3-15-2010
I am a sinner. It doesn’t matter what you see on the outside; how good, innocent, or godly I look. My heart is ridden with thoughts and desires that do not come from God. I long for Jesus—for Him to consume me with His love. I recognize that He is the only thing good within me.
I believe that God is primarily a relational Being. It is the only way I can explain my creation, my salvation, and God’s interaction in my everyday life. Sure God is many things, but every time in Scripture Jesus or the God of Old Testament refers to His relationship with us/His church, He does not use abstract parables with objects, but practical parables involving relationships. He refers to His church as His bride; He calls us children of God adopted by grace. God is love.
Hosea is a man that had to go through some of the pain that God goes through everyday. Through this man’s life, God illustrated the heartbreak that He goes through when His children continue to live in sin and reject His leading and involvement. Hosea was married to a whore. If the church is Jesus’ bride, then I would have to say He is married to the whorest of whores.
When I sin, I feel guilt—I go to God and ask for forgiveness. I tell God to create in me a clean heart (Psalm 51) and tell Him to be faithful and just in forgiving my sin since I am confessing (1 John 1:9). I claim Jesus as my righteousness The scriptural passages that I base my forgiveness on are largely built on the relational component of God’s grace, however, I treat my forgiveness as a technicality.
I go to God and say, “Lord, forgive me.” I tell Him that I have fallen short once again and cry out for the righteousness of Jesus. This is all good, but to be honest, it is no better than reciting 10 Hail Mary’s and getting away free. The weird thing is I ask for forgiveness so that God will reopen the doors and so I can start being relational with Him again. I overlook that my forgiveness is relational. When I fall short, when I give in to all sorts of things that are blatantly contradictory to God’s way of life, I should seek relational forgiveness, but I don’t and this is a problem. It’s as if I am a man going to my wife and saying, “Honey, I’ve been cheating on you with multiple different women. Please forgive me.” Now I am confident that Jesus forgives me, so normally I walk away at this point feeling forgiven and moving on. Of course I should move on, of course I should be confident in my forgiveness, but if I said a statement like this to my wife then I would know, even if she did forgive me, that she would be horribly pained and hurt. Tears would be streaming from her face. Even if she loved me more than anything, even if she had forgiven me right away, she would be hurting. When I sin I feel like I need to go through the technicalities to get it expunged from my record, I disregard the tears streaming from the eyes of God.
God is big—really, really big. So it is a valid question to wonder if a God that could create this world could really be interested in your everyday actions. Again, I believe God is relational, but I do believe He is God. He does not hurt the same way you and I understand hurt. He sees the big picture. He knows if you walk away from Him for the 40th time that you are getting nearer to the 53rd time which will be the last time. God is complex, bigger than you and I. I believe He cares about the way I live my life simply because I believe that He one day wants me to enjoy perfect holiness. I believe He cares how I live my life because it directly affects the lives of His other children. If God is as relational as I think He is, then when I make a commitment to Him, then break the commitment—it hurts Him. I need to approach God as I am approaching the amazing and wondrous Creator of the Universe, but also as I am approaching my spouse, the One who loves me more deeply than anyone I have ever known. This is sort of a complicated thing to do.
“Lord, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for cheating on you. I’m sorry for looking for love when it’s right in front of me. I’m sorry for not understanding your grace, and for the hardening my heart to your magnificent Spirit. Jesus, you died for me, you went to the ends of the earth and suffered great pain to prove your love for me, forgive me for not responding to this love. I’m sorry for being ungrateful—if I took the time to realize all that you have done for me then I wouldn’t stray so often. Thank you, Lord. Thank you for the change, the good work that you have begun in me. Thank you for the promise of finishing this good work—for the promise that sin will one day be done away with. Thank you for the joy you bring me today, and for the joy that you promise to bring in the days to come. Thank you for love. Teach me how to love you and those around me, that I may be changed. Changed—not to impress anyone or to earn anything, but simply so that I may live in this crazy love you have for me and share it with all these hurting people around me. Thank you for smiles, laughter, and beauty. Thank you for life and for being my God.”
Monday, March 15, 2010
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Things Taste Better When They’re Free
3-13-2010
I figured out the secret to happiness. It turns out it’s a tomato and cheese Panini with spicy ranch sauce. Pretty much you take a baguette, butter it up, then stick it face down on the griddle and smush it with a pan loaded with heavy canned foods. When it’s all brown and delicious, take it off load it up with cheese, thinly sliced tomatoes, and crushed red pepper. Stick back on the griddle, smush it again, flip, listen to the sizzle and then serve with a mixture of ranch and Tapatio hot sauce. My goodness—it is proof that life is worth living. I love food.
Today I met the girls at a café. It was a new one that I hadn’t been to before, but I loved it. It’s a small, cozy place. We relaxed and ordered cappuccinos and I had a tomato and cheese omelet while the girls enjoyed a shared plate of fish. There was a man sitting next to us and seemed to be rather intrigued that we were speaking English. Pretty soon he approached us and asked us where we were from. We made conversation for awhile and he ended up telling us that he owned the café. He told us all about his entrepreneurial adventures, gave us his business card, and offered us desert—on the house! When he offered us desert I figured he was doing his typical customer service marketing strategy (which I’m sure he was) and I was expecting maybe a brownie or a little slice of cheesecake for us all to share, but to my surprise a huge platter filled with ice cream, tiramisu, brownies, and cheesecake came out to our table. And if that were not enough he offered us more delicious mochas, caramel lattes, and I got an iced coffee. All of this tasted so good because it was all free. So that alone was enough to make my day. You never know who you’re going to meet and what is going to happen next; that is why I love life. (If you’re ever in Almaty, be sure to check out John’s café!) Today I was reminded that God not only gives me what I need, but He takes great joy in giving me some stuff that I simply want. God doesn’t just provide dinner, but He also loves to provide a giant platter of desert!
