Procrastinating...

I am procrastinating. I seem to have been doing that a lot lately, which is not good because not only is it mid-term week, but I leave for Italy on Sunday. In three days. Now ask me how much packing I have gotten done:
NONE!!!
The good news is, all of my mid-terms are done, I have only one more paper to write, and then an organ lesson and choir concert before I can focus solely on Italy. *sigh*
It will be good to get away, even though it really won't be a "break", considering that I am traveling with school and performing at least one concert every day. I think I will be more tired when I come back than I am now!
Life has been complicated and confusing lately- a bit of a roller coaster to be honest. I feel like I have made irreparable mistakes this week that I may not have made at another time. I wish there were ways to unsay things, but unfortunately there aren't.
I am so tired---
I needed to write an essay tonight, but there is no way I can focus long enough to complete it. I started it....two hours ago. Here is what I have so far:
Mid-Term Essay.
Yeah, I think it's time to go to bed.

This has been the most meaningless blog posting ever, but I wanted to write something before I left.

"African Narrative"

This is another assignment for my Christian Discipleship class. After briefly studying Sub-Saharan African culture and Christianity in Africa, we were asked to put ourselves in the shoes of a native African and describe our first encounter with the Gospel.
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The hot sun beat down upon my head as I walked back to town, the Word of God in hand. The Word of God- that’s what they had said this was. The dust rises around my feet as thoughts swirl through my mind. How could this possibly be the word of God? How could something so wonderful, so powerful, be contained in such an unassuming form; paper bound by paper. I flip through the book, but cannot understand anything that is written. I know they are letters, printed in black and red on the onion skin paper, but I cannot read them. I was never able to go to school; there were too many things to take care of at home. My thoughts wandered to what awaited me at our hut. My younger brothers would be hungry, my sister’s baby would need to be fed…there might be enough food for them. My stomach grumbles but I pay it no mind; I’m used to being hungry. After a while, you barely notice the hunger pangs. I glance again at the book; maybe Adom will read the word of God to me.
While my brothers ate I went to find Adom. He was sitting outside of his parent’s hut, carving a piece of wood. “Hello Sisi. How are you today?” I hold the book out to him. “Can you read this to me?” He takes it from my hand and leafs through the pages, pursing his lips. “Where did you get this?” “From the missionaries.” He flips through it silently for a while before answering. “What do you want to hear?” I shrug my shoulders. I do not know to pick. He scans several pages before beginning to read. “When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain; and after he sat down, his disciples came to him. Then he began to speak, and taught them, saying, ‘Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven…..”
I listened to Adom read for a long time, trying to understand what the book was saying. I do not understand how I am blessed. How can my brothers’ hunger, my sister’s illness, be considered a blessing? How can I be pure in heart? Don’t I already see God? The Creator is everywhere, is present in everything. I don’t understand how I can be salt. I had always heard that Jesus was a great teacher, but now I wonder if his students were just as confused as I am. Maybe they could understand because they went to school…
I understand about sin, and about what is right and wrong. But now I am confused; what Adom says Jesus says is that we should let our enemies do bad things to us. To not give “an eye for eye” but instead to “turn the other cheek.” That isn’t how the Christians I know act. They fight back! I have heard of the fighting that is going on, between Muslims and Christians. The Christians are not turning the other cheek.
Adom asks me if he should keep reading. I feel bad, because he has tried to help me and I am disappointed. “Keep reading please,” I ask, hoping that the word of God will say something I can understand so that I can leave satisfied. Now he reads of forgiveness. Does this go along with turning the other cheek? Or is it more? I wish Jesus explained things more simply. Finally, Adom reads something that I can hold onto.
“Do not worry…” I wish I could not worry. I wish I did not have to wonder if I could feed my brothers, or if there will be enough water, or if my sister will live much longer. But, if this god takes care of the animals and plants, then surely he will take care of me? Even if I do not fully understand, Jesus says that God will provide for me. “So do not worry about tomorrow,” Adom concludes, “for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today.” He closes the book and hands it back to me. “Do not worry Sisi, you do not need to figure it out all at once.” “Thank you Adom.”
I turn and head back to my hut; my brothers are playing in mud, and my sister’s baby is crying. I tie her to my back while I do my chores, all the while thinking. I don’t need to worry, God will take care of me. Forgive others, turn the other cheek. Blessed are they who hunger and thirst…Jesus was talking about us. About my people, the African people. Adom is right; I don’t need to figure things out right away. But perhaps with Adom’s help, and the word of God, and the missionaries, I can understand.

