Let Go of the Old and Embrace the New (Larissa Marks - May 29, 2020)

Observation, Perspiration or Inspiration: 

I was once on a prayer retreat at a Benedictine monastery. This monastery had a beautiful, lush garden, and in the middle of the garden there was a stone path in the form of a large labyrinth. One of the monks of the monastery invited me to journey through the labyrinth, and explained it in this way - the labyrinth is a symbol for the journey to the center, both to our own center and to the center that is God. As you walk along the curving, yet purposeful pathway, you allow the old to fall away. In the center you find yourself and God, and in that place, receive the new that God has for you - new purpose, new identity, new wisdom. Then you journey again back out into the world with the new that you received.

As we have all been sheltering-in-place, I've been thinking about how much life currently feels like the journey through the labyrinth. It's been a winding road, perhaps disorienting at times. But the center is there, and once we reach it, we experience a deeper sense of ourselves and God. And now as restrictions are being lifted, maybe it's time to begin the journey back out.

I've had some notable "journey through the labyrinth" moments during the last few months. I have seen more clearly how God is in control and I am not. I have learned how much I am addicted to busyness and activity, and how that stems from an avoidance of things I'm afraid of. I have experienced God giving me permission to be more aware and authentic with my feelings and thoughts, which I often dismiss and ignore. And as I see myself and God more clearly, I am able to identify old ways of being that I need to release, and embrace new ways of being that God has for me.

It could be easy to be so focused on things opening back up that we miss the deep, transformative work of God. I hope and pray we would allow ourselves to receive all that God intends for us. Then perhaps we won't go back to life as usual, but head into an altogether new and transformed life.

What has the journey been like for you? What old things have you allowed to fall away? What new things have you received?

Prayer:

God, help us to allow your transformative work in us. Give us the faith and courage to let go of the old, and embrace the new. I pray that none of us would leave this season unchanged by you. Thank you, Jesus. Amen.

An Idea:

Take a moment to contemplate with God - what is something old he's inviting you to release? What is something new he's inviting you to receive?

How will we get back to "normal"? (Angie Gibbons - May 27, 2020)

Observation, Perspiration or Inspiration: 

After months of careful hand-scrubbing and hiding out, we are being asked to poke our little heads out of our shells and try to get back to “normal”.

Who here feels totally normal?

It makes me think of the Apollo 13 movie, when they made it through all of that craziness up in space. Stuff was breaking, warning lights were flashing, they had to make spaceship parts out of spare parts, and that one guy got sick.

Finally, they are falling back to earth and flames are shooting all around the capsule. They are sweating and you are just hoping their heat shield will hold up. The radio signal goes out. And everybody’s quiet in Houston. What is going to happen? Will they survive and come out the other side of re-entry?

(If you don’t know the story, they did, and so will we.)

This is our re-entry period, and the way we approach it is important. There are a lot of opinions and emotions flying all over the place. How will we respond?

Psalm 46:1 says, “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.” I’ve heard these words so many times, but recently I heard them differently. In this verse I find that God is BOTH a good place to hide out, and also my strength when hiding is done.

Option 1 on hard or uncertain days is take refuge.
God is my best mental and emotional safe place, where I can seek comfort, process, and heal. There will be days when that is absolutely the best thing for me to do.

Option 2 is take on his strength.
He is also the strength that my heart and my limbs need when I have to push through and get out there and fight. Those are times of practicing faith before I see the results. There will be days when THAT is absolutely the best thing to do.

Take comfort in the fact that there is not a right way to feel about this season. God is not judging our weakness or uncertainty about the future. He is cheering us on, and He is fully sufficient for wherever we are at today.

Prayer:

"God, more than anyone else you know what I've been going through and what I need. You know every thought and concern today. Please direct my thoughts and my steps. Amen."

An Idea:

Ask God to show up for you in the way you most need it. What is one thing weighing on your mind today? He is both refuge AND  strength. Whatever space you are in, God is ready to meet you there.

(no pun intended)

Honoring and Following Sacrifice (Sonya Seng - Memorial Day, May 25, 2020)

Observation, Perspiration or Inspiration:  

While the Covid pandemic has set the world on its heels in an unprecedented manner, it might be helpful to remember other world events that have drastically altered "life as they knew it". Since it’s Memorial Day, let’s reflect and gain strength as we remember how generations before us sacrificed for others.

For context, here are some numbers worth registering. Covid deaths in the US as of today number just over 98,000. That’s less than 1/6^th of the 618,000 soldiers who died in the Civil War – and most of them were young, with multiple deaths in many families. Over 116,000 US soldiers died in WWI and over 405,000 US soldiers in WWII. And of course, these were just from the American forces. 20 million soldiers died worldwide in WWII out of 75 million total casualties. Covid, thankfully, has not in the slightest anywhere approached such devastation. Still, we feel the pinch of sacrifice and inconvenience, and in times to come, we will likely have greater opportunity to serve principally and generously. And we have beautiful role models in our country’s service men and women.

