A Rough, Blessed Week

This week has been really hard.  I've been plagued with feelings of isolation, ineffectiveness, and heartbreak.*

And yet - 

• I've been the recipient of unsolicited encouragement emails from friends back home.
• Two of my Chinese friend have gone FAR out of their way to explain to me - at great length - exactly how I've impacted their lives.
• I threw out my pain into an anonymous FB-group I love. (DFTBA)  After a couple of hours I had some truly insightful and kind words of encouragement from strangers in Glasgow, Florida, Ohio, Norway, and Australia.

I feel incredibly blessed that God has responded to each struggle this week in such direct, specific ways. It's like finding a buoy in open water when I'm exhausted.  Isn't that wonderful?

A few kind, insightful words from a stranger on the internet that I turned into a sign for my wall.

*Finals are also looming, so grading, preparation, and skyrocketing stress are all working to tie my shoulders in knots.

What I'm Listening To

It's time to bring out the Christmas music, which for me, includes Sting's Christmas album.  Yes, Sting has a Christmas album, and yes, I love it!  This isn't really a Christmas song, but it's definitely winter music.  It has the right feeling for me right now.

"The Snow It Melts The Soonest"

Oh, the snow it melts the soonest when the winds begin to sing,

And the corn it ripens fastest when the frost is settling in,

And when a woman tells me my face she'll soon forget,

Before we'll part, I'll wage a croon, she's fain to follow't yet.

Oh, the snow it melts the soonest when the winds begin to sing,

And the swallow skims without a thought as long as it is spring;

But when spring goes, and winter blows, my lassie you'll be fain,

For all your pride, to follow me across the stormy main.

Oh, the snow it melts the soonest when the winds begin to sing,

And the bee that flew when summer shone, in winter cannot sting;

I've seen a woman's anger melt betwixt the night and morn,

Oh it's surely not a harder thing to tame a woman's scorn.

Oh, never say me farewell here, no farewell I'll receive,

And you shall set me to the stile and kiss and take your leave;

I'll stay until the curlew calls and the martlet takes his wing,

Oh, the snow it melts the soonest when the winds begin to sing.

Day 27: Threads

The month of November has been illuminating on a number of levels.  God has been spinning new threads of thought in constantly in my mind, each of different color, texture and weight.  Often, God teaches me by planting a stubborn question in my mind, or an idea, or by giving me a heightened awareness about a particular topic.*  I start to see or hear that topic everywhere, in music, in meetings, in scripture, in my friends' brain ramblings.  Usually the theme of focus is distinct and singular, one per season, maybe two if God's doing something crazy.  This month has been different.  God's been teaching and motivating me in several different areas that seem independent of each other, and try as I might I can't quite see how all the threads weave together.  It's like playing dot-to-dot without the numbers.

These are a few of the themes that have been growing in my lately:

• Specifically Designed for a Purpose (Original, right?)
• Doing "Single" Well
• Singles in the Church
• Brazil
• Hands-Off
• The Virgin Mary: Blessed and Limited

Many of these topics have intentionally misleading titles, as I intend to describe each one individually and in depth.  Oh, I can just feel the anticipation rising!  Some of these ideas are linked, but like I said earlier, others seem removed or disconnected.  Expect to see more ponderings on that in the upcoming weeks.

*I'm probably not alone in that. =)

Most Terrifying Moment in China

WARNING: THIS POST IS NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART OR WEAK OF STOMACH

Over the last year, I've had the opportunity to be in and out of Chinese hospitals multiple times, sometimes as the patient, and sometimes as the friend/PR specialist.  My experience has taught me that NOTHING illuminates the differences between cultures like hospitalization, but that is a subject for a different post.  The most pertinent differences are these:

1. Americans don't go to the hospital unless they're absolutely falling apart.  They try to solve the problem on their own via over-the counter drugs.  A Chinese person will go to the hospital for an IV drip if they have a cold.  Even if the illness is mild, they'll ask a doctor what to do.  I've heard several Chinese doctors say that Americans are weak, fragile people, probably because they rarely see an American who is mildly sick.*
2. American doctors explain procedures and medicines before doing or giving them to you.  Chinese doctors expect you to trust their advice without many questions (like ingredients or side effects).  Lower level doctors (there's a ranking system here) are easily offended if you ask too many questions.
3. Because Americans only go to hospitals when they're really sick, doctors are gentle, testing pain tolerance by degrees.  I have seen multiple Chinese doctors quickly and firmly jab or poke a sore/infected/aching friend right after the person said, 'It hurts here.'

Though my experience IN a Chinese hospital has often been unpleasant, the treatment is amazingly effective and incredibly fast.  So when I started having trouble last week, I thought, "Well, try it the Chinese way and go to the hospital before it gets really bad."

