Here

I'm here.

Finally.

I know some people spend years, decades, even, praying, hoping to get to the "mission field." For me, however, this is still all so new. Yes, I did come to Germany for the first time 10 years ago, and that's when my path started. Well, it started long before that, but that was the first tangible sign I can point to in my life, as the beginning of my yellow brick road.

But coming here in this context, coming to work in "full-time ministry," well, it's still a bit of a surprise. I've certainly accustomed myself to it, and it feels like I'm home in that sense. Germany isn't home yet (it has only been 2 days!), but when I think of WHY I'm here, that feels like home in my soul.

Yes. This is what I was made for.

I'm sitting in the guest room in my field director's apartment in Köln. I sat here, on the same bed, reading by the same lamp, exactly one year ago. I came then, after being reluctantly and astonishingly (yes, I'm just that stubborn) convinced by the Spirit, to meet these people whom I now will begin to call "teammates," and to try this whole thing on. It took some time to get my hands in, but soon enough, the answer became clear. It fit like a glove.

Then a whirlwind of activity: finishing teaching music in Boston, getting appointed with GEM in Colorado in June, and since then, meeting with hundreds of amazing people to talk about this ministry, singing about it, going through cross-cultural training, praying too seldom, often trusting more in myself than in God.

And yet, here I am.

It's still surreal, and I suppose will remain so for months, perhaps years to come. I'm OK with that. I just hope and pray (please pray with me for this, I need HELP!) that I won't get so busy, as I am wont to do, that I stop to be surprised and astonished. I don't want to take this for granted. I don't want to take God for granted. I want to dig into this, be fully present.

I want to reflect the rest, the peace, the beauty and vulnerability and strength of Jesus. I want those things to be present in me. I don't like constantly rushing around, doing things in my own strength. It becomes boring after a while. So void of creativity, of color, of life.

These words from a wise friend today sum up WELL the most prominent lesson in my life right now:

"There are so many changes to be made, so many details to work out - yet you can hold on to something: you can rest in Jesus. He will provide, sustain, and hold you close. Come to Him with your excitement and your weariness. Take on what he calls you to do and nothing else. You will find rest in Him."

Hoo boy. That's DIFFICULT! But, amen!

One of the first things I think Jesus is calling me to take on, is learning how to wash my face in these TINY bathroom sinks without drenching the entire room! Baby steps. "Schritt für Schritt." :)

Sunny with a high of 53 degrees

What a perfect March day in Boston! This is a great way to spend my last weekend here, with good weather.

I should have written so many times over the past month, but somehow never found my way to it. There is LOTS to say, but that'll have to wait until later. Like, later as in when I'm in Germany. I leave on Monday! That's only 2 full days more in Boston. If I think about it, I'll cry. And I'm not ready to do that yet.

I should totally be asleep by now. I'm exhausted.

What a great idea, going to sleep. Good night!

Stress

I should have seen it coming. In one month I'm moving my entire life overseas, working and praying to have the full funding that GEM requires, and I'm not a detail person. Terrible combination! Gradually, I've become encumbered with fears, doubts, and unanswered questions. I'm cranky more often than normal, and this whole thing is quite tiring.

I guess I just need to choose not to be stressed out. I feel so differently about God when I think in general terms, about the philosophical arguments in both directions that have been given throughout the millenia, about the doubts and dogma that I've acquired in 30 years of life. And then, well, I read Jesus' words. All of a sudden he's real, and he's actually talking to me. And I realize that I'm surprised by this. I'm surprised, caught off guard when Jesus asks me:

"Kristi, who do you say that I am?"

"Um, well, sometimes I think, well, hmmm..."

And then I see him looking at me, at me!, like in the painting I saw at the MFA last year that took my breath away, of Jesus heading to the cross. Such compassion, grace, steadfastness, vulnerability, decisiveness, power, ambition, sacrifice and love, all in one knowing look. And I lower my eyes and my head, and everything is different. I don't know what to say. I'm quiet, my soul is quiet. I know he's still looking at me. I feel his presence.