But lest we Amazon-shopping, iPhone wielding gourmands are tempted to simplistically stereotype the life of the soldier, I thought I’d make it personal. I mean, yours truly has never served in the military, and was never a ROTC kid --  I can’t even watch people get bloody in movies. 

But my father served. And many of your parents or grandparents did. Maybe we can authentically connect to their stories. 

My dad, Edmund Chew Keung Lum, was born and raised in Honolulu, went to Central Intermediate and then St. Louis Highschool.  He was tall for a Chinese guy - 5'10" and he played basketball. Pearl Harbor was bombed when he was 18 and he was drafted into the Army, along with his cousin Chew Mung. They were ferried across the Pacific via “dark ship” avoiding enemy planes and did basic training in Georgia.  He was accepted into the Army Service Training Program, and, responding to the army's need for more doctors, studied to become a surgeon. He wasn’t done in time for WWII but got called in 1951 to serve in the Korean War in the 25^th Infantry.

His service in Korea began in July of 1951, when he and Mom had been married just 3 years, and they had as yet not been able to have children. He spent 18 months at the most dangerous medical position, at the front lines where he was a first responder to the freshly wounded, both American and Korean. While this was a more hazardous position, those who opted for it were able shorten their field duty by 6 months. While he was desperately trying to save lives, he also packed a gun and was said to have been an excellent shot. If you’ve ever watched the old TV show MASH, the surviving wounded would have come to them from his group. He entered as a lieutenant and finished as a captain. On his return home, he was awarded the Bronze Star medal for bravery. He rarely talked to us about what he saw and did, but would shake his head and say “war is terrible”. Once he told us about marching through the high grass of agricultural land and going to sleep in the field, only to be awakened in the rain as he and his mat floated away in the flooding rice paddy.

 

But he did write his wife. Almost every day. And the box of his letters, most handwritten with a straight and smooth hand, convey a youthful, articulate and affectionate awareness I rarely heard in his later years. But letters used to be like that, you know. Especially when they were written from a place of meaningful isolation from those you love, and in uncertain times. (Perhaps we should try writing some now?) Soldiers letters were censored for battleground details so they were kept purely personal.

I hope you'll enjoy the following transcription of a letter my Dad wrote my Mom while stationed in Korea but on a week of R&R in Asaka, Japan at Camp Drake. It has several wonderful details and will give you a feel of the uncertain, and therefore more precious, tenor of communication in that time. No text messages or Instagram. He had served over a year at the front and was 4 months away from coming home. His younger brother, Donald, happened to be stationed in Tokyo at the time and he mentions the joy of meeting him in Tokyo and getting to eat rice with him each night that week – not a regular part of his army rations!   He explains his happy surprise that my Mom decided to get baptized; he had become a Catholic in college and Mom, from Chicago, had no religious background. He also describes the startling experience of waking up to an earthquake there. 


The top picture shows him receiving the Bronze Star upon his return home. And at left is one of his return to Mom and his parents. Hundreds of thousands did not make it home.

Thank you to all who have served us though you would never know us.  May we follow your footsteps well in our generation.

And to my Dad, thanks for everything. I miss you very much. See you soon.  

 [Explanation: My mom's name is Florence, and, in the way pet names develop, Dad called her Phob, probably connecting to Phoebe and then short to Phob]

18 May 53 – Monday

Dearest Phob-

I was very much surprised and slightly worried when I was paged yesterday for an incoming long-distance call from Honolulu. Very unexpected! In the first place, no one at home knew I was at Camp Drake. And as a matter of fact, I made an appointment at the American Telephone Co. for a call to Chicago, assuming you were already there. This I cancelled as soon as I was notified of your call.

It made me extremely happy to be able to talk to you again. From my end the reception was very good, especially on the 2^nd frequency. You sounded as though you were next to me. I was home-sick and love-sick after our call was completed. I miss you considerably, am everlasting thinking of you. I hope I sounded clear to you. Did I make sense in my conversation?

After our call was completed, which was 4 in the afternoon, I joined Donald [his younger brother who was stationed in Japan] in Tokyo for supper. He was overjoyed learning his civilian clothes were on the way and everybody at home is all right. He also was surprised you located and called me at Camp Drake. We had a Chinese dinner, then went to a show at Ernie Pyle. Since meeting him last Monday, we have had dinner together every nite, and usually seeing a movie afterwards.