[SPOILER ALERT - Involves pus]

I've alway had issues with my feet.  It's one of my loveliest nuances.  When I was about 10, I started having trouble with my toenails.  My nurse mother and older sister went to task, and I learned how to soak my feet in scalding hot salt water, "As hot as you can stand it," my mom would say.  There's this thing that comes over my mom and my sister when someone has something that needs to be poked, plucked, popped, scraped, or (heaven forbid) lanced.  An impenetrable resolve settles in their face, and you know that no matter how much you avoid, plead, or flee, they will find you, the light of a single flame glinting in their eye as they sterilize The Needle of Astonishing Pain.

The problem with feet is that you stand on them every day.  It took quite a while to heal and learn hygiene habit necessary for my picky feet.  The pain was excruciating, even more so when it was time to clean and treat them.  It was all I could do to refrain from kicking my mother in the face as she "released the pressure" in my infected toes and pus poured out.**  I struggled to wrap my mind around how my mother could cause me so much pain, so she explained it to me.

"Emily, if you don't take care of it now, the nail will grow into the skin and I won't be able to fix it.  We'll have to take you to the doctor, and do you know what he'll do?  He'll cut the skin here, slice through the nail and pull it out.  Do you want to have surgery and have the doctor cut through your sore toe?"

Typically, that speech was enough for me to plunge my foot in the scalding hot salt water or to let her finding lancing (shudder) and bandaging my foot.

Dearest mother, I took these lessons deep into my heart.  Apparently.

My feet have been picky for the past few weeks.  I pampered them for a while, then finally gave myself a saltwater pedicure, as hot as I could stand it.  Then the pus made its debut, no lancing required.  I wasn't sure if Neosporin was the answer to my toe-woes, and I have very little of it, so I decided to put on my Chinese hat and go to the doctor before it got bad.

The next day I called Nelly, a dearly beloved friend who was one of my students last year.  She's a nursing student, so I knew I could count on her not to be squeamish.  We trudged on down to the clinic on campus in search of a miracle Chinese toe-salve, while I reassured her that it was a small pain, and my feet weren't in danger of falling off.  After a ten minute wait, I got to bare my stinky feet in front of about 15 people so I could should the doctor exactly where the pus was coming out.***  Instead of giving me medicine, the doctor decided to pull me aside to a private room so he could clean and bandage them himself.

He was a confident, unassuming man, and Nelly trusted him, so I had no problem as he glazed my big toes with long streams of iodine.  I was chatting pleasantly with Nelly when the doctor turned around and pressed the blade of a short pair of scissors against the swollen skin of my infected toe. I jumped back immediately as all my childhood memories flooding back.  'Do you know what he'll do?  He'll cut the skin here, slice through the nail and pull it out...'

The doctor looked surprised, pointed, said something and tried again.  Knowing that Chinese doctors tend to work swiftly and painfully, I whirled around to Nelly pointed at the threatening blades and said "Why this??" in my very best, most direct Chinglish.  She said, "The doctor says it's okay."

It's okay?  WHAT is okay?  There's no extra skin to trim!  Do I get something for pain?  Americans may be "weak" but pain killers are reasonable right now.  I wasn't ready for this!  I do not approve, nope nope, this is not okay, this is NOT okay, THIS IS NOT OKAY!!

Nelly:  "He says he has to cut it."

Me:  "The nail?"

Nelly:  "Um, that part."

Me:  "The skin, or the other part?"

Nelly:  "He needs to cut it.  It will be okay."

At that point, I had zero assurance that the man in front of me would not indeed clip the offending flesh off the end of my toe.  Fear coursed through each vein as he buried the cold metal into the aching flesh and sliced off -- my toenail.

Every muscle in my body relaxed as I collapsed on top of my knee.  Then I noticed the twinkle in the doctor's eye, but he was far too professional to laugh at the crazy foreigner who had a panic attack at the sight of toenail clippers.  I, however, had no problem laughing at my own absurdity, as I explained to Nelly how my mother used to tell me that the doctor would cut out my toenail.  When she translated what I said, the doctor smiled and spoke one sentence.

Me:  "What did he say?"

Nelly:  "He said, 'Your mother is a nurse.'"

Yes.  Yes she is.

I have had a lot of adventure in Asia.  I've been lost on the streets of Bangkok until midnight.  I've slid down the side of a mountain, grabbing onto tree roots as my feet flip out over the side of a cliff.  I've had to swim 45 minutes against a current to travel only 100 feet to a dock.  I've been followed by strangers for several blocks.  But hands down, no questions asked, beyond a shadow of a doubt I can say with 100% certainty that the MOST TERRIFYING experience I've ever had in Asia was getting my toenails clipped.

*Conversely, the Americans tend to think that Chinese people go to the hospital too easily.  That makes Americans sound cold, but in real life, well, it's hard not to roll your eyes when a girl limps to the clinic propped up by two friends because she has cramps.

**Why my sister opted into this hot action, I will never know.

***Nothing teaches humility like Chinese hospitals.

Singularly Thankful

Say what you want about tryptophan, but it's been about an hour since my turkey-time, and my eyelids are feeling heaaaaaaavy....