Christianity

My first assignment in Christian Discipleship (a class I am taking this semester) was to attempt to describe Christianity and what it means to me. This is what I came up with, after having been awake for about 17 hours.

Describing Christianity is both very easy and very difficult. I say it’s simple because there are some key factors that are universal to the Church as a whole, while it becomes much more difficult when describing specific denominations and then going even further into personal theology.
If asked to describe Christianity at its most basic level, I would begin by saying that it is based on the life and teachings of Jesus the Christ as found in the New Testament. Christians believe that Jesus is the Son of God, sent to this earth to build the kingdom of heaven. Through his crucifixion and resurrection those who accept him as their Savior shall have eternal life. Pretty simple; believe in Jesus, and you’re a Christian. Then things get a little tricky.
Divisions within the Church itself provide a plethora of material to be discussed when describing Christianity. First you can establish if you are a part of the Roman Catholic church, the Protestant churches, or of the Orthodox tradition. If Orthodox, are you Russian Orthodox? Greek Orthodox? If Protestant, which denomination? Is it a liturgical church setting, or congregational? Progressive or fundamentalist? Is the Bible taken literally, or contextually? Is there more focus on personal piety or social concerns? This is just a sampling of the many diversities between denominations alone. Now take into account that every congregation is unique, varying in size, worship style, average age of members, location, political makeup of the area….the list goes on and on. I could probably use all five hundred words listing the various contrasting styles and theologies of denominations- but that wasn’t the assignment.
For me, Christianity, what it means to be a Christian, has many components, all of which are important. First off, for me, Christianity is a way of life. While I understand that for many people sitting in a pew on Sunday and taking communion once a month is as deeply committed as they want to be, I think being a Christian is so much more. As Christians, we are called to live in a Christ-like way- to not only read, but to follow and live the lessons Christ shared with the people while here on earth. As I Christian, I try my best to practice “radical acceptance” of others, to be as non-judgmental as I can be, and to minister to those in both the immediate community and on a global level. A personal relationship with God is very important, but so are the relationships formed with a faith community. Service to others is crucial (in my opinion). We are called to clothe the naked, feed the hungry, heal the sick…we cannot do that by sitting on a pew. In worship services we are given the wonderful opportunity to teach, learn, stretch our minds and personal beliefs, and to equip ourselves with the tools to GO OUT and serve the world in a Christ-like manner.
Jesus was a radical teacher, and as his followers we should be the same. We should be enacting social change and building the kingdom here on earth in practical ways, educating others on what it means to be Christian, and focusing on the church of the future. For me, personally, Jesus is not “Mr. Roger’s in sandals”, he is not my boyfriend, I even have trouble saying he is the “lover of my soul” as some songs state. He is my teacher, leader, and Savior. A man that put down the system, rebuked the leaders of the time, and took care of those who had no voice. As his followers, we should do some of the same.**but, in a peaceful, non-violent manner, of course.

Eavesdropping...