I was extremely happy to learn from your own voice that you received the Sacrament of Baptism on your birthday and were confirmed 3 days later. I know you always carried the Faith in your heart and though prepared, wanted to learn more of it materially. God bless you, my sweet, and may He grant you lastingly an increase in Faith, Hope & Charity. And may our Blessed Virgin forever intercede for you & your prayers.

Last night I remained in Tokyo, staying in the Air Force Officers billeting Hotel. (Didn’t have to pay a cent). This A.M. about 7 I was awakened by an earthquake – the first I ever experienced in Japan. I wasn’t alarmed, realizing it was an earthquake for my bed was moving from side to side, forward & backwards – lasting 2-3 minutes. But frightened because I was on the 7^th floor. What an exasperating sensation!

I will be leaving for Korea tomorrow morning around 10 AM by air. Hope to join my unit later in the afternoon or the latest, the following morning.

At the present I’m waiting for Donald to join me for dinner in Tokyo. We’ve been eating rice nightly. I sure miss it a lot. The Chinese cooking here still can’t beat those of home.

Take care of yourself, sweet. And give my love to all at home. May our Lord be merciful to us, and may the remaining 4 months speed along with His Grace.

Most lovingly – Ed.

Prayer:

Lord, we can never rightly honor all the soldiers, and their families, who willingly paid the ultimate sacrifice to protect and defend our country. Please bless them and be gracious to them. Thank you for these amazing individuals who came to serve from thousands of cultural and family contexts, alive with plans, humor, romance and dreams for a long and better future. Help us, God, to remember we enjoy the incomparable benefits of being Americans because of their sacrifices. Help us follow their example of “putting our money where our mouth is”. Especially in our coming months of need, help us follow suit and live and give with gratitude, humility and courageous principle. Amen.

An Idea:

Find a family who lost a soldier in service and ask them to tell you a story about that loved one and write it down for them. Or, as I did, transcribe a letter or two for a surviving family member. Then, share it with your family, and express honor for them with younger friends or those who don't personally know a veteran.

Done With Adulting (Elijah Yip - May 22, 2020)

Photo by João Rafael on Unsplash

Observation, Perspiration or Inspiration: 

I recently started watching a new series about the life of Jesus called The Chosen.  You should know that I cringe a little whenever a new film about Jesus comes out.  I’m all for sharing the Gospel story, but I’m always afraid that a film portrayal of Jesus will turn out cheesy.  It’s hard to capture the depth and beauty of Christ.  But I was pleasantly surprised by The Chosen.  It’s the best screen adaptation of the Gospels I’ve ever seen, hands-down.

The series does take artistic license to develop the backstory of many characters and events in the Gospels.  For example, the second episode starts with a little girl wandering into a camp.  No one’s there.  The girl starts playing with stuff in the camp until she hears its occupant returning.  She quickly hides to see who it is.  It’s Jesus.  She’s intrigued by him, so the next day, she returns to the camp with her best friend.  Sure enough, Jesus is there, and he welcomes them to join him.  Before long, the girl and all her friends are regular visitors to Jesus’ camp, sort of like the precursor to his band of disciples.

In The Chosen, Jesus’ interactions with children are warm and dignifying.  He plays with them like he’s one of their own.  He honors their inquisitiveness.  He treats them like they belong.  It’s like watching a real-life portrayal of Jesus’ teaching that “unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of God.” (Matthew 18:3)

Watching this moved me because one thing God has been working on me for a while is being more child-like.  Being forced to stay at home more has helped me make strides in this regard because I get to hang around my kids a lot more.  Here are some of my main takeways from observing my kids:

• Uninhibited affection.  Kids show affection without fear of rejection or violating protocol.  And their affectionate displays are often spontaneous.  My 3-year old regularly kisses me on my butt for no reason at all.

• Unfiltered imagination.  Children are capable of imagining the wildest things.  The laws of physics and good taste pose no limit to their creativity.  A pink rhino eating pasta on the moon?  You call it silly.  They call it awesome. 

• Present-mindedness.  Rarely are the past and the future the center of a child’s attention.  The present is where it’s at for them.  Living in the moment helps them take in their environment in wonderment.  My oldest son stopped in the middle of a field once and said with a long excited sigh: “Tree!”  Then he sat down and stared at said tree for the next five minutes. 

• Constant curiosity.  Kids constantly ask questions because the world is so new to them.  They’re not afraid of asking questions, no matter how dumb they might seem to others.  Well, the Kingdom of Heaven is a pretty foreign thing even to adults.  Might we learn a thing or two about the Kingdom if we approached it with child-like curiosity?  James said, “You do not have, because you do not ask.”  (James 4:2)  Maybe we should “pester” God with more questions. 

• Purity of heart.  “Kids say the darndest things.”  Kids, especially younger ones, are pretty transparent with their motives.  Not all their motives are good—some are downright selfish—but they have little trouble laying it all out there.  As a parent, it’s easier to guide a child who is transparent about where they’re at.  “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God,” Jesus said. (Matthew 5:8)  Transparency helps us connect with the heart of the Father. 