Before I call it a night, I wanted to write a Thanksgiving post.  This year at the dinner table, I was the once who instigated the round of "What are you thankful for?" questions.  To my surprise, everyone brightened when I asked.  I expected to see half-laughs and get cheesy answers, but it seemed that people were genuinely glad to fulfill the familiar tradition.

We must have listened to about eight or nine people before someone said, 'Hey, what about you?  What are YOU thankful for?'  Let me tell you - I was ready.

For the past few weeks, God's been talking to me about being single and doing it well.  I don't have too many "Thus sayeth the Lord" type of personal assurances, but He's told me for a fact that I won't be single my whole life.*  There are seas of platitudes about how a single person should feel about and/or respond to their singleness,** but this year, God has been pointing out the incredibly rich blessings I have in being a single woman in my community, and century.***

1. Meeting Human Needs.  Thanks to the feminist movement, I have been enabled to pursue, and

   

   Ironically, I was listening to Beyonce's
   'Single Ladies' when I found this.

   attain a career in a field in which I am capable and happy.  Not only do I have a career, but my career enables me to feed, clothe, and house myself sufficiently without needing the assistance or oversight of a man.  100 years ago, this would not have been possible.  I would be forced to marry in order to secure a roof over my head, otherwise risking utter poverty.  Because I'm free from that fear, I'm freed to carefully select a man that will be good to me.  That is, I can choose a man because I want to, not because I need to.
2. Career Development.  As a single, childless woman, I am not currently building a family.  Because of that, I'm completely free to develop my career however I see fit.  I can throw 100% of my energy into work that I love, and devote my creativity and passion into issues that are important to me.  Besides my work, I have time to devote to hobbies, crafts, problems, and passions.  I have time to ponder philosophy, take college classes because I want to, travel to places that interest me, and get involved in a variety of activities that may take me away from my home.  Any woman can (and I would argue that all women should) pursue these things, but my singleness allows me to do it easily and without guilt, which leads me to the next item.
3. The Women-Wars: I am Switzerland.  There are many women who raise beautiful families.  One day, I hope to be one of them.  In the meantime, my childlessness mercifully exempts me from a wide swath of Women-Wars.  I will not be evaluated by the cleanliness of my house, by my skill as a chef, or by my children's manners.****  When I use my smartphone in public, no one immediately assumes that I ignore the fleeting charm of my two-year-old's chocolate-smeared face.  I am not criticized for buying myself a new shirt.  If I'm fat, I'm not criticized for setting a bad example, and if I'm fit, I'm not criticized for choosing vanity over children.  I pray for and work toward a day where no woman has to face that kind of criticism.  Until then, I'll suffer pitying looks from other women and breathe a sigh of relief when they ignore me completely in order to explain to a young mom how the non-organic formula she's feeding her baby WILL in fact cause irreparable brain damage.
4. Experience is the best teacher; vicarious experience is a kinder teacher.  Many of my peers enjoy non-singleness.  Somedays it's hard to watch; on other days it's dazzling!  Regardless of my reaction to what I see, the fact is, I see it.  I've seen a myriad of approaches and responses to things I haven't experienced yet: weddings, in-laws, miscarriages, run aways, house-buying, emergencies, children with special needs, post-honeymoon marriage, enduring and fading love.  I've been blessed to learn from the successes and failures of the people around me.  There's no way to avoid life's troubles, but according to my experience as a student, it's much easier to pass a test if you study first.
5. Societal Expectations.  When discussing potential spouses, the dominant feedback from my community is, "Take your time, and choose carefully."  What a blessing!  Some may fear that I'm lonely, but the overriding message from my friends and family is that the quality of person I choose is far more important than my marriage age.  I expected this in my early twenties, but those years are gone.  Even so, I hear "Consider well, evaluate carefully, be wise, don't worry, ask God..."  Many of my peers aren't as fortunate as I am.  Their families push them toward men who are marginally interested or emotionally removed, because ANY man is better than NO man.  No voice of influence in my life holds that opinion, and I am thankful for it!

There are many days that I resent my state of singleness, but this week I full of gratefulness and thanks for all of the truly unique and wonderful blessings that come with this season of life.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Not my sister's potatoes or my dad's turkey,
but I didn't completely suffer this Thanksgiving.

*To those of you who laughed, remember that marriage isn't a guarantee, or right.  People live healthy, happy, marriage-free lives every day.  I've wondered before if that was God's plan for me, so I asked Him about it so could embrace it completely.  But He's told me clearly that's not the plan.
**Most of these platitudes come from wonderful married people who haven't been single since their early twenties.  I often wonder what makes them an expert in singleness, given their comparative inexperience.
***Some of these things apply to single men as well, but many of them are specific to the empowerment of Western women that has only developed in the last 100 years.
****For some reason, people often assume that single woman can't, won't, or don't have time to cook.  This is utterly ridiculous and laughable - we have more time to cook than ANYBODY!  But because they don't cook for a whole family, people don't have high expectations of single ladies.  Low expectations are so easy to blow out of the water...