Lately I have really been into stories. My mind has been occupied much by my wild imagination. I long for deep adventure that will take me to far-off lands and rescue pretty girls. Ever since I was a child, I have had a wicked imagination and reading books like the Chronicles of Narnia surely makes matters worse. So this past week or so I have been sort of down because of the fact that I cannot have adventures like the ones that happen in classic literature books and epic movies. Then I realized that I am living in Kazakhstan! Every time I got outside I am catapulted into an adventure. Most people get too busy living. It kind of freaks me out because I worry that I’ll get like that when I’m older. I don’t want to get so caught up in day-to-day life that I miss out on the adventures that wait for me. Coming here, having my own apartment, doing my own laundry, cooking my own meals, doing my own grocery shopping, cleaning my own toilets—it has all made me realize what a pain in the butt life is. Just to live takes up so much time; I’m not even talking about making money to buy the groceries! Anyways, it’s a disturbing thought.
Anyways, I have decided to try and be more open to the adventure that lies before me and not sulk in the fact that I am living in a world that is captured by satellite imagery and the old tales of exploring have faded away. I am always cautious about wishing for a great story, because I know that great stories involve great pain. Happy endings, involve a lot of previous unhappiness in order to make them happy. This world is so big, filled with people, filled with culture, and filled with people that need help, that need to smile. I want to make people smile.
I figured out the secret to happiness. It turns out it’s a tomato and cheese Panini with spicy ranch sauce. Pretty much you take a baguette, butter it up, then stick it face down on the griddle and smush it with a pan loaded with heavy canned foods. When it’s all brown and delicious, take it off load it up with cheese, thinly sliced tomatoes, and crushed red pepper. Stick back on the griddle, smush it again, flip, listen to the sizzle and then serve with a mixture of ranch and Tapatio hot sauce. My goodness—it is proof that life is worth living. I love food.
Today I met the girls at a café. It was a new one that I hadn’t been to before, but I loved it. It’s a small, cozy place. We relaxed and ordered cappuccinos and I had a tomato and cheese omelet while the girls enjoyed a shared plate of fish. There was a man sitting next to us and seemed to be rather intrigued that we were speaking English. Pretty soon he approached us and asked us where we were from. We made conversation for awhile and he ended up telling us that he owned the café. He told us all about his entrepreneurial adventures, gave us his business card, and offered us desert—on the house! When he offered us desert I figured he was doing his typical customer service marketing strategy (which I’m sure he was) and I was expecting maybe a brownie or a little slice of cheesecake for us all to share, but to my surprise a huge platter filled with ice cream, tiramisu, brownies, and cheesecake came out to our table. And if that were not enough he offered us more delicious mochas, caramel lattes, and I got an iced coffee. All of this tasted so good because it was all free. So that alone was enough to make my day. You never know who you’re going to meet and what is going to happen next; that is why I love life. (If you’re ever in Almaty, be sure to check out John’s café!) Today I was reminded that God not only gives me what I need, but He takes great joy in giving me some stuff that I simply want. God doesn’t just provide dinner, but He also loves to provide a giant platter of desert!
Lately I have really been into stories. My mind has been occupied much by my wild imagination. I long for deep adventure that will take me to far-off lands and rescue pretty girls. Ever since I was a child, I have had a wicked imagination and reading books like the Chronicles of Narnia surely makes matters worse. So this past week or so I have been sort of down because of the fact that I cannot have adventures like the ones that happen in classic literature books and epic movies. Then I realized that I am living in Kazakhstan! Every time I got outside I am catapulted into an adventure. Most people get too busy living. It kind of freaks me out because I worry that I’ll get like that when I’m older. I don’t want to get so caught up in day-to-day life that I miss out on the adventures that wait for me. Coming here, having my own apartment, doing my own laundry, cooking my own meals, doing my own grocery shopping, cleaning my own toilets—it has all made me realize what a pain in the butt life is. Just to live takes up so much time; I’m not even talking about making money to buy the groceries! Anyways, it’s a disturbing thought.
Anyways, I have decided to try and be more open to the adventure that lies before me and not sulk in the fact that I am living in a world that is captured by satellite imagery and the old tales of exploring have faded away. I am always cautious about wishing for a great story, because I know that great stories involve great pain. Happy endings, involve a lot of previous unhappiness in order to make them happy. This world is so big, filled with people, filled with culture, and filled with people that need help, that need to smile. I want to make people smile.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
The Wind in My Sails
3-11-2010
I used to be very adamant about blogging regularly, but the past couple weeks I have been getting out of my groove. Today is Thursday and I have concluded another full four-day week of teaching. It is always hard getting back into the swing of things after exam week. Monday and Tuesday I was going over tests, telling people they needed to do better if they wanted to move up with the rest of the class, and eluding the normal curriculum because not everyone had new books; including me. Wednesday and today, however, I felt like a real teacher, hitting the subject matter with full force and pushing my students. Yesterday I had to interview like 5 people when I had a class to attend to. It was a bit annoying, but it wasn’t too big of a deal. All of them tested very high, but I felt bad because I placed all of them very low. There is a big difference between someone’s knowledge of the language and their speaking ability. You can listen to many Americans speak well enough to communicate, but if you see them write anything you will know they do not have very good knowledge of their mother tongue. The opposite is also true. I have seen people teach English, and teach it well, while not being able to have a full conversation with me. Language is a very mysterious thing that drives all of life. I love it.
Out of all the people I interviewed, there was only one man that I put in my class. I told him he could try out Level 2, so he joined us later that night. My level 2 is a very good group that I trust to work hard and so I push them hard. After sitting through my class, and listening to my assignments the man had a troubled look in his eyes. I took him aside after class and asked him what he thought. “I think this will be too difficult for me,” he said politely. I reassured him that it was ok and that there is no shame in going to Level 1 before Level 2. I realized that this week I had been pushing my students very hard. I have no problem telling them things like they are. I tell each of my students that I am their teacher and that means by the end of my classes they should be communicating like a native speaker. I tell them that they paid for these classes and it is my job to teach them English—therefore they will learn English. I have high expectations, but I am by no means unmerciful. I was thinking about this today and where this aspect of my personality comes from, but it didn’t take long to realize I am so much like my father.