Interestingly, this does not feel like a momentous occasion. Things are just, different. The landscape of my belief has changed. Within the space of a minute, I reevaluate everything I know, all I believe, how I behave, in light of this renewed faith that Jesus is real. That when he says "follow," it is a very serious matter, and I have a choice to make. I can go reluctantly, or I can go willingly. I can go with my eyes wide open to the potential obstacles and face them head on with an assurance that God is real and in control. Or, I can close my eyes, hold my breath, and just run through the potential fire without really trusting, just hoping against hope that things will turn out alright. It's like trusting against my will. And more often than not, that's what I do. But right now, I'm tired of trusting only halfway. It's exhausting. It dishonors me and the work I'm going to do. But most importantly, it dishonors God.

People often use the phrase "It was a come to Jesus moment." flippantly, often not in the context of Jesus at all. I am aware of the cultural associations that this phrase invokes, especially in secular crowds, where I spend quite a bit of my time. And sometimes I forget that every moment is, in reality, a "come to Jesus moment." I think I need to be aware of those moments much more often, if I want to retain my sanity. It's so funny. We talk all the time about how difficult trust is. But I realized that I've been living with the alternative for a while now, and it's not at all appealing. In light of that alternative, to trust seems to be the only responsible, sane choice to make. And it occurs to me that trusting is just like forgiving. It's not a one-and-done kind of thing. Trust isn't something that sits on the shelf. It must be renewed again and again to stay viable. Lord help me.

Identity, transition, and ego

I never realized how much of my identity comes from being able to predict simple, reccurring daily events, however mundane. Just knowing what to expect from a day, insofar as one can, is empowering. I think I know what's coming, and for the most part, I know I can handle it. I'm in a routine, doing so many things without thinking about them. Things like getting in my car, turning it on, and driving home.

But the more my responsibilities in Boston change, as I prepare to leave in a month, I'm finding I don't know exactly where I fit in society, in the various groups I've been a part of for several years. I've become less sure of myself - in a good way. As I walk down the street now, I'm not so fiercely purposeful. I actually look up sometimes, and am more aware of what's going on around me. When I encounter people, my mind has stopped automatically categorizing them. I see more of their humanity. I've observed how often I predict how I think others will act, what I expect them to say next in a conversation. And I judge people. A lot. I evaluate them against my idea of how life should be lived. As they say in Missouri, whooooo, boy. This is not good.

But right now, my most common expectation is that I don't know what to expect. From life, from other people, from myself. The funny thing is that I didn't know I HAD been doing otherwise. I didn't realize how drunk with power I've been, when I had (a) clear job description(s), places to go, things to doooo. When I was used to the idea of staying in Boston, of building a life here. I was a part of things. And now, well, I guess in a way I'm starting to feel like I'm on the outside, looking in.

I walked around Beacon Hill the other day, and saw young nannies pushing children around in strollers. Just a few years ago, I used to do this every day! And now, it seems like a completely different world, another era, like something out of a story I read or a film I watched. It's familiar to me, but I don't identify with it. I almost found myself saying, "Why, how, do I know what that's like?"

I guess I feel disoriented. I'm not dizzy, ready to collapse, I'm just out of sorts a bit. Unsure. And in a way, I feel more present and less present at the same time. How about that. I'm not depressed, or unhappy, just... different.

The most predominant observation I've made is that, boy, was I busy. I've simply got to stop that. It's hardly surprising, though, I've known this for quite some time.

Life is so much more than an endless series of meetings, tasks, and to-do lists. And in thinking that I was living so efficiently, fitting everything in, I've missed a whole bunch. Like, sitting down for a while and just thinking. Or, going to a lecture on economics, like I did today, that helped me see the world in a different way, and then chatting with friends about it.

Goodness. Isn't life wonderful? So much to do, and see, and be, and become, and appreciate, and enjoy. And the most wonderful part about it all, is that the world doesn't revolve around me and my schedule and my judgments. Whew. :)

Hokey-Pokey

I don't mean to be so inconsistent about posting here. Sorry.

It sure has been a wonderful 5 weeks on the road, saying many goodbye's, meeting new people, seeing so much of our country. The worst roads award goes to 2 states: Arkansas and West Virginia. It doesn't please me to have to report that, but there it is. Perhaps these two states could petition for more of the federal government's giveaway money to support their dilapidated highway systems?

