Across the Pond

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It took two years and a lot of soul-searching, but I’m across the Atlantic once again!

For the next year, I’ll be calling London my home (away from home), while I complete a postgraduate degree in Refugee Studies. This is something I’d been thinking about since I returned from volunteering in Calais in 2015, and while the prospect of returning to school is still daunting, the culture shock is beginning to fade.

While I’m sure each day will bring new discoveries and challenges, the past week has led me to throw out almost all of my preconceived notions of ‘what a brit is’ and experience the unique and abundant variety of accents, dialects, styles, habits, and opinions found in my own corner of London.

Have you lived in the UK? Any tips are appreciated!

GO! … where? how? when? why?

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It’s been a roller coaster of a summer. Agreed?

The world is in turmoil and it’s a struggle to balance reality with hype-ality, to stay grounded and remember to dream, to trust in God and question His will every other moment. Maybe some of you are not like that … maybe some of you have unshakable faith and confidence beyond that of the average person – more power to you – but I am just this overactive heart restrained by a pragmatic brain.

Having said all this, I have been blessed to enjoy moving back home and wandering along backroads – some new, some old. As a child those places held so much magic and now that the landscape and I have aged, maybe we’ve both lost our mystique. New adventures and greener pastures call out to me, while part of me wants to get to know my parents in a new way now that I’m an adult. The idea of being far away, in another state or on another continent, is a little overwhelming. Then in moments of courage I think “no. GO!” I remind myself that giving into fear is a lack of trust in God – that I cannot hide from the world.

And then it struck me … some of us are meant to ‘GO’ … maybe not forever … maybe nowhere dangerous … but maybe that urge is actually us hearing someone crying out to us … crying out for hope … reaching out from the wilderness they are in.

Do you see people or wonder things that others don’t? To be open can feel like a curse, but I’d rather live with no exact direction, then be stuck in one that blinded me. Anyone else wanting to ‘GO’? Where should we ‘GO’?

I keep thinking about how we say things in the west like, “the Middle East is complicated”, “there’s no simple solution”, “they’re stuck in the middle ages”, etc. etc. Then my heart responds: what if they knew they were created in love with a purpose?

That ‘what if’ sticks with me when I watch the news or read comments on social media sites … that ‘what if’ seemed like a naive afterthought until I read ‘Jesus’ Five-Part Strategy for Dealing with ISIS’ by Carl Medearis – and ‘Absurd in Afghanistan’ by Andrew Doran.

Doran’s source “Joseph” asserts that the colonization of the Middle East (specifically Afghanistan) through secular means will never create stability or the foundations for a cohesive society as seen in the West. “The Afghans wanted to talk to us about what we value … but we had to censor ourselves … One time they asked if I prayed. When I said ‘Yes,’ they laughed because they thought I was joking … America’s institutional culture did nothing to alter this impression … That is, you can have no meaningful impact if you don’t have the courage to engage people on the level of culture. Governments cannot really do this; only people can.”

HOW?! HOW do you reach someone who is living in complete and utter fear – terrorized by those who claim to share their faith, by their neighbors and even family members? HOW?! I had no answer after reading this article, but it presented an interesting possibility – if armies, politics, and diplomacy cannot save us, cannot bring peace, what or who can.

*LIGHTBULB*

While the Israelites waited for a king – a warrior – a baby was born in a lowly stable – greeted by shepherds and wisemen who may have been ancestors of the Yazidi tribe fleeing Iraq today. If we believe that the Messiah came to save sinners and saints – that He was born to a woman who could have suffered the barbaric punishment of stoning, that He was adopted and raised by an observant man of ‘the Book’, that He was a refugee who fled what was basically a genocide (much like what is going on in Iraq), then I think we have answered this enormous question.

So what does that mean for us?

In Medearis’ blog entry he challenges us ‘the Church’: “If the church had done its job of sharing Jesus in the Arab world in years past, would we have this issue? If the boys who are now men in ISIS heard and received the good news of Jesus ten years ago, would they be doing what they are now?”

That’s a heavy load … so we’re supposed to give up our lives and safety to what – be executed like James Foley, Steven Sotloff, and David Haines? The answer is even heavier – we’re supposed to give up our lives and safety to live a life of sharing hope with those who have yet to be reached – we are called to be Paul, Augustine, Teresa, and Catherine. We are called not to be sedentary but to GO to the ends of the Earth, to the depths of souls, to serve fervently, to love without condition, to forgive as we have been forgiven.