It’s scary really. You hear all the young people saying that they are nothing like their parents as they try to shape their own identities and you hear all the middle-aged people talking about how much they are like their parents while they wrestle with life’s real demands. Personally, I think it would be an honor to be like my parents. I can’t think of two better role models. I got lucky. In my last blog I wrote about women and I told you how much I love my Mom, but in this blog I want to tell you about how much I love my Dad, because it was his birthday on Tuesday. My Dad is a funny man. He has a mysterious aspect of his personality that will always keep you guessing, but a kind heart that glows through any circumstance. He’s a bit compulsive, chaotically organized, but driven and a true intellectual. Although he would like to blame the chaotic part of his organization on his children and his wife (which may be partially true) I know his style better than he thinks. I know this because while coming to Kazakhstan I have taken another slice of my independence and I have gotten to see a bigger chunk of who I really am, or rather who I am becoming. I am a guy who thrives on organization, but it is a type of organization that may not look entirely orderly to other people. I am a guy who likes to wake up to a clean kitchen; something I used to think was so odd about my father. I am a guy who likes to complain. Basically, I am a guy who has taken after my father, but not to worry; it hasn’t turned out to be such a bad thing after all. I recently read a Narnia book about a sailing adventure at sea. I have been thinking of my life as a fanciful ship gliding across ever-changing waters of a vast ocean. My Parents have played a big part on this ship. I see my Mother as my anchor, firmly supporting me and always holding me where I need to be; my comfort, my peace. My Father is the mast—supporting my sails and guiding me to different routes. He has always been my inspiration to steer into the dangerous and uncharted parts of the sea; my inspiration to meet adventure head on. Of course, both my parents play both of these roles quite well and they both play the fountain of love that nourishes my soul and enriches my journey. So the point is—I’m lucky and extremely thankful to have the wonderful parents I have. Happy Birthday, Dad!
I used to be very adamant about blogging regularly, but the past couple weeks I have been getting out of my groove. Today is Thursday and I have concluded another full four-day week of teaching. It is always hard getting back into the swing of things after exam week. Monday and Tuesday I was going over tests, telling people they needed to do better if they wanted to move up with the rest of the class, and eluding the normal curriculum because not everyone had new books; including me. Wednesday and today, however, I felt like a real teacher, hitting the subject matter with full force and pushing my students. Yesterday I had to interview like 5 people when I had a class to attend to. It was a bit annoying, but it wasn’t too big of a deal. All of them tested very high, but I felt bad because I placed all of them very low. There is a big difference between someone’s knowledge of the language and their speaking ability. You can listen to many Americans speak well enough to communicate, but if you see them write anything you will know they do not have very good knowledge of their mother tongue. The opposite is also true. I have seen people teach English, and teach it well, while not being able to have a full conversation with me. Language is a very mysterious thing that drives all of life. I love it.
Out of all the people I interviewed, there was only one man that I put in my class. I told him he could try out Level 2, so he joined us later that night. My level 2 is a very good group that I trust to work hard and so I push them hard. After sitting through my class, and listening to my assignments the man had a troubled look in his eyes. I took him aside after class and asked him what he thought. “I think this will be too difficult for me,” he said politely. I reassured him that it was ok and that there is no shame in going to Level 1 before Level 2. I realized that this week I had been pushing my students very hard. I have no problem telling them things like they are. I tell each of my students that I am their teacher and that means by the end of my classes they should be communicating like a native speaker. I tell them that they paid for these classes and it is my job to teach them English—therefore they will learn English. I have high expectations, but I am by no means unmerciful. I was thinking about this today and where this aspect of my personality comes from, but it didn’t take long to realize I am so much like my father.
It’s scary really. You hear all the young people saying that they are nothing like their parents as they try to shape their own identities and you hear all the middle-aged people talking about how much they are like their parents while they wrestle with life’s real demands. Personally, I think it would be an honor to be like my parents. I can’t think of two better role models. I got lucky. In my last blog I wrote about women and I told you how much I love my Mom, but in this blog I want to tell you about how much I love my Dad, because it was his birthday on Tuesday. My Dad is a funny man. He has a mysterious aspect of his personality that will always keep you guessing, but a kind heart that glows through any circumstance. He’s a bit compulsive, chaotically organized, but driven and a true intellectual. Although he would like to blame the chaotic part of his organization on his children and his wife (which may be partially true) I know his style better than he thinks. I know this because while coming to Kazakhstan I have taken another slice of my independence and I have gotten to see a bigger chunk of who I really am, or rather who I am becoming. I am a guy who thrives on organization, but it is a type of organization that may not look entirely orderly to other people. I am a guy who likes to wake up to a clean kitchen; something I used to think was so odd about my father. I am a guy who likes to complain. Basically, I am a guy who has taken after my father, but not to worry; it hasn’t turned out to be such a bad thing after all. I recently read a Narnia book about a sailing adventure at sea. I have been thinking of my life as a fanciful ship gliding across ever-changing waters of a vast ocean. My Parents have played a big part on this ship. I see my Mother as my anchor, firmly supporting me and always holding me where I need to be; my comfort, my peace. My Father is the mast—supporting my sails and guiding me to different routes. He has always been my inspiration to steer into the dangerous and uncharted parts of the sea; my inspiration to meet adventure head on. Of course, both my parents play both of these roles quite well and they both play the fountain of love that nourishes my soul and enriches my journey. So the point is—I’m lucky and extremely thankful to have the wonderful parents I have. Happy Birthday, Dad!