Day 17: Researched Whelmed

I've often heard and repeated the joke about being 'whelmed.'  If a person can be overwhelmed, and underwhelmed, then why can't someone just be whelmed?  The joke of course is that 'whelmed isn't a real word.*  And what would it mean anyways?

My search for work has led me to the definition of what it means to be 'whelmed.'  I know there are scads of opportunities for work out in the world, and that much of it can be discovered with a few clicks on my computer.  But how do I know if I'm viewing credible schools?  Maybe I've just discovered a good website.  How do I know if the country is a place I could spend a large chunk of time.  Do I guess?  Ideally I'd visit each place, but I don't have extracurricular funds for wise ventures like that.  I can do a ton of research, which could easily make me feel overwhelmed, but I can easily get frustrated, or underwhelmed, by the information that's missing from the websites of individual schools.  So here we get at the definition of whelmed: the knowledge that the resources you need exist, but you lack the information or experience needed to procure them.

I'm headed into the third week of my prayer month, and I feel like God is pointing me in toward one or two open doors, but I haven't yet diligently pursued other options.  I think God uses open doors as guides, but I don't want to lazily take the path of least resistance.  I don't want the echoes of 'What if...'  to follow me to my next job.  I want to sink my teeth into my next job, and I can't do that if there's a language barrier.  If I choose another international position, I'll have to invest time and effort into learning the language.**  Tonight I started researching individual schools in a few Eastern European countries, but I think I was getting the cart before the horse.

Here's the new plan:

1. Listen to a news reel in the country's indigenous language.
2. Listen to traditional music.
3. Learn about the country's history, read its news, and find out what's trending socially.

THE NEWS REEL.  When I first arrived in China, I had a difficult time adjusting to the sound of spoken Chinese.  I find it rather gutteral and accusatory.  My apologies if it's your native language, or if you find it entrancing.  My opinion is merely an opinion, and that's how it lands in my ears.  As a musician, it's difficult to be constantly surrounded by sounds that seem harsh and unyielding.  My current plan is really helpful because I associate the sound of the language with the country as I read about it.

TRADITIONAL MUSIC.  I was a musician before I became a teacher.  There are some parts of Chinese music that really appeal to me, and there are other forms of music that are difficult for me to engage with/reconcile to/understand/enjoy/tolerate - take your pic of descriptor as you listen to Exhibit A. (This piece is actually pretty easy to get into.)

HISTORY, NEWS, AND TRENDS.  I think these topics are pretty self explanatory.  Sometimes I find myself woefully ignorant about basic information, like current politicians, names of provinces and territories, and common expectations of foreigners.  I need to know the basics before I enter into another country long-term.

So far, this process has taught me that Albanian is too angular for me to listen to for more than a few minutes, and Georgian music sounds like Argentinian Folk sung in Arabic.  Not bad for a couple hours of internet time.***

• Please pray that I only give community input its due amount of import.  My goal this month is to listen for God's guidance, not the crowd's.  I need discernment.
• Please pray for health.  I got a hit of food poisoning this morning. That's never fun.
• Please pray that people will step up as prayer partners over the Thanksgiving holiday.
• Please pray for creative direction and possibilities, for the merging of ideas, and release of desire for things that aren't a part of the best design.  I enough ideas and inspirations for a hundred lifetimes, and sometimes that can be counterproductive to decision making.
• Please pray that the students I am supposed to teach will take a prominent position in my heart as I look ahead.

And health and health and health....food poisoning is just the worst thing created.  Ever.****

*Just kidding, it is.  I noticed my spellcheck wasn't angry, so I looked it up.  Apparently it's a verb that means 'to wheel around' or 'to wheedle out.'  And now you know the rest of the story.

**Thanks to a couple of blunt and discouraging teachers, I have an aversion toward learning languages.  One told me that I couldn't understand my classmate's appreciation for their native cultures, and another actually described my French as 'atrocious' and 'sterile.'  Now that I can evaluate these people through my teacher-lens, I can see that they themselves weren't very good teachers.  Even so, I have very little confidence when it comes to acquiring new languages.  I'm not accustomed to lacking confidence.  I don't handle it very well.

***I have further decided that the internet is a magical place that reveals the secrets of the universe.  Seriously, it's amazing that it can all fit into a cellphone.

****Besides heartbreak.

Cicadas, Part II

I was first greeted with the gentle ROARS of summer cicadas soon after I arrived in China last year.  As a native of the American Pacific Northwest, I had no exposure to the purr of these giant insects that sounded like they could chew your fingers off.  This post describes my first impressions of them, and some lessons I learned from them.  During my second week in China, I was grocery shopping with a student in a huge store.  As we passed the jade-jewelry counter I saw a carved bug, a cicada, the crunchy creature responsible for the inescapable cacophony outside.  I asked her, "Why this...?" and she laughed.  She said it was because of the proverb: 'You will sing again.'  Cicadas die off when the weather gets cold, but they always return in full voice when their time comes.