How will we respond to the world crying out for peace and mercy? Will we GO? Will we love through our prayer and support.

Each of us seek our purpose – through work, family, friends, hobbies, etc. There is something powerful and compelling about being part of something, making a difference in the world, having the respect of those around you. All of this is good – but easily twisted. These promises are made to young men and women who continue to join in violent acts throughout the world (whether in Iraq, North Korea, Mexico, Belgium, Ukraine, and even the US).

Are we prepared to be an army of love, a people of truth? If ever there was a time to ask if the Church is prepared to live out our faith it is now. This is not an easy question, this is not a knee-jerk reaction. Rather something stirring that I am waiting to hear echoed in the hearts and voices of others.

If we are called to be Christ-like, to be disciples, to be open to the Spirit in a new Pentecost, then are we called to join the Israelites in the promised land – are we the ones who will share Christ’s light in the desert? If we GO – if we build churches, dig wells, create schools, provide medicine for the sick, visit the injured and imprisoned, if we are called … then let us heed Paul’s words:

“Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.” Romans 12:21

Flashbacks

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Have you ever unexpectedly crossed paths with someone from your past? Not just anyone, but someone you thought of as a friend … someone who impacted your way of seeing the world?

While some run-ins can be quickly forgotten, others can make you flash back to another decade, can give you whiplash that takes a moment to shake off. This was one of those times.

The other day I was at a local fair wandering through some of the tents while waiting for the next horse exhibition … not expecting to see anyone I know/knew, definitely not expecting to stand beside someone who had crossed my mind time and again throughout the last ten years. But there we were – literally next to one another, whether by chance or by design.

Thirteen years ago, when we were both different people, we shared Art and English classes. While I struggled to find a place, he seemed to glide through the social barriers unscathed, unattached. He read philosophy and listened to indie rock bands – both relatively new to me. I joined every club and organized every school event while he played various sports and watched unheard of films. Needless to say I love indie music, foreign films, traveling, and ended up minoring in Philosophy. He – probably completely unaware – opened up a world of possibilities just by being interesting and unique – unafraid.

After graduation he headed to art school and I opted for a more inclusive liberal arts environment – we both faced our own challenges and heartbreaks and every now and then I’d hear he was doing this or that – traveling, studying, working, etc.

We both happened to be home on break a few years ago and met at a bookstore to catch up. The truth is I don’t know if we had ever had a real one-on-one conversation before that, so I don’t know what either of us could have said in a couple of minutes in a horse-barn to summarize nearly a decade.

As we stood there listening to our mothers discuss our siblings’ current state of affairs, neither of us said anything. Although I’m quiet, I can usually put a few words together  – but between my lack of current affairs, and the whiplash of wondering if either of us were recognizable versions of our younger selves, I only muttered something like “that’s nice of you” after he admitted to conceding to his mother’s interest in spending the afternoon at the horse exhibit, before we both said goodbye and walked in opposite directions.

The rest of the day I drifted in and out of conversations and couldn’t quite focus on other exhibits. I kept asking myself where the time had gone – what I had done with my life, but more importantly – who I was, who I’d become. The 18-year-old in my past was focused, hopeful, undeterred, optimistic. Where did that person go? Was she still inside, buried under years of soul-sucking work and relationships?

The whiplash wore off the next morning and I realized that while I’d love to re-connect with him some day, it was more a re-connection with myself that I longed for.

Don’t you love those moments? Why does insight come only after it slaps you in the face?!

 

Listen up Ladies …

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Are you tired of strategic relationships, guilt-trip invitations, crying to your significant other about that one horrible group of girls in your life, listening to your gal-pals rag on your best guy friend, and sticking around to see if it’ll get better?

Maybe I’m the barer of bad news, maybe I’m cynical, maybe I grew up with brothers and have no patience for the chess game that has become friendship between women, but I’ve gotta believe that there are others like me – out there – somewhere!