• Receiving well.  I’ve never had my kids refuse an offer of ice cream.  They don’t wonder if there are any strings attached, deem themselves unworthy of such a treat, or say they’re too busy working to enjoy it.  I’m guessing our heavenly Father has some treats in store for me as well.  Maybe I should get better at receiving them. 

Prayer:

Lord, we can learn a lot from children because that’s who we are to you, and you love us immensely because we are your children.  Help me to receive your care, correction, and calling like a child would.  Thank you, Jesus.  Amen.

An Idea:

Watch some YouTube videos about kids saying funny things.  Not only will you get some laughs, but maybe your mindset might shift a little toward much-needed childlikeness.

Reverse Outliers (Ben Fowler - May 20, 2020)

Observation, Perspiration or Inspiration: 

Abundant food is in the fallow ground of the poor but it is swept away by injustice.                                           -Proverbs. 13:23

During this quarantine, I have had a chance to read a lot more than usual. Something struck me as I read for the second time, one of my favorites. In his book Outliers, Malcolm Gladwell tries to debunk the myth that successful people are self made. He points out that it is most often random circumstance (luck), privilege, opportunity, plus hard work that brings success. All of these factors outside one's control, plus a little elbow grease must come into play. No one is self made. Inversely, the author of this proverb teaches us that the abundant food available for the needy is swept away by others' injustice. Just as rich men are not self made, neither are the poor.

Rarely are things as simple or 'black and white' as they seem. Yes, most of the world lives in poverty, but not because of their choices, or lack of the earth's ability to produce but because of injustice. The world's system seems to help some more than others.

Leonard Cohen's 'Tower of Song' poignantly alludes to this:

'Now you can say that I've grown bitter but of this you may be sure.

The rich have got their channels in the bedrooms of the poor.

And there's a mighty judgement coming, but I may be wrong.

You see, you hear these funny voices in the Tower of Song'

What we see and what God sees are not always the same thing. It is important for the Church to look a little deeper and try to see things as God sees them. Yes, poverty is often caused by one's choices but that is not always the case. The truth is, all of us have made bad choices but some have lesser consequences and more opportunities to rebound. The rich often have cushions to dampen their fall. The poor have welfare. The rich have parents who pay for their college, the poor have student loans. The rich know people at the top, the poor can't get an interview.

Prayer:

Lord, give us empathy, the ability to put ourselves in each other's shoes and withhold judgment until we have looked a little deeper. Let us be our brother's keeper and stretch our opportunities to those with thinner cushions than our own. Amen.

An Idea:

There is so much potential locked within the hearts of the less fortunate. There are businesses, churches, teachers, leaders, and scientists. As the Church and as individuals, let's do our best to help those in need with generosity and joy. Especially, during these tough times.

If you're feeling disconnected and discouraged (Angie Gibbons - May 18, 2020)

Observation, Perspiration or Inspiration: 

Is anyone struggling with discouragement?

We are wired for connection with other humans. Is it any wonder that this forced disconnection is difficult for us in a myriad of ways?

Maybe you have had one or more of the following thoughts recently:

• I'm not sure how much my friends really care about me or value me.
• Everything feels different within my community now.
• Maybe my friends or church members aren't as invested in me as I am in them.
• When the quarantine lifts, I won’t go back to church (or other social activities)

You are not the only one. Social isolation is tough! It’s no joke. It is not good for the human soul. And one of Satan's ploys is to try to make us feel that we are the only ones who feel the way we do and that no one understands us.

If you are feeling lonely, isolated, or discouraged about your relationships here are some things to consider:

1. In times of disconnection like this (which is no one’s fault) it is normal to question your relationships or to feel insecure. That doesn’t mean those feelings are speaking truth to you.
 
2. The enemy is prowling like a lion even now seeking anyone he can devour. Don’t let him devour you with discouragement, self-pity, or lies.
 
3. God has a good plan for you even in isolation, and he will help you through the transitions back to normal community.

4. We most often find community when we reach out for it, not when we wait for it to happen.

This is not the time to lean away from people.
Even though we can't meet as a large community, this is a time to press in to relationships in whatever ways you can. You are not alone in your feelings of isolation. Some of your own friends are wishing someone would reach out to them.

Instead of waiting around for someone to come to you, text a friend, send an email, attend that Zoom Ohana group and let them know honestly how you’re doing, or speak to your neighbor across the street.

Take a step of faith in relationship, and put your focus on being the kind of friend to others that you are needing right now.You will find joy in being a blessing!