Monday, March 8, 2010
God's Greatest Gift to Humanity
3-8-2010
I weaved in and out of the crowded streets, looking at my naked wrist out of habit, but only being reminded of the fact that I forgot my watch. Large bundles of heart-shaped balloons floated in the air making everyone feel a sense of sappiness. Today I came within 5 feet of a camel, a horse-drawn carriage, and a Kazakh bride. What is the cause of all this excitement? There can only be one answer—Women’s Day! Most of the country gets the day off to spend time admiring the special women in their life. I, however, am not most of the country. Our English center is more persistent than the U.S. Postal Service. It doesn’t matter if it’s raining, sleeting, snowing, a national holiday—our classes meet! I was hoping (and praying) that nobody would show up and that I would get to go home early, but to my surprise almost every student that was supposed to be there was there. It was a hard day because my former level 4 is now level 5 and I didn’t have a level 5 book so instead of going through the exercises I had to turn it into discussion. The same happened with my former level 1 who has just become a level 2. We ended up talking about American and Kazakhstan economy, cars, and college education. I like my students and regardless of the fact that I never look forward to going to work, and even sometimes want to jump out the window while I am there, I somehow like being a teacher. Go figure? I don’t get it either.
In discussion today the logical thing to talk about was women so that’s precisely what I talked about. I had two ladies and one man and I posed the question, “What would the world be like without women?” Once Captain Obvious cleared up the fact that no births would be take place, and the absence of birth would mean the absence of life, then Captain Imagination was allowed to put in his two cents. Unfortunately my students don’t seem to have a great imagination, but I was able to pry a few answers out of them. They came up with answers like, “There would be more war and fighting” and “Dirty.” My question got me thinking and I arrived at the simple answer of “Ugly.” Women add beauty to this world, and I don’t just mean in their physical appearance. Women brighten up everything. They put flowers in vases and curtains on windows. They add spices to food, paint walls, take the time to wear nice clothes, and smell good. I am completely in awe of women. Without them I think we’d have some cool houses, but inside the living room would be dull, probably solid white or beige walls, with maybe some blankets nailed to the windows and a TV sitting on a moving box. Most likely, it would be a mess—not only because most men are lazy—but because we don’t pay as close attention to detail. I can’t imagine what Adam went through for that period of time when he was naming the animals and had no female companionship. I love how God made him wait—how God pretty much made Adam feel loneliness before sin ever existed. I think God did that because he wanted Adam to realize his great need for a woman. Not only need, but I think God wanted Adam to get all these pent up boyish feelings so that when Eve finally arrived he would be enthralled and entangled in his wild feelings for her. So that when this bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh took her first steps in front of him he would realize what he had. He would realize what he had and do everything in his power to protect her and love her and shower her with the kind of selfless passion that his Creator showered on him. It’s sad that today, in every part of the world, women are unappreciated, unprotected, unfulfilled, and unloved. I myself have taken women for granted one too many times. But, today I realized how much I appreciate, rely on, and utterly love women. (Please, don’t take that the wrong way!)
I have always hung around a lot of women. In high school many of my friends were girls and ever since birth I have unashamedly been nothing short of a "Mama’s Boy". I am convinced that I have the greatest mother to ever exist. I am so lucky that God put me in the hands of a woman who understands love and dispenses it so freely. I am thankful for her love, her friendship, her guidance, and wisdom. Her care and support is what has fueled my passions for life, God, and love. Along with her is an entire team of women set up by God to contribute to the beauty of my life. I could go on about my precious grandmothers, my fun-loving aunts, my compassionate cousins, and my best friends. While some good guy love and man talks are necessary, I am convinced that women are God’s greatest gift to humanity. Their complexity, horrid mood fluctuation, unreachable expectations, untamable emotions and perplexing communication tactics are high prices to pay, but like anything in life—high quality demands a high cost. However, it is the bewildering things about women that make them special; that make them women, and like I said—this is God’s greatest gift to humanity--aside from Jesus, of course!
I weaved in and out of the crowded streets, looking at my naked wrist out of habit, but only being reminded of the fact that I forgot my watch. Large bundles of heart-shaped balloons floated in the air making everyone feel a sense of sappiness. Today I came within 5 feet of a camel, a horse-drawn carriage, and a Kazakh bride. What is the cause of all this excitement? There can only be one answer—Women’s Day! Most of the country gets the day off to spend time admiring the special women in their life. I, however, am not most of the country. Our English center is more persistent than the U.S. Postal Service. It doesn’t matter if it’s raining, sleeting, snowing, a national holiday—our classes meet! I was hoping (and praying) that nobody would show up and that I would get to go home early, but to my surprise almost every student that was supposed to be there was there. It was a hard day because my former level 4 is now level 5 and I didn’t have a level 5 book so instead of going through the exercises I had to turn it into discussion. The same happened with my former level 1 who has just become a level 2. We ended up talking about American and Kazakhstan economy, cars, and college education. I like my students and regardless of the fact that I never look forward to going to work, and even sometimes want to jump out the window while I am there, I somehow like being a teacher. Go figure? I don’t get it either.