In this past year, I've experienced a lifetime worth of adventures.  I've climbed mountains, gotten lost in foreign cities (at night), sang for rich and powerful men and women, and counted stars with strangers from distant lands.  I've watched clouds pour into a volcanic crater and released paper lanterns into the crisp, winter night.  All of these wonders contrast sharply with the struggle of the past few months.

In my last post, I mentioned I had a significant loss at the end of August.  I was overwhelmed, lost, and feeling the pressure of preparing to move to another country.  Nothing could distract my feelings, but I had to find a way to function.  I filled my days with stories – TV and movies played while I packed, and I read before going to sleep.  I went to bed early, and I got up late, whispering to myself, “Don’t think about it, it didn’t happen, don’t think, don’t think, don’t think…”

One night I woke up groggy, which is pretty unusual for me.*  I’m not a perky, early-riser, but I always wake up with a clear mind.  I know where I am, what day it is, and how many times I’ve hit ‘snooze.’  That night, I woke up fuzzy, and I didn’t like it.  I turned over once or twice, and couldn’t go back to sleep.  (Which is also really unusual for me.)  It was 2am, and everyone was asleep.  It was too late to get up and do late night chores, and too early to call and early morning.  I kept remembering verses about studying scripture by night, but that book is awfully big.  ‘Where would I even start?’ I wondered.  Jeremiah 29.  BAM.  There it was, out of nowhere.  Jeremiah 29.  The reference carried no special meaning to me, I didn’t associate it with any particular passage.  Jeremiah 29.  “It doesn’t work that way,” I thought.  “Jeremiah is in my mind because my friend mentioned it the other day, and 29 is an arbitrary number that I saw on TV, or written on a box somewhere.”  I’m stubborn, and I don't think the open-the-Bible-and-find-your-future approach is a very effective form of Bible study.  So there I lay.  Resisting.  Stubbornly.  For two hours.  Two hours of tears, and dark silence, as the pain in my heart tried to claw its way out of my chest.

"FINE."  I said finally as I whipped back my covers and thumped my Bible down angrily on the bed beside me.  Jeremiah 29 is a message from God to the Israelites as they are being led off into exile.  As they go, He told them this:

"Build houses, settle down; plant gardens and eat what they produce; marry and have sons and daughters...you must increase there and not decrease.  Work for the good of the city to which I have exiled you; pray to Yahweh on its behalf, since on its welfare yours depends.  For Yahweh Sabaoth, the God of Israel, says this: Do not be deceived by the prophets who are with your or by your diviners; do not listen to the dreams you have, since they prophesy lies to you in my name.  I have not sent them, Yahweh declares.  For Yahweh says this: When the seventy years granted to Babylon are over, I shall intervene on your behalf and fulfill my favorable promise to you by bringing you back to this place."

[And then everyone's favorite verse, featured on Thomas Kinkade paintings

and thousands of cross-stich pillows:]

"For I know what plans I have in mind for you, Yahweh declares, plans for peace, not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope."

[End cross-stitch quote, add some flowers.] 

When you call to me and come and pray to me, I shall listen to you.  When you search for me, you will find me; when you search wholeheartedly for me, I shall let you find me...I will gather you in from all the nations and wherever I have driven you. Yahweh declares.  I shall bring you back to the place from which I exiled you."

 I was surprised to have landed on the familiar passage, but what moved me to tears were the verses preceding it: "When the seventy years granted to Babylon are over, I shall intervene on your behalf and fulfill my favorable promise to you by bringing you back to this place."  Restoration, coming back to the place I love, all my ragged edges soothed.

I'm fully aware that this passage was NOT written for me.  I don't think God has exiled me to China, and I don't think He's telling me to marry someone here, or that I'll be here for seventy years.  Like the Israelites, I've been taken from something I loved, and all my hopes, dreams, and wishes can't bring it back to me.  I exiled from that place, and I need to love the stage I'm in.  When the time is full and ripe (a symbolic 70 years) God will restore me to my place.

This promise has been encouraging, confusing, uplifting, and frustrating.  I want to DO something to get out of this stage I'm in, not LOVE IT.  I'm glad God will restore me, but sometimes I still want an explanation about why it was necessary in the first place.  As I've mulled over this passage for the past few months, a few things have become clear:

• I have to work for the betterment of the world I'm in.  That includes my community, my school, and the life-space I'm in.
• Romance is not waiting just around the corner...
• ...but that will change someday.
• When the time is right, God will orchestrate my restoration, not me.