Prayer:

"Dear Jesus, you understand pain and human struggle. Thank you for seeing me where I am, as I am, and being the friend and comfort I need. Help me to keep my eyes on you and not my feelings. Help me to be the kind of friend that others desperately need. Thank you for being sufficient to meet ALL of my needs. Amen."

An Idea:

Reach out to 3 friends via text or email (or however you usually communicate) and ask how they are doing, ask how you can pray for them, and see if they want to talk.

Don't Be a Stranger to What You Most Deeply Want (Larissa Marks - May 13, 2020)

I've been considering those words of Father Greg Boyle recently, and have come to realize that oftentimes, I am a stranger to what I most deeply want. Recently, I've sensed Jesus asking me, "What do you want? What do you want me to do for you?" These are simple questions, yet I find them so difficult to answer. My true desires are often buried under other things that drive my life, like responsibilities, expectations, should's and should-nots. What I most deeply want sometimes feels like a stranger.

The other day, I witnessed my daughter in a moment of complete knowing of what she wanted. She got a chance to see her grandparents in person for the first time since the social distancing orders went into effect. She was so excited, but then we told her she had to stay 6 feet away from her grandparents, and she began to cry. "But I want to hug them. Why can't I hug them?" More tears. Her desire was pure and simple - she wanted to hug her grandparents, and was sad that she couldn't. Seeing her clarity and awareness of what she wanted did something in me. I suddenly became aware that deep down I had the same longing. I too wanted to hug our family members. I wanted to reach out and embrace my mom and dad. And the fact that I couldn't do that made me cry too. So my daughter and I cried together for a while, sharing our common desire to hug our family members.

Later, I had a conversation with Jesus, where I shared my present longings with him. Because I had witnessed my daughter's honesty with her desires, I somehow felt more freedom to acknowledge and name my own desires with Jesus. 

It can be scary to take an honest look at what we want. We might discover unmet desires and unacknowledged disappointment. Perhaps it seems safer to ignore or dismiss our deepest longings.

But what if God himself deposited your deepest desires into you? What if he designed you to know him more intimately in those desires?

If we withhold our deepest desires from God, we will keep him at a distance. We will miss out on the opportunity for God to meet us in those desires. If, however, we allow ourselves to acknowledge what we most deeply want, then we get more in touch with our soul. And in that place, we are free to deeply, intimately connect with God and receive from him.

I wonder if we can learn from my daughter, and freely bring to Jesus what we most deeply want. Can we come to God with a childlike posture, and be honest and vulnerable and bold?

Who knows? Maybe the things you most deeply want are the very same things God most deeply wants for you.

Prayer:

Jesus, thank you for inviting us to come to you as little children. Thank you that in your presence we can freely bring our honest, unfiltered longings and desires. Give us the courage to come to you just as we are. Meet us in our desires, and let us know you more intimately. Amen.

An Idea:

Take some time today to reflect on what you most deeply want. Don't edit yourself. Simply journal or list out the things that your soul most deeply longs for. Share those things with God. Listen for anything he wants to say.

Perfect Love (Elijah Yip - May 11, 2020)

Observation, Perspiration or Inspiration: 

As many households see their familiar routines tossed out the window, frustrations are mounting.  School and work are different.  So is family life.  Some tasks take longer, some are harder.  Some can’t even be done.  Things don’t always turn out the way we expect.  How annoying!

Long before the pandemic hit, I realized I’m a perfectionist.  I’m not exactly proud of my perfectionism.  I used to be, but not anymore.  I know perfectionism is a character flaw because I get angry when my tolerance for deviation from my standards is exceeded.  The anger then spreads like a coronavirus spewed from the sneeze of an unmasked carrier less than six feet away.  Last time I checked, anger isn’t part of the fruit of the Spirit. 

My anger index is spiking more than usual these days, and that bothers me.  Clearly, I need to confront my perfectionism and talk to God about why it bugs me so much to have my expectations violated.

One question I ask God is, what’s wrong with wanting to do things well?  My standards are aimed at quality and efficiency, I argue.  Aren’t those honorable aims?  This is basically how the Lord answered me:

You’re right that excellence is a virtue.  It(’s good to do things well.  But why do you get angry when things don’t go the way they should?  And why do you get upset when others muck up your plans to do things a certain way?  Son, your standards are preventing you from loving others and yourself.  You’re playing judge.  Legalism is stealing your peace.

Ouch!  Painful as it might be to admit it, God is right (He always is).  

Here's how I would sum up the problem with perfectionism. 

Perfectionism is the legalistic perversion of excellence.  Excellence is intrinsic to the Kingdom of God, and we should rejoice in it.  It is right to take pleasure in the goodness and beauty of a job well done.  God did just that after each day of Creation.  Genesis 1:1-31.