In discussion today the logical thing to talk about was women so that’s precisely what I talked about. I had two ladies and one man and I posed the question, “What would the world be like without women?” Once Captain Obvious cleared up the fact that no births would be take place, and the absence of birth would mean the absence of life, then Captain Imagination was allowed to put in his two cents. Unfortunately my students don’t seem to have a great imagination, but I was able to pry a few answers out of them. They came up with answers like, “There would be more war and fighting” and “Dirty.” My question got me thinking and I arrived at the simple answer of “Ugly.” Women add beauty to this world, and I don’t just mean in their physical appearance. Women brighten up everything. They put flowers in vases and curtains on windows. They add spices to food, paint walls, take the time to wear nice clothes, and smell good. I am completely in awe of women. Without them I think we’d have some cool houses, but inside the living room would be dull, probably solid white or beige walls, with maybe some blankets nailed to the windows and a TV sitting on a moving box. Most likely, it would be a mess—not only because most men are lazy—but because we don’t pay as close attention to detail. I can’t imagine what Adam went through for that period of time when he was naming the animals and had no female companionship. I love how God made him wait—how God pretty much made Adam feel loneliness before sin ever existed. I think God did that because he wanted Adam to realize his great need for a woman. Not only need, but I think God wanted Adam to get all these pent up boyish feelings so that when Eve finally arrived he would be enthralled and entangled in his wild feelings for her. So that when this bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh took her first steps in front of him he would realize what he had. He would realize what he had and do everything in his power to protect her and love her and shower her with the kind of selfless passion that his Creator showered on him. It’s sad that today, in every part of the world, women are unappreciated, unprotected, unfulfilled, and unloved. I myself have taken women for granted one too many times. But, today I realized how much I appreciate, rely on, and utterly love women. (Please, don’t take that the wrong way!)
I have always hung around a lot of women. In high school many of my friends were girls and ever since birth I have unashamedly been nothing short of a "Mama’s Boy". I am convinced that I have the greatest mother to ever exist. I am so lucky that God put me in the hands of a woman who understands love and dispenses it so freely. I am thankful for her love, her friendship, her guidance, and wisdom. Her care and support is what has fueled my passions for life, God, and love. Along with her is an entire team of women set up by God to contribute to the beauty of my life. I could go on about my precious grandmothers, my fun-loving aunts, my compassionate cousins, and my best friends. While some good guy love and man talks are necessary, I am convinced that women are God’s greatest gift to humanity. Their complexity, horrid mood fluctuation, unreachable expectations, untamable emotions and perplexing communication tactics are high prices to pay, but like anything in life—high quality demands a high cost. However, it is the bewildering things about women that make them special; that make them women, and like I said—this is God’s greatest gift to humanity--aside from Jesus, of course!
Friday, March 5, 2010
Confused Precipitation
3-05-2010
These cornflakes that lie on my spoon as I type this are delicious. I just came to the realization that all I’ve eaten today is an amazing green salad, some bread, a heavenly cappuccino, and these cornflakes. I was planning on waking up at 9:30am this morning. I finally rolled out of bed at 10:30am. We agreed to meet the girls for lunch at 11 and then go meet some of my students at 1 to go to an art museum. Waking up at 10:30am was a problem, because it would take at least 30 minutes to walk to the café. So the story goes something like this: The girls were going to be late and so we decided to meet at 11:30am. I left the apartment at about 11:20. Problem. Steven doesn’t like cafés so he decided to stay back and do some shopping at the bazaar. I told him that he could have the cell phone, but he insisted that I take it because he obviously has the gift of foresight. I walked to this café before and navigated through the city with mastery after staring at Google maps for about 5 minutes. Today however, my mastery slumped. I was walking and enjoying my walk quite a bit. There is something about walking through a foreign city by yourself. It makes you feel as though you are in a real story, on a real adventure. I guess as I was off in my own daydreams plodding along the sidewalks I walked past the street I was looking for. After awhile of not seeing this street I started going up a random street thinking that I would find the other street I was looking for and get a grip of where I was. So I walked, and walked, and nothing looked familiar until I came to a giant building and this nightclub. One of the previous SMs who has since stuck around, lives in that nice building and I recognized the nightclub. I also recognized the fact that I was nowhere close to where I had wanted to be. So I called Emily, admitting my failure and looking for help. Of course, Murphy ’s Law set in and my phone ran out of money. Luckily, Emily called me back and took to the streets trying to find me. I finally asked one of the local women which direction Furminova (the street I was looking for) was, but she just “hrmphed” and me and said “niet” (no). I was annoyed with her and kept walking. Emily couldn’t find me. I was lost. I asked another local—a younger jollier looking girl—and she kindly explained where I was and pointed in a direction with a look of uncertainty on her face. I figured her uncertainty was better than my oblivion and I trekked the direction she said. Anyways, after walking a ways back I realized that I was still lost and I started to get angry at the girl for pointing me in the wrong direction until I realized that I was on Furminova. Then, Emily called and I was still lost. She said I was supposed to be on certain crossroads and on these crossroads I was—but the café and familiarity were both out of sight. I finally realized that the café was a block below me, Emily found me (thanks Emily!), and after a long day on the streets, I arrived at the café. The only problem now was that it was 1:00pm and I knew my students and Steven would be waiting for me. Another problem was that I didn’t have anyone’s number so there was no way to explain what just happened. I sat in the café feeling helpless—like there was nothing I could do. After sitting for about 20 minutes groaning from my helplessness and from the tiredness of exploring what seemed to be the entire city—I finally got a call. They of course wondered where I was at and I had to explain. To shorten the story I will say that I ended up getting frustrated, feeling tired and hungry, and just told them to go without me. I went back in the café, ordered my salad and my cappuccino and my world started to look a little brighter.
I had to hop on a bus, go back to my apartment to grab some stuff and meet Yelena (she forgot we were meeting), and then run back to NewBridge for Friday club. It started snowing on me as I walked hurriedly to NewBridge. The snow, however, was wet and I couldn’t tell if it was rain or snow. It was what I deemed—confused precipitation. I couldn’t help but marvel at the fact that the weather couldn’t make up its mind. It was like looking in a mirror. I’m at a point in my life where I am constantly changing my mind—I’m confused. Sometimes I am determined to snow while other times I feel like raining, what results is slush—and nobody likes slush.