When I first learned the proverb about the cicada, I had a feeling it would be significant to me, but I wasn't sure how.  Now I know: this is a season of quiet for my heart.  I don't want it to be this way, but having it clarified helps me put that topic on the back burner.  Someday I'll be restored.  To that person?  Maybe.  Maybe not.  What I know for certain is that there is a defined plan for this need.

This fall, every roaring wave of insect sounds landed with a splash of promise.  There's a plan; it's going to happen; God is on it.  After months of focused hunting and deliberation, I found my most personal memento of my time here in China: a carved jade cicada.  When the summer cicadas sang, I said, 'God, I hear that promise, and I'll remember it.'  Now winter is approaching.  Every day I wear my cicada and think, 'God, it's a quiet season, but I still remember what You said.'  For now, I throw myself into my work and my community, trying to learn how to live a full, honorable life in this place.

*I can count on both hands how many times I’ve felt confused upon waking.

A Brief Request

This past week has been crazy busy and fun!  I've been running on minimal sleep, but endless energy.  I can only rationalize that I feel as well as I do because of all the support coming my way from home.

I have a lot to say about this week, but no time to write as of yet!  I do have a particular request though:

Please pray for my heart on November 12th.

I've been feeling very....whole lately, but that day is going to be particularly tough on me.  Please pray that God will direct my thoughts and focus where He wants them.

I will write a full update as soon as I'm able!

Day 3: Singleness and a Divinely Directive Foghorn

This weekend marks the end of Culture Week*, and the beginning of my prayer month.

I felt incredibly blessed as I received email after email of people pledging to pray with me.  It was really interesting to see who responded, and how quickly they responded.  I was constantly writing, 'Thank you for praying with me,' 'I'm so touched that you're doing this with me,' and I meant it every time.  I've often thought that my church-family is well spread out now, but I've never called on them en masse before.  From Portland Foursquare, to NCCS, to George Fox, to Resonate, not to mention my family, which often functions like a church in it of itself.  Thank you to all who are praying - thank you young moms who already have your hands full.  Thank you church family that helped raise me, and haven't forgotten me.  Thank you friends from high school, spread around the US who are making time to pray for me, even though our paths no longer cross.  Thank you friends from college, church, old friends, and new friends - I am incredibly blessed to have you on my side.

I was excited to enter into this time of prayer whole-heartedly.  Then - BAM!  I was hit with 3 days of persistent, dull headaches, and defeating struggle with the grief I feel.  In the past, anytime I dedicate a time of prayer to God, He guides my focus to a completely different area of life that He wants me to address.  I need to focus on my next move, but I have to do it with the life-premises that God's directing me toward.

The theme that's been developing over the last several months is "How can I live out 'Singleness' well?"  It's an awkward topic, filled with bitterness, insipid and inane platitudes, false declarations, and a whole lot of deprecation.  There's a lot of talk about how to endure it, how to move past it, and how NOT to do it, but there's very little real teaching on how to live as a single person well.  I feel like this is the lens through which I'll plan my next step.  'How are these two ideas related?' you may ask.  I have no idea.  But it's only day 3 out of 30.

Thank you again to all of you who have prayed for me this past week, and all who are joining me next week.Two work opportunities are currently dominating my thoughts.  I don't know if God's giving me options, or if they reflect things I selfishly want for myself.  Maybe neither, maybe both.

• Please pray that I don't artificially polarize my options by not exploring other possibilities.
• Please pray that I'll kick this lingering headache, and that my grief is proportionate to the amount of time God wants me to focus on it.
• Please pray for discernment over my dreams.  Sometimes my dreams are significant, and sometimes they mess with my head.**
• Please pray that God's voice will be incredibly loud and obnoxiously obvious.  That's exactly what I need right now, a divine fog-horn of direction.
• Please pray for my two dear Chinese friends with whom I've begun Book-study.  Both are very dear to my heart.  It's been ridiculously fun and honoring to see them interact with the Book for the first time, and challenging theologically to adequately explain ideas that I'm very comfortable with.  It's like watching a baby eat whipped cream for the first time, or explaining to a child why someone has a different color of skin.  It's delightful, reminiscent, and you realize that the words you choose aren't informational: they're a formative part of that person's understanding.  It's an amazing thing.
• Please pray for a clear schedule.  I have a lot of research and resume writing to do, and grade, finals, and the holidays are looming.

"I thank my God every time I think of you.  Whenever I pray for all of you I always pray with joy, because you have shared in proclaiming the Good News from the very first day until now."

Philippians 1:3-5

*Culture Week is an extremely stressful time of year for the foreigners at this university.  We're required to represent culture from the WHOLE WORLD with very limited resources and funds.  We all live in the same building, so the atmosphere is really tense.
**For example:  Last night I dreamt about my wedding.  It was at night under an overpass, looking out over a quiet river as the city lights flickered out over the water.  There were few guests, about 75.  I wore a perfect gown.  I remember thinking that it wasn't what I thought I would've picked, but it was perfect, long-sleeved and satin, almost off-the-shoulder, with pink highlights. My hair was simple, long and curled.  I was slender, but not skinny. The music was soothing, the ambiance calm and expectant.  and then he didn't come.  And I walked away from all those spectators dry-eyed.  This isn't the first time I've dreamt about being left at the altar, but it's been years since the last dream.  Maybe it means something.  Maybe it's just a reflection of my pain.  Either way, it nags at my waking hours.

