I left behind in Philadelphia, about security and creature comforts. I feel for my uncle and his family as they grieve the loss of his mother last Sunday, just short of a year after his father's passing. Wishing I were nearer. Wishing I could be there for my cousins. But, I am here in Nashville, almost 900 miles and 3.5 states away.

And, oddly, in thinking about transient and eternal things, of life and love and sickness and health, I think about the footprints we leave -- about the trace shadows and whispers of ourselves that echo in the souls of the people we touch. I think about all that we leave behind -- the fragments of self we are so stingy to dole out in the craze of schedules and appointments, of deadlines and dreams. And, I wonder if people will see me when I leave or the One in whose shadow I so drunkenly and crookedly stumble to follow.


Life as a Vagabond
I've been thinking a lot about the word home. I never quite felt at home in Philly and am definitely not feeling that here in Nashville. I fee like a vagabond most days -- wandering about the day, filling up time and space. Directionless. Lost. Bewildered. Alone.

Just last week JWoo asked how I was feeling about my move here. She wasn't the first to ask that week as I had a few others checking in on me as well. As I told her how settling in was proving to be slower and more difficult than I'd imagined, she asked if there was somewhere else I needed/wanted to be, if possibly another move was in order. The only response I could give was a shrug and an "I have absolutely no idea!" But, the more I ponder that, the more I realize like AnnieP shared last month at Bible study, I will never feel at home here. Perhaps I'm not meant to? Perhaps this constant uneasiness that I'm able to suppress most days was birthed from a deep longing and need inside me? Maybe this unyielding ache is my soul's beacon (beckoning) for the God who breathed life into it? A tracking signal for the One who already knows me, has already found me, and who never lost me in the first place?

I wonder how to remain present when all I can think of is the future and what it has/doesn't have in store. I wonder which of these friendships and ties will break and wither as I begin to feel the pain and hear the tearing and fraying of the ropes that bind us/me together. I wonder at my calling and purpose in life, about job security and benefits and all those things "entitled" to me. I long for something permanent, but am living day-by-day in the temporal. It's as if I'm staring into the face of an ominous black cloud and shaking in confusion.

I'm hoping in time I'll realize (and remember) that I'm not going head-to-head with some mysterious smoke monster, but simply walking in the cool shade of my Father's shadow.

Rolling Thunder, Hear My Cry!

Nashville has had its share of torrential storms in the past month. Today, for instance, sheets of rain fell from the sky unexpectedly while I sat at my desk and watched.

The funny thing about these storms is that they have a way of unearthing debris. As soon as they stop the pond just outside my office floods with broken branches and litter of all sorts. At once the pristine waterfront is covered with messiness.

It's a metaphor for life I think. Storms are evident in our lives and they will come and go unexpectedly leaving behind debris. Things we've kept hidden so well will rise to the surface and the messiness of our lives will show itself for all the world to see.

But, as with all things, life springs from the destruction and cleansing comes from the letting go of the waste in our lives.

The rain, the tears, bring a freshness that's often hard to see as you're running for cover and waiting for the storms to pass.

"Tell Me All Your Thoughts On God"

Today, after a gruesome 9-hours at work, I, on a whim, headed to Centennial Park to read. Up until now, I'd never done more than drive past it, but today was just too glorious a day to waste sitting in a coffee shop (however wonderful Fido can be).

I parked my car, pulled out my yoga mat from the trunk and found a quiet spot under the shade of 2 tall trees just a stone's throw from the lake and its fountains.

As I lay there reading, the last bits of sun dancing softly through the trees, I took a moment to breathe it all in. Reclined under the coolness of these tall arbors I was reminded of how very small I am in the grand scale of things. And yet, my Creator sees even me. As I observed the birds and squirrels dancing in the trees, a peace filled my heart (a first here) as I reflected on Matthew 6:26. And as I reflected, I heard God speak into the depths of me a promise to provide and satisfy my deepest longings and needs. A call to trust and wait on Him, my loving Father and attentive Creator. A command to set my worries, anxieties, fears and hurts aside.

Live each day with the courage and boldness to follow your convictions.
Love as I have loved you... even if others reject you.
Forgive.
Wait.
Trust.
Show compassion. Breathe mercy.
Love and forgive. Again and again and again...
Be joyful no matter what the situation (even when life hurts like hell) because you are dearly loved.
Find your hope and satisfaction in the One who knows you completely, intimately and wholly.

100!

Back when Korea was still war-torn and "developing", when infant mortality was mercilessly high, people valued each moment and breath of life. If a child survived her first 100days of life, the entire neighborhood was invited to join the family in celebration of the child's dol. The dol was (and is) a celebration of prosperity and longevity, of a strong and healthy life ahead.

June 7th marks my first 100days here in Nashville. It seems so insignificant to many, but to me it's symbolic because, in ways, I am an infant here. Everything is new and unfamiliar. Nothing is what I'd thought it would be. I am learning each day and finding the strength to walk. I am naive to this life here. But, I am growing more and more into who I am to become. These tentative steps I take now will become graceful strides wreaking of confidence soon enough.

I thought I'd never survive this long. I thought this day would never come. There were days I wanted to die and others when I just wanted to crawl under covers and weep (and I did... more often than I care to admit).

As stupid as it sounds, I want to celebrate with my lovely Nashville-folk, particularly those who've seen me through the roughest patches during the last 3months, when to be around me was unbearably uncomfortable and unnerving.

Hmmm... Maybe a picnic in Centennial Park is in order?

EDIT: A friend has brought to my attention an error I'd made. 100 days is a baek il not a dol. I was wrong! Either way, it's a long time coming. And I mean a LONG time coming!!!