My best friend until I was ten was amazing – but I don’t know if I ever told her that … if she ever knew that she was probably one of the only females I ever trusted. Why don’t we cherish one another!? Throughout high school and college I had one or two good girlfriends but some of my favorite moments (whether it’s emotionally or psychologically healthy) were with my guy friends. Spending a weekend watching the star wars, godfather, and lord of the rings trilogies; staying up all night to help move a mega-size gazebo in front of the student union doors for April Fools; playing soccer and frisbee golf until we passed out; meeting up for happy hour and darts; being fiercely competitive with Mafia and knowing that they wouldn’t care; and sometimes crying on their shoulders.

This isn’t to say I haven’t done these things with friends who are girls – because I have – just far fewer. I ended up with amazing female friends who were completely different from me, but still had no interest in the drama and emotion which envelopes so many relationships between women.

So listen up ladies! Life is NOT Sex in the City, or Real Housewives of you name the city; it is not Dance Moms, the Bachelor, or WifeSwap. Get yourselves together, take a moment – and reflect on what’s going on in the world outside your cul-de-sac and Facebook page.

The girls and women I most admire and respect are the ones who think of themselves last and have spent their lives trying to make a difference in the lives of others – no matter how small.

While we may be the queens of our homes, there are 3.5 billion other queens in the world so it makes sense that we’ll have to get along. If we got along as well as guys do think of what the world would be like – what a force for good we would be!

I’ve had to work – and still do – on trusting my own gender, but more often than not, letting my guard down and making an effort to get to know someone new has been fruitful. Has it taken time? more often than not. Am I territorial? sure – it’s that whole maternal nature / mating survival instinct thing. Would I rather hang out with my guy friends? sometimes. Do I miss the wonderful women in my life who are spread across the globe – and long for meaningful, sincere relationships? YES!

Let’s think of this as the ten commandments for female relationships:

1. thou shalt make an effort to appreciate the beauty and genius of every girl/woman in your life.

2. thou shalt listen and encourage one another.

3. thou shalt not exclude one another – unless she’s just certifiably insane (they exist).

4. thou shalt go out of your comfort zone and try new things – new relationships.

5. thou shalt not tear one another down and be spiteful.

6. thou shalt inspire the rest of us, young and old!

7. thou shalt love one another enough to compassionately call each other out on our crap.

8. thou shalt grow in humility and learn to move past differences of opinion.

9. thou shalt not go after another’s guy & thou shalt not settle for stupid guys!

10. thou shalt use your gifts & wisdom for good.

A Privileged Life

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History is littered with wars and tales of the ‘haves’ and ‘have nots’. There’s something sad about a life – anyone’s life being spent calculating what they do or do not have – what you or I should or should not have. I would much rather live a life of purpose – a life lived with the privilege of have a family who loves me, of loving others, of working smarter and with the goal of improving the lives of others through love. After all, in a hundred years we’ll all just be ghosts.

Tal Fortgang, a student at Princeton is having to defend who he is and the humble lives of his family members – because of his skin color and gender. While his grandparents fled the Nazis, my ancestors fled the Spanish Inquisition and the Great Potato Famine to face poverty, hard labor in coal mines, and suffering that had nothing to do with their genetic makeup.

Some of you have had ancestors who you will never know about – men, women, and children who made sacrifices so that our present would not carry the burden of their past but their selflessness and generosity of spirit – their hope for a better future.

Since when do we hate one another so much that we refuse to see each other as individuals – with amazing stories filled with wonderful characters? We are ALL privileged to be alive – the chances of any of us body and soul making our way to this life are miraculous; so shouldn’t we encounter each day and each face on the street as a gift? Yes life is hard, yes it’s unfair – so let’s work to make it a bit fairer and measuring one another by our actions and virtues instead of the DNA, citizenship, or economic category we may have been born into.

I’d be lying if I said I don’t see color – so would you, unless you’re legally blind – but what’s wrong with that? The world would be so boring without the beauty and intensity of colors. No rainbows, no green grass, no white snow, no blue oceans, no golden sands, no fireworks, no delicious strawberries or crisp peppers, just grey ash – no life. Without color from the sun there’s no life.

So maybe we all get a little bruised along our journeys around the sun, but it’s not the sun’s fault!

“The poor will always be with us” – that’s not a bad thing, we’re all poor; none of us escape without suffering. I won’t say it makes us stronger, but I will say it makes us more human to share that suffering and relate to one another through it. In one moment you and I can change someone’s life – for the worse or the better, if in that one moment we stopped and really saw one another then history wouldn’t repeat itself and the tales would be of peaceful reigns instead of great battles.