I’m not going to lie; I sort of enjoyed getting lost. I cherished the adventure and now I know my way around the city much better and have all sorts of new sights logged in the memory chambers of my brain. The only problem was that it wasted so much time that I did not have to spare. I wonder why it is that man is programmed for adventure. I wonder why God put in us the desires to crawl into deep, dark holes and dive to the deepest parts of the ocean and fly to the highest heights of the sky. I don’t exactly know why God made me this way, but I sure do like it. I like adventure. I like reading about adventures and I like living adventures. I think heaven will be full of adventures, much cooler than walking the polluted sidewalks of some foreign city. I think that I might get lost a couple times in the New Earth, but I’ll always have someone to call and come looking for me. And I bet after getting lost I’ll be able to sit down and have a cappuccino as I write about my adventures. It’ll be a blast!
These cornflakes that lie on my spoon as I type this are delicious. I just came to the realization that all I’ve eaten today is an amazing green salad, some bread, a heavenly cappuccino, and these cornflakes. I was planning on waking up at 9:30am this morning. I finally rolled out of bed at 10:30am. We agreed to meet the girls for lunch at 11 and then go meet some of my students at 1 to go to an art museum. Waking up at 10:30am was a problem, because it would take at least 30 minutes to walk to the café. So the story goes something like this: The girls were going to be late and so we decided to meet at 11:30am. I left the apartment at about 11:20. Problem. Steven doesn’t like cafés so he decided to stay back and do some shopping at the bazaar. I told him that he could have the cell phone, but he insisted that I take it because he obviously has the gift of foresight. I walked to this café before and navigated through the city with mastery after staring at Google maps for about 5 minutes. Today however, my mastery slumped. I was walking and enjoying my walk quite a bit. There is something about walking through a foreign city by yourself. It makes you feel as though you are in a real story, on a real adventure. I guess as I was off in my own daydreams plodding along the sidewalks I walked past the street I was looking for. After awhile of not seeing this street I started going up a random street thinking that I would find the other street I was looking for and get a grip of where I was. So I walked, and walked, and nothing looked familiar until I came to a giant building and this nightclub. One of the previous SMs who has since stuck around, lives in that nice building and I recognized the nightclub. I also recognized the fact that I was nowhere close to where I had wanted to be. So I called Emily, admitting my failure and looking for help. Of course, Murphy ’s Law set in and my phone ran out of money. Luckily, Emily called me back and took to the streets trying to find me. I finally asked one of the local women which direction Furminova (the street I was looking for) was, but she just “hrmphed” and me and said “niet” (no). I was annoyed with her and kept walking. Emily couldn’t find me. I was lost. I asked another local—a younger jollier looking girl—and she kindly explained where I was and pointed in a direction with a look of uncertainty on her face. I figured her uncertainty was better than my oblivion and I trekked the direction she said. Anyways, after walking a ways back I realized that I was still lost and I started to get angry at the girl for pointing me in the wrong direction until I realized that I was on Furminova. Then, Emily called and I was still lost. She said I was supposed to be on certain crossroads and on these crossroads I was—but the café and familiarity were both out of sight. I finally realized that the café was a block below me, Emily found me (thanks Emily!), and after a long day on the streets, I arrived at the café. The only problem now was that it was 1:00pm and I knew my students and Steven would be waiting for me. Another problem was that I didn’t have anyone’s number so there was no way to explain what just happened. I sat in the café feeling helpless—like there was nothing I could do. After sitting for about 20 minutes groaning from my helplessness and from the tiredness of exploring what seemed to be the entire city—I finally got a call. They of course wondered where I was at and I had to explain. To shorten the story I will say that I ended up getting frustrated, feeling tired and hungry, and just told them to go without me. I went back in the café, ordered my salad and my cappuccino and my world started to look a little brighter.
I had to hop on a bus, go back to my apartment to grab some stuff and meet Yelena (she forgot we were meeting), and then run back to NewBridge for Friday club. It started snowing on me as I walked hurriedly to NewBridge. The snow, however, was wet and I couldn’t tell if it was rain or snow. It was what I deemed—confused precipitation. I couldn’t help but marvel at the fact that the weather couldn’t make up its mind. It was like looking in a mirror. I’m at a point in my life where I am constantly changing my mind—I’m confused. Sometimes I am determined to snow while other times I feel like raining, what results is slush—and nobody likes slush.
I’m not going to lie; I sort of enjoyed getting lost. I cherished the adventure and now I know my way around the city much better and have all sorts of new sights logged in the memory chambers of my brain. The only problem was that it wasted so much time that I did not have to spare. I wonder why it is that man is programmed for adventure. I wonder why God put in us the desires to crawl into deep, dark holes and dive to the deepest parts of the ocean and fly to the highest heights of the sky. I don’t exactly know why God made me this way, but I sure do like it. I like adventure. I like reading about adventures and I like living adventures. I think heaven will be full of adventures, much cooler than walking the polluted sidewalks of some foreign city. I think that I might get lost a couple times in the New Earth, but I’ll always have someone to call and come looking for me. And I bet after getting lost I’ll be able to sit down and have a cappuccino as I write about my adventures. It’ll be a blast!
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
So Many Shoes, So Little Time
3-3-2010
Wednesday. I actually had to work today. Rather hard, but it all seems like it went by so fast. I got up early and cooked and cleaned like the good wife I am. We had the girls over so that was the reason for my early awakening. I made some stir-fry again. It turned out pretty good. Once they left, I started making my exams. Granted I had prepared a review sheet for my students so I knew exactly what I was going to put on the test, but making the test took time. Too much time in fact. I miscalculated and had to stay behind while Steven went for discussion. He had to do that yesterday too. I finally finished around 5 and had to run to the center to make my 5:30 class. Of course, the printer wasn’t working well so I ended up being like 10 minutes late to my class. I told them it was a good thing because they had extra time to study for their exams. Aren’t I such a nice guy?