November: A Month of Intercession

This year, I've dedicated the month of November to intercession.

I love teaching.  I believe it's the work God has put before me.  Working abroad has been wonderful, challenging, and life-changing.  Though I feel my time in China is drawing to a close, I don't know if God is pulling me back to the United States or not.  I'm considering many places and options, including Ukraine, Brazil, Oregon, Dubai, and Palestine.  I have many ideas about the changes in store for my life and my career, but I want my decisions to be grounded in God's will and direction.

I believe prayer works, and I believe it works even better in company.  During the month of November, I would love to have a prayer partner every day as I prepare and apply for work around the world.  Please consider joining and supporting me in prayer as I research and prepare for the next leg of my journey!

If you're able to join me, please comment on this post to tell me your name,* and which day you're committed to.  A red 'X' marks days that people are praying.

*All comments are submitted for approval.  For the sake of privacy, names will be removed before the comments are published.

Things I Forgot I Love About China

• The Chinese are the nicest people in the world.  Chinese people are really great at living in large groups.  They avoid conflict like the plague, which means that you never hear, "No offense, but..." or "In my opinion..." and rarely is there a pointed comment.  They also bend over backwards to communicate accurately with you, random strangers extend themselves to help you, and they smile all the time.  It's just so nice!
• Cicadas.  The sound of these insects remind me of promises of restoration, the passing of seasons and hope.  Every time I hear them, I'm encouraged that there is a future ahead.
• Students turning in papers.  (This IS actually specific to China.)  When students turn in papers, they're obsessively neat about it.  They're always face-up, stacked in the same direction.  American students might try throwing their homework in the general area of the turn-in basket.  If you ask, Chinese students will even organize their homework according to their student numbers.  Grading bliss!
• Squattie-potties.  Ergonomically satisfying.  The End.*
• A stranger in a crowd.  There are different kinds of anonymity in your home country and in a foreign country.  In America, I'm no one special, and I blend in without question.  However, anyone at any point in time might start up a conversation.  In China, I'm ALWAYS a novelty, but rarely does anyone initiate a conversation with me.  I can be surrounded on all sides by hundreds of people, and be socially alone.  It's kind of nice in a way.  I'm present and involved in the community, but my thoughts and reflections are free to roam wherever they want.  It's nice.
• My coffee people.  There's a cafe in my building that I frequent often.  The people there are just fantastic, and I consider them personal friends.  They seemed just as excited to see me as I was to see them, even though I've only bought one cup of coffee so far.... Points to me for kicking a habit!
• Common touch.  People are always bumping into one another here.  This was something I absolutely hated when I first got to China, but now I love it.  It says, 'You're one of the crowd, you belong here.'
• Attentive listening.  When a Chinese person is interested in what you're saying.  They lock their eyes on your face and don't hardly move.  They are completely engrossed in your words and try to suck all possible meaning from it.  It's amazingly respectful and refreshing.
• Common sense problem-solving.  "Oh, you want this kind of cell phone case, with that kind of wrap?  Here, I'll glue it together."  ...that fix was way too easy to have occurred to me.
• FOOD.  American food is awesome, but there are some things that will simply never be the same unless you buy it from that one vendor one that one street corner.

*Pun really really intended

A Student Letter

I hate grading.  It's late, I'm exhausted, but I have a stack of about 80 notebooks to review before I'm allowed to sleep.  I just opened the first book and read this:

"Dear Emily,
I'm glad to become your student.  You are so beautiful and lovely.  I like you very much.  I had no confidence before.  But you like a sun and sunshine, let me have a little confidence."

Aww - I'm like sunshine!  How could I resist smiling at that?  Okay, I can do this.  79 to go...

Re-Entry

If ever I take a break from writing, I feel compelled to explain myself when I resume.

On August 26, I flew back to China via LA and Seoul.  Somehow I managed to get over jet-lag within a week, and threw myself into faculty meetings and preparations for the year.  It's amazing how much easier life is this year.  I know where things are, I know how to interact with people I can't talk to, and the culture shock is, well, less shocking.  Surprises are amusing instead of mind-boggling, and I have a better understanding how to balance the expending and recharging of my time and energy.  In addition, I've lost 30 pounds since August!  Sounds like life's been pretty good, right?  Yay for me!

So this is what I've been telling people.  All of it is true.  But that's not what's truly been consuming my energy, thoughts and heart.