I was eating my "lunch" today at Panera (I say "lunch" because it was, in actuality, 10am, therefor really being more of a breakfast/brunch meal) when I began listening to a conversation between two customers at the table right next to me. I don't normally eavesdrop, but the topic of discussion interested me, and I KNOW they knew I could hear them.
Anyway.
Several Bible study groups meet there on Saturday mornings, and these two men were discussing Exodus. Specifically the final plague in which God kills all the Egyptian firstborns. They began talking about sacrifice- something about how this was the first mention of sacrifice, which is totally not true...I really struggle with this part of the Hebrew Bible, and it was all I could do to not jump into their conversation with my own views. The part that REALLY got me was when they began discussing the blood on the lintels and doorposts. "It's the first symbol of the cross!" Sacrifice, "cross"like markings, all this leading to Christ....
There is a difference!
Why do people feel the need to link every possible- thing!- in the Bible to the crucifixion and/or Christ!? The Exodus out of Egypt happened thousands of years before Christ, the story was recorded for a completely different audience, even the portrayal of God is different. Why can't we see these books in a way that they were intended- try to understand them contextually?
Personally, I see no connection between the slaughter of (some) innocents and the personal sacrifice that Jesus chose to accept. The key word is "chose". The Egyptians had no choice- they were under Pharaoh's rule, he called all the shots. They had no way of knowing what was coming, of the suffering that would occur. Jesus knew what was going to happen; he knew and accepted it, had time to struggle with and come to terms with it. The two incidences cannot be compared to each other.
And if we begin thinking every horizontal and vertical line that intersects suggests the crucifixion...
I don't want to seem close-minded, I really do try to be open-minded and to accept what people believe. And I know that, in the upcoming years, I will need to be even more welcoming of other's opinions and beliefs. I don't know why this conversation riled me up.
Guess it all goes to show-
you shouldn't listen in on other people's conversations.

Out with the old?

After looking back and realizing that I have not posted anything in quite a while, I thought I would take this time (while I am unable to sleep!) to do what most people are doing tonight; reflecting on the past year, and what lies ahead.
2008 was an interesting year; parts of it were wonderful, while other parts were a real struggle. But that's the old, and we're supposed to move on to the new, right?
So 2009, here I come.
I really am very excited about this upcoming year; there will be so many changes, so many adventures to be had...I love adventures. : ) Humor me, as I list a few of the "new" things this year will bring (I am a list fanatic- I love lists).
-practicum with DeLyn in music and worship and stuff
-senior recital
-going to Italy
-graduating from an undergraduate university
-doing mission work in Honduras
-going to seminary!!!

Things I am not necessarily excited about but that can't be avoided:
-six months of counseling (because I "failed" my psychological...if I wasn't stressed before, I certainly am now!)
-leaving Fork
-taxes

I know I keep referring to this phrase, but I have to say it again: "Out with the old, in with the new." I am finding that I don't agree with this. A part of me desperately wants to be able to just throw away any and all painful or embarrassing memories- and yet, we need these. They help shape who we are, provide learning opportunities about ourselves and others, and sometimes give a new perspective (<- this may not be the right word- I'm also very tired) on things. For example, my first college experience. When I left Peabody, I was miserable! It was a struggle to get out of bed in the morning in order to go to class. From there I bounced around, with less than satisfactory college experiences, until I came to Shenandoah. I can only describe coming to Shenandoah as coming home; for the first time, out of all the schools I had "tried on," I felt like I belonged. Would it really have been so special, would I really have been so in tune to that feeling, if I hadn't first experienced all those negative feelings at other schools? I don't think so. And I don't regret attending all those schools- looking back I can clearly see a journey in my leading up to my call today.
I think this applies to all parts of our lives. Take our "love" lives. It's cliche, but is true; there is something to be learned from every relationship. All too often, it seems lessons learned come from the school of hard knocks, learned the hard way. Sometimes it isn't until after we have healed that we can step back, and look back, to see what we can take from that experience. But sometimes, even after we think we've healed, those old hurts will come out of nowhere to bite you in the butt. Even without that, sometimes in looking back we are able to see recurring themes. Maybe it's how we do (or don't) communicate, or how we react to a specific thing no matter the person we're with. Maybe it's not a thing, per say, but an actual person, that keeps popping in and out of your life.
This may just be rambling, but my point, in all of this, is that it's important to remember. All too often people tell you to forget- but I don't want to. I don't want to forget the lessons I've learned, or the people that have touched my life, or the things, both good AND bad, that have shaped me into the person that I am today.
I look forward to 2009- I think, and pray, that it brings a lot of positive change for me.

And that's all I have to say about that.