This is an interesting time. I feel as if I'm in a constant state of hokey-pokey. One minute my right foot is still in Boston, the next it's in Germany! Example: I returned home last night, today I unpacked my car and had a rehearsal for a recording I'm doing on Thursday. Clearly, I'm still in Boston. But I also bought a roundtrip plane ticket from Düsseldorf, Germany to Krakau, Poland, for the GEM Annual Conference in August. Mastercard even e-mailed me to make sure my card hadn't been stolen, since I obviously live in Boston yet bought a plane ticket between two European destinations!

Speaking of singing, tonight's rehearsal was wonderful in many ways. However, my experience was similar to that of the Apostle Paul's, which he describes in Romans 7, here incorporating singing terms:

"I don't understand myself at all, for I really want to do what is right [sing high, soft, sustained notes with the correct breath speed and vowel placement], but I don't do it... No matter which way I turn, I can't make myself do right [sing with absolutely correct technique]. I want to, but I can't."

I know, it's silly. But this is an old wound. It's so frustrating when I have a sound and interpretation in mind, and can't reproduce it! The more frustrating part is that I know I am able to do it! If my voice teacher had been there, she could have gotten my voice to produce the ideal in my mind. The most ridiculous part is that rather than taking a few minutes to pray, analyze, and make the appropriate changes, I throw a bit of a temper tantrum.

I hope Thursday's recording finds me in a better frame of mind, to focus calmly on the task at hand, and trust that whatever comes out of my mouth will be just fine. Even if it isn't an exact representation of my intentions. It's the same as trusting my soul with God, even when I'm doing the evil that I know I shouldn't do. I have to trust him to finish the good work he's started, even when it doesn't seem so good to me.

Yeah. I think I've read that in the Bible somewhere.

Resolution

I can see! My eyes are fine after my recent debacle with the hydrogen peroxide contact lens solution. Whew!

AND, my new glasses came in the mail yesterday. So, barring any further unforseen, unfortunate accidents, my vision should be fine for years to come!

Rules of thumb: Ridiculously long road trip 2010 edition

First Rule of Thumb: Always be prepared

It sounds so simple. But it's really difficult to be prepared for every eventuality while traveling by car across half of this gigantic mass of land we call the United States of America! Before I left Boston on December 21, I had made a mental note of several things that I would probably run out of during my 5 weeks away from home. One of the most important of these was contact solution. I wear my glasses so often these days, I thought it wouldn't matter. WRO...O...O...ONG. The second day of my trip, I stepped on my glasses, and broke them in half. How? I stupidly put them on the floor when going to bed, and when I woke up the next morning, I couldn't see where I had put them, because I obviously can't see without my glasses! It's so sad. I LOVED those glasses! Several hours later I even took the month-old lenses from said glasses to an eyewear outlet to find new frames so I could continue wearing my glasses often, thus making due with the amount of lens solution I had, but it didn't work out. That's a tale for another time. (Barbara, if only that "semper paratus" pocket kit you gave me for Christmas last year were big enough to hold contact solution!)

Second Rule of Thumb: Always, always, always read the instructions

As previously stated, I thought I could make due with the amount of contact lens solution remaining in the last bottle I had. Pictured here is the solution in question. There are two curious things about this particular shot. It's 1) blurry, and 2) sideways. There are perfectly good explanations for this. I'll get to them in a minute.

You can't read the red banner at the top of the label, but here is what it says:

"Use only the lens case provided." There is also a further warning on the side of the label: "Do not use a flat lens case. Clear Care ONLY works with the special lens case provided." They even provide pictures to ensure that idiots like me follow the instructions. None of this helped me, however, because it never even occurred to me to read the instructions. "It's just contact lens solution, I don't have enough to fill the case they provide, and I'm sure it will be fine if I use my flat case," I thought. Again, WRO...O...O...ONG. Why? HYDROGEN PEROXIDE is the first ingredient listed! They are NOT kidding when they say not to use a flat case. When I went to put the lens in my eye, I thought I was going to DIE! I had to pry my eyelids open to clumsily fish the offending lens out of my eye to make the terrible pain stop! This picture is blurry because 1) I couldn't see ANYTHING after this, and it is sideways because 2) I was knocked to the ground by the shock of such pain! I spent the next 20 minutes rinsing my eye with water. That was fun.

Third Rule of Thumb: Don't step on your glasses.

Fourth Rule of Thumb: Make a list of the things you need, and GO OUT AND BUY THEM! Seriously, Kristi!