I realized while I was making these tests that I don’t think about the fact that my students are students. I realize that sounds dumb, but let me explain. I’m student—at least technically. I am taking a semester off to serve here—we all know this by now. But, you know when you are in college and you get angry at your professors. You have thoughts like, “Doesn’t he realize I have a life outside of his class!” or “Doesn’t she remember when she was a student!” I remember having thoughts like this because these thoughts were in my head less than3 months ago. So I realized that even though I am only a few months out of being a student, I have stopped thinking like a student and have taken on the teacher role. I assign homework without putting myself in my students shoes and I give them 6 page final exams like it’s no big deal. After all, the English test is easy for me—a native speaker. So I realize that I need to not be so tough on my professors back at school. Of course they’ve forgotten what it means to be a student! I’ve forgotten after 3 months, those thoughts must be long gone in their minds!
Of course, I realize that I don’t just fail at this in my classroom, but also in the great classroom of life. If we all took the time to put ourselves in other people’s shoes, to feel other people’s feelings, to take a few steps in their life, this world would be a much better place. If we put down our own agendas, stopped worrying about our own reputations, and started to really empathize with those around us could you imagine the impact that it would have on this world? I’m pretty sure the earth would just go ahead and start spinning the other direction. There would be a lot less pain and a lot more smiles. Like I said, I’m terrible at this, but like everyone else, I want to see everyone else do something. This concept reminds me of the Golden Rule and somebody’s life. I think His name was Jesus.
Wednesday. I actually had to work today. Rather hard, but it all seems like it went by so fast. I got up early and cooked and cleaned like the good wife I am. We had the girls over so that was the reason for my early awakening. I made some stir-fry again. It turned out pretty good. Once they left, I started making my exams. Granted I had prepared a review sheet for my students so I knew exactly what I was going to put on the test, but making the test took time. Too much time in fact. I miscalculated and had to stay behind while Steven went for discussion. He had to do that yesterday too. I finally finished around 5 and had to run to the center to make my 5:30 class. Of course, the printer wasn’t working well so I ended up being like 10 minutes late to my class. I told them it was a good thing because they had extra time to study for their exams. Aren’t I such a nice guy?
I realized while I was making these tests that I don’t think about the fact that my students are students. I realize that sounds dumb, but let me explain. I’m student—at least technically. I am taking a semester off to serve here—we all know this by now. But, you know when you are in college and you get angry at your professors. You have thoughts like, “Doesn’t he realize I have a life outside of his class!” or “Doesn’t she remember when she was a student!” I remember having thoughts like this because these thoughts were in my head less than3 months ago. So I realized that even though I am only a few months out of being a student, I have stopped thinking like a student and have taken on the teacher role. I assign homework without putting myself in my students shoes and I give them 6 page final exams like it’s no big deal. After all, the English test is easy for me—a native speaker. So I realize that I need to not be so tough on my professors back at school. Of course they’ve forgotten what it means to be a student! I’ve forgotten after 3 months, those thoughts must be long gone in their minds!
Of course, I realize that I don’t just fail at this in my classroom, but also in the great classroom of life. If we all took the time to put ourselves in other people’s shoes, to feel other people’s feelings, to take a few steps in their life, this world would be a much better place. If we put down our own agendas, stopped worrying about our own reputations, and started to really empathize with those around us could you imagine the impact that it would have on this world? I’m pretty sure the earth would just go ahead and start spinning the other direction. There would be a lot less pain and a lot more smiles. Like I said, I’m terrible at this, but like everyone else, I want to see everyone else do something. This concept reminds me of the Golden Rule and somebody’s life. I think His name was Jesus.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Gasping from Inversions
3-01-2010
The last bits of snow couldn’t hold on to their frost any longer—Almaty has become a giant mud puddle. Today is the first of March; according to the Kazakhs, it is the first day of spring. That means that winter has come to a close and the weather is all higher temperatures from here. Higher temperatures are both a good thing and a bad thing. Good in the sense that we will see the sun more often, there won’t be as much pollution in the air, and we won’t have to spend time bundling every part of our body before exiting buildings. Bad in the sense that the streets are uncovered, the trash is everywhere, the mud is on the bottom of my shoes, and everyone on the bus is beginning to sweat—including the babushkas! So time passes and I trade some grievances for some different grievances and life moves on.
Today I watched some episodes of House, did some reading and personal study, as well as prepared review sheets for upcoming examinations that will be happening later this week. I have to keep my babies heads’ above water and make sure that all of them move on to the next level. There are a couple of them that I’m worried about, but we’ll see how this week plays out. I’m starting to bond with my students—it’s nice. I made some plans to hang out with them over the weekend. It should be fun.
I mentioned earlier that the warm weather will mean less pollution in the city. This is because of a little weather anomaly called “Inversion.” Inversion is some crazy thing that my Atmospheric-Scientist-cousin told me was happening. After a bit of research I realized that what he said was very true. You see—Almaty is in a little basin surrounded by giant mountain peaks. It is also an incredibly large, overcrowded city that believes in using SUVs and factories that pour thick, dark grey smoke from their stacks—not to mention all the coal burning that happens in certain parts of the city to keep people warm. All of this pollution goes up into the air and is trapped by a blanket of warmer air that acts as a lid. The cold air—the air mixed with all the junk—is trapped in the little basin that we call a city. (For more about inversions check this out: http://www.wrh.noaa.gov/slc/climate/TemperatureInversions.php) As I was pondering this thought I couldn’t help but make a spiritual parallel. I thought about my life and how I long to let pure love live within me. I long for righteousness and godly character, but I’m living with inversion. Jesus wants us to breathe fresh air—physically and spiritually. When man decided to invite sin here, the world got cold and we became surrounded by jagged mountain peaks, our nature became sinful. We don’t usually mean to invite sin into our lives, we just do. We think we need to stay warm so we start burning coal in one area of our lives. We need to travel in style so we start driving big SUVs and the exhaust rises from another part of our lives. Pretty soon we are erecting entire factories with thick, black smoke pouring from their chimneys—not because we want the smoke, not because we want evil to lurk, but because we want the profit, the convenience, whatever it is that this factory will give us. Pretty soon we have invited so much garbage into our lives that our air quality sucks and we are living in a pool of pollution. We are suffocating in our own filthiness. This sounds pretty grim and I take pleasure in telling you that Jesus is a great air purifier and will forgive you from your sins and cleanse you from all unrighteousness. But, I also take displeasure in telling you that this smoke is not easy to escape, in fact I’m not sure it’s possible to escape. You can’t run from it, for the cold breeze follows you, even all the way across the globe (believe me I’ve tested it). You can’t fight it for the mountains are much bigger than you. The only thing we can do is to try to stop all this smoke from pouring out of our lives and ignore the chilling cold that sweeps in the absence of fire.