None of us have any control over our neighbor’s DNA (and hopefully never will) so instead of living a life of bitter envy and righteous indignation let’s begin a tomorrow of acceptance and partnership of bold adventure into the unknown – a life filled with miraculous moments encountering the beauty and wisdom that lies in our neighbors’ hearts.

Let’s lay down our harsh words, our political platforms, our weapons, and prejudices. Let’s be thankful instead of entitled, and bring more color and love into this epic odyssey, leaving a legacy – so that in a hundred years we’re more than just ghosts~Image

Spring Rains

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Long ago and far away … I ran in the rain with my then roommate Amy. It was the beginning of something amazing and healing.

Summer rains in the Ohio Valley are nothing to laugh at, unless you’re in India or Haiti, but on top of our hill, the winds would whip every raindrop against your skin until the struggles of the day seemed scrubbed away.

That first run could barely be called a run; it was more of a lighthearted jog around campus – enjoying the short-lived relief from June’s heat and humidity. Amy and I continued to jog at night or in the rain and chat and push each other, and then jump in her car and get a frosty to cool down. Even after she left that summer, I ran – to clear my head, to exhaust myself, to relieve stress, to enjoy friends’ company .. but little did I know that nearly two years later I would run that same loop at night, in the rain, to cry and let go and heal.

It had been what I thought was an impossibly difficult year, and I knew going into it that I wasn’t ready. I would encounter the first of several personal challenges for years to come. One year after Amy and I began running, I was asked to lead a team of students on a service trip to Mexico, to where I was born, to where my heart had been molded. I said yes without hesitation. Our leadership group, consisting of students, recent grads, and one character of a TOR friar, spent the next couple of months planning, working, relaxing, and preparing for the future – which for some of us would be unexpected.

That fall, the school decided to install new leadership and the boat that was my trip began to rock .. and leak … and because I thought I was in control, I tried to keep it afloat. Seven years later I still wonder if it was worth it – if I should have said the weight on my shoulders was too much.

Somewhere around the time of the trip, I ran into a friend from the past summer who had changed and faced his own struggles. It broke my heart and I’m still not sure why exactly, other than: that I was faced with the realization that no one is strong enough to handle our harsh world alone. I walked away from him, went to my room, put on my running shoes, and ran into the rain, through the night in search of healing.

To this day I haven’t asked what changed him … I don’t think I have to, because I’ve learned that we all change and part of life is allowing ourselves to be challenged – growing in humility and asking for the grace to stand up and face the next obstacle.

Although the rain outside is without howling winds or fierce cracks of thunder, spring’s showers continue to amaze me as they bring the earth to life, raising flowers from the soil, opening buds on trees, softening the early morning light and promising a future of growth and restoration~

 

Hello’s the best part

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An old friend called me tonight and the first thing I thought of was the last time we spoke, the last time we said goodbye … the last time I said goodbye to anyone I love(d). But what about those spontaneous, petrifying, exhilarating, life altering moments that not only introduce us to new faces and names, but provide us with bosom-buddies, soul mates, adversaries, mentors, or heroes.

Disney paints a pretty goodbye – unrealistic though the happily ever after may be, at least the first encounters are usually memorable. It’s no wonder I (and others of my generation) hope for a life filled with storybook moments. But these days, nobody ever remembers the hellos.

So I thought I’d give it a try and see how accurately I remember Tyler’s ‘hello’.

Sophomore year I somehow ended up between the cafeteria and one of the girls’ dorms catching up with a few friends who were helping orientate some of the passing by freshmen. That’s when and where I met Rachel, who would end up being one of my dearest friends … who called me this Christmas to let me know she’d just gotten engaged! Rachel was born in England and moved to Philadelphia when she was younger. Somewhere along the way she had befriended a couple of my closest friends, one of whom happened to be rooming with a tall, gangly, curly headed, energetic Freshman from New Jersey – Tyler. I’m pretty sure I met Tyler that same day, while exploring the dorm – seeking to reunite with friends from the year before. 