Perfectionism, by contrast, isn’t about enjoyment.  The focus of perfectionism is compliance with a standard or expectation.  Perfectionism metes out love (or punishment) based on how well one complies.  The perfectionist’s mindset is that people who fall below a standard, including themselves, are [insert your favorite negative adjective], and that spawns disappointment, guilt, and offense.

So what’s the remedy?  I’m still figuring that out, but I know it has something to do with grace.  God is perfect and his works are perfect.  How heart-wrenching it must be for God, then, to see his creations ruined by sin.  Talk about a perfectionist’s nightmare.  God could have rejected us all and sulked.  Instead, he chased after us and redeemed us because of his love.

There it is—love.  That seems to be the key.  Shift the focus from compliance to love.  Love for excellence.  Love for beauty.  Most importantly, love for the only one who is truly perfect.  And if I love God, then I will love what he loves most: You and me.

Prayer:

I love that you are perfect, Father God, and that you designed me like you to crave perfection.  I also want to love perfectly like you do.  I need your help.  Thank you!  In Jesus’ name, Amen. 

An Idea:

Practice the art of enjoyment.  Take time to savor things.  It could be something as simple as a cup of coffee.  Notice its flavor, the way it sloshes around in your mouth.  Appreciate the cup you’re using.  Look at its design.  Think about what went into making it.  Increasing our capacity for enjoyment diminishes our inclination to criticize and complain.

Introverts in Lockdown (Keith Hamasaki - May 8, 2020)

Credit: Randall Munroe (https://xkcd.com/2276/)

For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Keith Hamasaki and my wife Leslie and I are known around Bluewater primarily for one thing: we are extreme introverts. When I say extreme, I mean extreme. If you look at our Myers Briggs E/I lines they look something like this (forgive my poor ASCII art):


 <------------------------------------------>        X   X
 Extrovert                          Introvert        Me  Leslie

It’s still not entirely clear how we managed to start a conversation, let alone get married, but here we are! So what is it like, for someone who is not just your ordinary run-of-the-mill introvert but a true, dyed-in-the-wool introvert, when everyone is forced to stay home and nearly all face to face social interaction has ceased?

Before I answer that question, it might help to give you a little context. If I’m being honest, the Christian life can often be difficult for people like me. So much of the life of faith is centered around relationships. We meet on Sunday mornings for worship. We meet again with our ʻohana groups during the week. If we are trying to faithfully live out our calling we find a ministry to serve in, which often involves more meetings, and depending on the ministry, talking to people who may be complete strangers. We are encouraged to share our faith with our co-workers, pray for people (out loud!), prophesy over them, and lay our hands on them to heal them. This is asking a lot of a normal person, but for someone who craves solitude it can all feel a bit overwhelming.

Given all of this, I’d be lying if I told you that our mode of living for the past month and a half hasn’t had its perks for me. I get to stay home all day, absent any social obligations, particularly those that might require me to engage in activities that are both uncomfortable and draining. I get to spend extra time with my family, while still having enough time for myself. I can still communicate with people, but in a way that is more comfortable for me, which often means written words rather than spoken ones.

But at the same time, I recognize that something is missing. I’ve spent some time here detailing how the life of faith can be difficult for me due to my personality, but I understand that it can be difficult for other people for many other reasons. Maybe they are natural skeptics and have a hard time believing in something they cannot see. Maybe they have been betrayed in the past by someone who claimed to follow Jesus. Maybe they worry what people will think of them, or that their family will disown them. There are any number of obstacles that we all face in living this life. If it were easy, Jesus wouldn’t have likened it to carrying a cross. But it is always, always, worth it, because the rewards that come from a life of faith are far greater than any obstacles that we have to overcome to live it.

For me, that has meant that living a life in community has always been worth the struggle it has taken. Leslie and I are often reluctant to attend yet another ʻohana group meeting, but we are almost always glad that we went. When I think of what my life would be like without our ʻohana group, I sense the hole that it would leave behind. Many of the most beautiful moments of my life have come when I have stepped out of my comfort zone to reach out to someone with an offer of prayer or even just friendship. After all, experiencing breakthrough in an area that is a struggle is far more rewarding than simply applying ourselves to something we are already proficient at.

The danger for me these past weeks has been that my tendency toward solitude would cut me off from the benefits of a life of community. During normal times I rely on the structure of Christian ritual to keep my relationships going, and absent that it is very easy for me to withdraw inward and ignore the rest of the world. But I know that in doing so I would be missing out on a great deal of richness and blessing, so I try, poorly at times, but as best as I can, to stay connected.

 

Prayer:

Jesus, I am so thankful for the community that you have blessed me with. Give me the strength to fight against the desire for comfort at the expense of relationship. Give me a heart that longs to connect with the beautiful and wonderful people that you have put in my life.