Memories of Flurries Scurry Through My Mind

It is about quarter of eight on a seemingly ordinary Monday in the month of November. And yet, a bit of magic seems to hang in the air, a feeling that only one thing can bring:

SNOW

That's right, tonight we had our first snowfall here in Winchester. What started as rain turned into that wonderful, flaky white stuff that settles anywhere cold touches. As the flakes fall and blanket the neighborhood, my memories are released.
There is something about snow that brings out the children in everyone. Kids and adults alike gather at windows to see if it is sticking, and are glued to the television, praying that school will be canceled, maybe even work. Men bring out their snow plows, children their snow-boots, and wives and mothers prepare hot beverages for those who venture out into the cold. I dislike winter immensely, for many reasons, but my heart still beats wildly at the prospect of the first snowfall.
Today, at even the mention of snow, I was jolted from my desire to hibernate with a sense of anticipation and excitement; SNOW! Everyone has many memories of snow, but there are a few specific ones that I would like to take a moment to share.
I still remember the first snow of my freshman year of college. I was spending the night in what we fondly referred to as 2East, the dorms at Peabody. My friends and I were staying up way too late, watching cartoon reruns and the weather channel. We were about to give up and go to bed (it was about 2am) when a student came running into the lounge, announcing that it was snowing. We shrieked with glee and leapt to our feet, grabbing whatever shoes were closest as we ran outside. I stood outside in my pajama pants and camisole, my friend George's fleece hanging off my body, arms outstretched and mouth opened wide, catching those first, clean flakes on my tongue. Our friend Audrey was from California, and this was her first experience with snow. "It's so cold!" she had exclaimed, and we laughed. Someone took a picture, I don't know who, but I'm glad they did (see above).
One of my strongest snow memories is also one of my fondest memories of my friend David. This was also my freshman year at Peabody, although it was much later in winter. The snow was coming down in buckets, filling Mt.Vernon Square and turning the normally gray city streets into a temporary winter wonderland. I waited outside my classroom excitedly, literally bouncing off the walls in excitement. David's class was let out and he left the room, talking with friends. Unable to contain myself, I leapt over, grabbing his hand in mine. "David it's snowing!" I shrieked, eyes wild with glee. "C'mon!" I dragged him away from his friends, and together we booked it down the spiral staircase, through the lobby, and out into the city street. Still dragging him by the hand, we crossed the street into the park where the grass was barely peaking out above the mounds of white. Letting go of his hand, I whooped and ran through the snow, slipping and falling. David laughed; he had such a nice laugh. I remember he made a snowball with his bare hands- I think he threw it at me, resulting in more laughter. I was cold, wet, my cheeks were flushed---and I was so happy.
And so I remember these times tonight with fondness, but my heart is a little sad too.
Because...

....a very small part of me.....

......wishes I could be in that moment again.

It is 9:15 NEW time, but my body still feels like it is 10:15. Considering I work in the morning, that would mean it is bed time. But it's only 9:15!! Gah!
Last week was horrific- and it was supposed to be relaxing after the week before. *sigh* That's alright, it only means that this week has no option but to be better. I mean, really, very little could happen that would make this week worse than the past two. I don't want to rant about the details; everything has been taken care of and/or fixed, so I can once again focus on school, work, and graduate school applications.
I have so much on my brain right now- and my heart for that matter- that I am finding it difficult to focus on my studies. I don't know why all of these things are coming up now; I know I need to at least think about them, but quite frankly I don't have time for this! And yet, I can't, and shouldn't, ignore these things...what a dilemma.
Totally off topic, I've noticed a very interesting/strange thing. Have you ever found yourself suddenly thinking of someone for no reason at all, only to then go out and find you've received a message from them? This has actually happened to me, on multiple occasions, but only with one individual. I had no reason to be thinking about them; in fact, I was asleep! I was sleeping, and having some sort of dream, and suddenly they were there, in the dream. I woke up, thinking it strange, took care of some stuff, then checked my e-mail and found a message from them that had been sent while I was sleeping. Too weird. Just thought I'd share.
Back to school work...I was reading the book of Dueteronomy today for my Hebrew Bible class. Let me just say, out of all of the books of the Hebrew Bible, Dueteronomy is right up there with Leviticus and Numbers as far as interesting narratives go. I haven't even gotten to the largest section, which contains the 613 Judaic laws. SIX HUNDRED AND THIRTEEN!! I am finding myself struggling with the God portrayed in the Old Testament. I know that it was written in a different context, to a different audience, and for a different purpose than the New Testament, but still. I am sure I will have more to write about this later.
I apologize for the missing train of thought from this entry, but I did title these as musings.