I say I’m pretty sure because as memorable as Tyler is, there are so many moments I look back on with amazement. Whether helping him sneak into someone’s room to decorate a Christmas tree, watching him sing John Mayer on stage in front of hundreds of people, packing up his room with friends while he sat on his bed wrapped up in a blanket coughing, giving him advice, listening to him talk to students about faith and scripture, or driving around campus with the windows down while he screamed out a Britney Spears song, we never talked about our ‘hello’ or thought about the goodbye … and unlike a Disney movie, we may not get one. The boy who was bigger than life and made his presence known, gradually subdued and became the articulate, patient, disciplined, inspirational young man who called me this evening, and maybe it’s our shared faith or maybe we’re just kindred spirits, but I hope that if we ever are lucky enough to have a goodbye that it will just be a way of looking forward to our next ‘hello’.

Life has a way of spreading loved ones apart and pushing us further away from one another, but just when you least expect it, you crash into one another again on the street, stand next to them at a wedding, call them for a shoulder to cry on or voice to keep you awake on a long drive home, or think about them out of the blue and smile … wondering how you’ll ever meet anyone like that again. But then – you just do.

one too many blogs

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Years ago I created a blog… And then like most things I forgot about it. Only when I tried to login to write a new post I ended up sharing photos in a story on my old blog. So I’ll share another story.

Since moving back to Pennsylvania from North Carolina I’ve enjoyed having the time of to catch up with old friends and explore some of the new shops that have opened since I moved away. Although there’s a small used bookstore in town it’s rarely open and their selection isn’t always up to date. Long story short, I went into Barnes & Noble the other day and picked up a book called Eating on the Wild Side. The author, Jo Robinson, gives a detailed list of wild fruits and vegetables which we have modified over the last few hundred years – resulting in produce that looks similar, but has less nutrition than it should.

During my time on the farm this summer, I was able to attend several workshops on planting and harvesting in a small scale garden. This spring I look forward to finding a small patch of land and trying out some of the seeds recommended in this book. It also has some interesting recipes which look simple enough for the novice chef.

In September one ofthe other apprentices and I went to Monticello in Virginia and enjoyed our time walking through the gardens and meeting with local farmers and even some horticultural authors. It was the first time I had ever seen flax grown or in a woven form. I’m interested to find out if anyone in the Mid Atlantic area has experience growing flax, weaving it, or using its seeds.

On BBC2 there’s a show called the Edwardian Farm. It’s amazing to see the uses of so many things that we have forgotten about in less than 100 years. The tips for drenching sheep, cleaning your floors, polishing wood, and cooking in an old wood stove are so simple and easy to follow. It makes me wonder if someday I would want a small farm with a horse drawn plow and old stone walls.

imageMeanwhile, in present day, we haven’t had any snow since last week, but we’ve had the coldest temperatures in decades, so I had some incentive to finally finish knitting a scarf which I began years ago (pictured above) just like I began the other blog. Once I finish my most recent project I will post it and see what your thoughts are. Until then, goodnight.

When life hands you sweet tea

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There is little to say at this point other than deciding to change is scary.

I spent the last six years unsuccessfully trying to become what I thought I was expected to be – a responsible adult who works hard, pays their bills, begrudgingly forks over tax dollars from every pay check, fixes their car on a semi-regular basis, and politely explains their job description to distant family members.

But after six years, I was tired and unfulfilled; so I made up my mind to make a change. No more desk. No more rent. No more awkward staff Christmas parties. No more driving through traffic. The question then, was on what path do all these ‘NOs’ lead me?

One year ago I began an online magazine which revealed a lot about where I want to go in life and how I need to change to get there. Three and a half issues and a dozen writers later, this full-time project had become a burden it was never meant to be; so it was time for more drastic change. Thanks to the magazine, I had been reading books I otherwise normally wouldn’t have read – one of them, Flee to the Fields, struck something in me.

The concept of learning to provide for myself and others, while becoming part of a community with similar goals and ideals, seemed to fit not only with my faith, but with who I am, who I want to become.

Suddenly, ideas began to fall in place, and a plan emerged. Step one: find something that makes me happy and healthy. Step two: be open to all possibilities. Step three: take a risk. Although this process felt a bit like playing Alice in Wonderland, I am glad to have finally picked a door through which I can see the light – no small task!

Yesterday, my four months of research, applications, and interviews paid off with an offer to work with an Agricultural Sustainability Program in North Carolina. There’s no doubt it will bring challenges, but here’s hoping there are many more rewards.

So it’s official; in two weeks I will be southward bound for the first part of a dream. Feel free to share any tips or advice about North Carolina ~