An Idea:

If you are not a member of an ʻohana group, join one! Groups are still meeting virtually during the lockdown. Perhaps you have found them to be unrewarding in the past. Keep an open mind, and keep trying. The rewards are worth the effort.

What to Do with Heartbreak (Sonya Seng - May 6, 2020)

(Vlog music by Bensound)

Observation, Perspiration or Inspiration: 

An unexpected opportunity for me during this virus lockdown has been time and inclination to travel down memory lane via old photos, videos, dream notes and prayer journals. As I mentioned in my last blog post, and perhaps because I'm normally a busy busy bee, this reflective season blindsided me with some deep and uncomfortable feelings. So today I'm going to talk about the pain of rejection. The anger at dismissive behavior toward a deep posture of grace. The fatigue of patient pursuit. My achy breaky heart.

And, as I am beginning to understand, God's achy breaky heart. Toward us.

See, one area where Jordan and I have been blessed in abundance is in the area of relationships. Likewise, one area where Jordan and I have been pained in abundance is in the area of relationships. Same for you?

Since becoming a Jesus follower as a pre-teen, I have walked out His commitment to be "pro-people" regardless of differences or what they seem to offer me personally. And ever since college, Jordan and I have made it our mission to live invitationally toward people. We've dramatically shaped our lives in order to reach out our hands to others in the way we think Jesus would. We've not been perfect in this. Sometimes downright awkward or dumb. But we've tried. And after 40 years of this, I see the fruit is good. Mostly. Our friendship memories shimmer with glorious breadth, profound levels of intimacy and fascinating geographical richness. Still my survey also triggered a shuddering, shameful tally of gut-tweaking relational losses.

This tally, perhaps unfairly, includes people with whom I once walked closely but who are simply, and without any intentional malice, no longer close.  But I feel the cost of my sincere attention and the consistent will power it took to build those friendships. I didn't expect them to be so temporal. And while I used to spend my relational resources quite wildly, I notice that I've become a bit more conservative and strategic with them as years and age have thinned them out.

Other situations are the more expected type of "break up" where, after an exciting start and many hilarious, bonding adventures, something soured. And now those colorful memories carry a bitter after taste, and usually with an echo of accusation or judgement expressed while the relationship cooled.

I was in anguished prayer about this to the Lord for a few days, particularly because I recalled the scriptural admonition to “be tender-hearted one to another”. How, Lord? Once you’ve managed the “agree to disagree” or the “I’m sorry that you felt x when I did y”, what then? Because essential forgiveness yields essential “letting off the hook” but doesn’t automatically restore trust or allow unarmed friendliness.

My years of intentionally loving and being loved have taught me that full resolution for our hearts won’t come until judgement day. And judgement day isn't just meanly punitive.  No, it will be air-clearing in the final and life-bringing sense. While I used to fear that idea, now, with humility, I look forward to it. Like the weird scene in Revelations, I identify a little with the souls of the martyrs calling out from under God’s throne, “how long, Lord, til our blood is avenged?” We’ve all had blood in this game.  Even God himself. In Revelations, there's this stunning moment when not a soul can be found to release the final and needed judgements... until one who looks like a "lamb who has been slain" steps forward.  Apparently, only the biggest loser, Jesus himself,  has the appropriate righteousness and mercy to finally settle everyone's score. Your score, my score and the natural earth too.

When is that all going to go down? I don't know. There are wars and rumors of wars happening and global disease and economic distress. Jesus called these "birth pangs" for the end. But apparently we've got some time. Today, at least.

So, in this very important meantime, how do we love one another? How do we not tap out? And keep productively and fruitfully loving -in-patience? How do we continue to lose blood?

I do not have a how-to answer. I am personally on empty here. But what I do have is this.
I’ve begun to perceive that in my floundering, the Creator God is allowing me to identify with Him.  Because there is no one who has faced more rejection, dismissal and offense than He has.

The prophet Isaiah, around 700 BC, describes the sad heart of God in His relational woes:

I revealed myself to those who did not ask for me; I was found by those who did not seek me. To a nation that did not call on my name, I said, ‘Here am I, here am I.’ All day long I have held out my hands to an obstinate people, who walk in ways not good, pursuing their own imaginations— a people who continually provoke me to my very face, offering sacrifices in gardens and burning incense on altars of brick. (Isaiah 65:1-3)

I hear in this God's frustration, amazement and even loneliness, “You were uninterested when I showed up in your life. You didn't return my calls even though I kept texting, I'm here, I'm here. The fact that you "found" me had nothing to do with you and everything to do with my activity.  I put myself out there over and over, making all my goodness fully available to you. And then, to my face, you got your jollies elsewhere."  Ugh. It makes me so sad for God.