Now I’m not legalistic—far from it. And I certainly don’t advocate licentiousness—far from it. What I do advocate is love and I don’t know about you, but I want to know and taste love in all its glory. The problem us humans have with love is that we get a taste and our selfish desire takes over and perverts love so that it can no longer be recognized as the raw material we began with. The main reason I want to be “good” is so that I stop perverting the miraculous love Jesus keeps pouring on me. I know Jesus forgives, I know He is bigger than my actions of ignorance, I know His grace is strong enough to cover and His love is powerful enough to cleanse, but the smoke continues to pour out of my life and out of everyone I see. I’m not advocating that we give up, for that would be foolish, but I think I’m advocating that we start being collectively radical. I have this theory that if I get too busy loving my neighbor that I will forget to throw coal on the fire and the smoke will stop suffocating me. The beauty of this theory is that I won’t even get cold because the love inside of me will be warming every inch of my soul. Maybe I should give it a try, but it’s only a theory. Putting it into practice would be far too difficult. Any takers?
The last bits of snow couldn’t hold on to their frost any longer—Almaty has become a giant mud puddle. Today is the first of March; according to the Kazakhs, it is the first day of spring. That means that winter has come to a close and the weather is all higher temperatures from here. Higher temperatures are both a good thing and a bad thing. Good in the sense that we will see the sun more often, there won’t be as much pollution in the air, and we won’t have to spend time bundling every part of our body before exiting buildings. Bad in the sense that the streets are uncovered, the trash is everywhere, the mud is on the bottom of my shoes, and everyone on the bus is beginning to sweat—including the babushkas! So time passes and I trade some grievances for some different grievances and life moves on.
Today I watched some episodes of House, did some reading and personal study, as well as prepared review sheets for upcoming examinations that will be happening later this week. I have to keep my babies heads’ above water and make sure that all of them move on to the next level. There are a couple of them that I’m worried about, but we’ll see how this week plays out. I’m starting to bond with my students—it’s nice. I made some plans to hang out with them over the weekend. It should be fun.
I mentioned earlier that the warm weather will mean less pollution in the city. This is because of a little weather anomaly called “Inversion.” Inversion is some crazy thing that my Atmospheric-Scientist-cousin told me was happening. After a bit of research I realized that what he said was very true. You see—Almaty is in a little basin surrounded by giant mountain peaks. It is also an incredibly large, overcrowded city that believes in using SUVs and factories that pour thick, dark grey smoke from their stacks—not to mention all the coal burning that happens in certain parts of the city to keep people warm. All of this pollution goes up into the air and is trapped by a blanket of warmer air that acts as a lid. The cold air—the air mixed with all the junk—is trapped in the little basin that we call a city. (For more about inversions check this out: http://www.wrh.noaa.gov/slc/climate/TemperatureInversions.php) As I was pondering this thought I couldn’t help but make a spiritual parallel. I thought about my life and how I long to let pure love live within me. I long for righteousness and godly character, but I’m living with inversion. Jesus wants us to breathe fresh air—physically and spiritually. When man decided to invite sin here, the world got cold and we became surrounded by jagged mountain peaks, our nature became sinful. We don’t usually mean to invite sin into our lives, we just do. We think we need to stay warm so we start burning coal in one area of our lives. We need to travel in style so we start driving big SUVs and the exhaust rises from another part of our lives. Pretty soon we are erecting entire factories with thick, black smoke pouring from their chimneys—not because we want the smoke, not because we want evil to lurk, but because we want the profit, the convenience, whatever it is that this factory will give us. Pretty soon we have invited so much garbage into our lives that our air quality sucks and we are living in a pool of pollution. We are suffocating in our own filthiness. This sounds pretty grim and I take pleasure in telling you that Jesus is a great air purifier and will forgive you from your sins and cleanse you from all unrighteousness. But, I also take displeasure in telling you that this smoke is not easy to escape, in fact I’m not sure it’s possible to escape. You can’t run from it, for the cold breeze follows you, even all the way across the globe (believe me I’ve tested it). You can’t fight it for the mountains are much bigger than you. The only thing we can do is to try to stop all this smoke from pouring out of our lives and ignore the chilling cold that sweeps in the absence of fire.
Now I’m not legalistic—far from it. And I certainly don’t advocate licentiousness—far from it. What I do advocate is love and I don’t know about you, but I want to know and taste love in all its glory. The problem us humans have with love is that we get a taste and our selfish desire takes over and perverts love so that it can no longer be recognized as the raw material we began with. The main reason I want to be “good” is so that I stop perverting the miraculous love Jesus keeps pouring on me. I know Jesus forgives, I know He is bigger than my actions of ignorance, I know His grace is strong enough to cover and His love is powerful enough to cleanse, but the smoke continues to pour out of my life and out of everyone I see. I’m not advocating that we give up, for that would be foolish, but I think I’m advocating that we start being collectively radical. I have this theory that if I get too busy loving my neighbor that I will forget to throw coal on the fire and the smoke will stop suffocating me. The beauty of this theory is that I won’t even get cold because the love inside of me will be warming every inch of my soul. Maybe I should give it a try, but it’s only a theory. Putting it into practice would be far too difficult. Any takers?
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