Then, two thousand years ago, the apostle John wrote with stinging similarity about the reception Jesus got in the world he died for: “though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him. He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him.” Here was the fullness of God the Creator in bodily form, on an unthinkably sacrificial mercy mission, and he got the hand. No worse, he got the finger, betrayal and bloody nails.

Love has been horribly fumbled.

Like a broken marriage, the go-to Biblical metaphor for God's distress... and I think, our own. The holy husband wrings His hands while the love of His life splurges her affections on pimps posing as princes.

Both men and women relate to this Divine helplessness: housewives feel plundered when their husbands find them less interesting than a business deal or a fascinating colleague. Hardworking men likewise bleed secretly from the switchblade of disrespect; getting passed over at work or enduring idiocy and boredom for the sake of responsible stability.  In any case, we can all agree: it’s crushing to feel short-changed where we’ve poured out our hearts.

And yet we are “cool” toward God, the most Singular Being who initiates Life, Love and Power. There never has, never will be One more worthy of our hot and constant affection. Not just during the "dating phase" or when life is kicking our asses so we restart our church attendance.

But we (and I) can’t seem to pull it off the long and steady love life we were made for.  We're atrociously self-centered. We're like teens eye-rolling at Mom’s kisses, ignorant of her tender pain and terror that first labored us into oxygen. We shout down the outdated Wisdom who put skin on our skeleton: “Later. I have a headache. You’re not easy to understand. I can do this myself. Tell me something I don’t know. I’ll be back right after I get this cool thing done. I need my space. I’m giving You 2 hours a week! What the -  the internet is down again?”

Geez. I apparently can’t even keep the human relationships flourishing. And, as scripture says, if ya’ can’t love the peeps you can see, how you gonna love the One ya can’t see, eh? Crap. So, sorry to confess that I am still grappling with how I feel hurt in life.  But I see better that I'm not the innocent center of this Korean soap opera.  I’ve doled out my share of pain. We all have. There is only One who has loved so faithfully.

As I said, it will all come out in the wash, eventually. The Good Judgement Day will explain all to the last Divine regret, and last human stubbornness.

So, here's a final thought: have we each been allowed to experience relational failures and helplessness just so we can appreciate the God's eternal heart toward us? And more humbly welcome it?

Prayer:

God, though You are perfect in character and affection, You live with a broken heart. And for thousands of years, You have not stopped holding out Your hands to us. For 53 years, You haven’t stopped holding out Your hands to me. 

When will I respond faithfully to Your love? 

We all have failed, toward one another and toward You.  

Please send us the promise of Your Holy Spirit again, and create in us the pure love which, apparently, we are damned incapable of either generating or sustaining.  

You promised millennia ago:  “And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh.”  (Ezekiel 11)

Do it, Lord, please. Help us walk with tenderness through the years to come, both toward You and toward one another.

Amen.

An Idea:

Is there one friend toward whom you have been "putting off" initiating an act of kindness, tenderness or respect? Make that tangible, concrete action today.

Make one tangible, concrete act to demonstrate to God that He has your time and attention.

A Full-Service Kind of Savior

Observation, Perspiration or Inspiration: 

I was carrying my surfboard across the sand, hair whipping my eyes, feet dragging. I have been feeling down, mildly depressed, and I was on a quest to do the opposite of what every cell in my body was telling me to do—eat, sleep, and be merry at home under the covers.

As I trudged to the waters’ edge, I said to myself, “Salty seawater, save me!”

It was silly, I know. But in the moment I felt desperate. I needed something to break through the terrible fog in my head and help me return to feeling....normal.

As soon as the words left my lips, a scripture came to mind—Acts 4:12, Salvation is found in no one else.

As I asked the seawater to save me, something bubbled up from inside that said, “Nope, I need Jesus to save me.” I need Him to save me in this moment, from this malaise.

Sometimes I forget that “saving” is kind of his job description. I try to save myself in a million little ways. I do a pretty good job at the self-help and self-care. But it will never be enough.

God is longing to step into my every day. In the most random moments, in the smallest of needs, in the biggest of needs, he is an all-encompassing, full-service kind of Savior.

And I need saving every day.

I need saving from my selfish, black heart. I need saving from my depression. I need saving from my impatience with family members. I, it turns out, have so many needs. And there is one true source for all of it.

If you find yourself feeling a little lost today—in any way—do the healthy things you know to do, take good care of yourself, get outdoors if you can. But remember, that there is only one wellspring that never runs dry, and our hearts will keep longing and keep needing until we turn to him.

Prayer:

God, you are in all and through all things, even this time at home. Help me to remove the limitations I have placed on you and make you Lord of everything. Show me today how you want to work in even the little details of my life.

Idea:

What do you currently need saving from? What thing in your life is causing you the most grief? Have you limited God's ability and willingness to save you in this area of life? If so, take a moment to give it over to him and ask for his saving grace to step in.