A week before I left America, I experienced a significant personal loss.  The blow was unexpected and savage, shredding me in ways that I haven't felt in years.*  My fingertips were numb for days, but the rest of me wouldn't stop feeling.  Goodbyes were stunted as I threw what little energy I had into packing for another year abroad.**  Those closest to me took turns caring for me, encouraging me, or explaining how it would all be "worth it in the long run."  Days blurred, and I kissed my family goodbye, and flew away from everything.

And then the Nothing.  The loss, the Nothing, with its immense, commanding presence, came with me. 

Every day I've looked at Nothing and responded.  I've wished that I could quit, but quitting has never been an option for me.  How can I?  Life moves, and I don't have the choice to stand still.  It feels like playing Halo with my brother.***  There's nothing I muck up quite so thoroughly as playing Halo with my brother.  He's patient with me, but usually ends up laughing as my solider moves around in circles, shoots at the sky, or runs into a wall repeatedly as he gets shot.  I'm proud when I can walk my character in a straight line, and ecstatic when he does what I intended him to do.  That's how I've felt for the past two months.  I look at Nothing, and try.  Sometimes I end up huddled against a wall, trying to remember how to turn around before I get shot.  Other times I walk in a straight line and duck when I need to.  Unlike Halo, I can't opt out of this game with Nothing.

I'm stubborn.  I get frustrated being stuck in this place that I don't want to be in, tired of the colors in my world being dimmed.  God knows all things, but I don't.  Sometimes it makes me angry that He leaves me out of the loop, even when logic tells me that it may be for my benefit.  He's been patient with my frustration, leading me when I'm able to bear it, and not before.  Look out for more on that in future posts.

It's been a grim season.  I've learned that faith doesn't always feel sustaining, and that trusting doesn't always encourage the heart.  One can trust and hurt.  One can have faith and suffer.  For the past two months, I've vacillated between wanting to hide inside myself, and wanting the world to understand how deeply this struck.  My experience as a performer has been invaluable; I'm experienced at boxing up and setting aside my feelings to achieve a task, even if it feels unnatural.  Much has felt unnatural these past weeks.  It's only been in this last week that I feel like I'm coming back to myself a bit.

When I first re-entered China, I thought often about how I needed to update my blog.  For the first three weeks, the idea of writing made my hands drop heavily to my sides.  I can't lie here.  It's one thing to wear a smile for a stranger, and it's another thing to write with shallow happiness.  For me, to write is to create Something, and my Nothing was too agonizingly vivid.  I write now to re-enter my writing world, to create again.  It may not be pretty, but I have to start somewhere.

To all my dear friends who will be concerned on my behalf: I'm not alone here, just choosing a little quiet space.  Many good things have happened in the past two months that have encouraged and uplifted me.  I'm not going to break. :)

*To the person I lost: I still exist.  Your silence is so very loud.

**If I failed to REALLY say goodbye to you, I apologize whole-heartedly.  It was due to my pain, not to the lack of affection I feel for my friends.

***My brother and I do a weird variety of really enjoyable stuff so we can spend time together.  Sometimes that includes late-night happy hour after 8-hr shifts, running errands across the city, picking out weird instruments in a soundtrack, or cooking really great food.

Home for the Summer!

It's 12:15am of the day I leave China.  I'm ready to  collapse in bed for a few hours of sleep, but I didn't feel like I could leave without writing one more post.

This last week has been incredibly difficult for me - no, not pain from leaving China.  Back pain!  I was packing last Tuesday when I threw out my back in the most painful way I've ever experienced.  The past six days have included multiple trips to the hospital, capsules containing 'artificial tiger bone', and the help of countless friends.  I'm not new to back pain, but I've never experienced it to this extent.  My community here truly outdid themselves on my behalf.  People brought me food, helped me stand and walk, did my laundry, paid my phone bill, scoured the building for American medicine - one friend even helped me pack one of my suitcases!  While I can't say I'd choose it again, it was still really amazing to see how everyone pulled together - for me.  Not a bad way to go.

An interesting side affect was how my immobility affected my stress level.  Because I had to limit what I lifted and how I moved, I obsess over every detail of packing and cleaning like I typically do before a trip.  I had a solid dose of 'It is what it is' attitude.  So my house is immaculately clean.  So what?  It'll get dusty over the course of the summer anyways.  I do have to say though, it's perfectly tidy.  Perfectly.

As I finished my last project (a calendar to put in my carry-on) I cleaned off my desk, and organized my papers.  I opened a box of letters that friends gave me as I left last fall.  I read over them, and was surprised to find how encouraging they were here at the end of the year.  The last few weeks have been focused on reviewing the year, sizing up strengths and weaknesses, and making a game plan for next year.  After all that critique, it was wonderful to re-read those affirmations.  Never underestimate the power of a good letter!

It was also fun to realize that I will see these people in a matter of days!  Warning:  I'm a long hugger.  AND my hugging needs haven't been met for 10 months.  So - here I come!!

Wonderful Water

After sleeping for 31/2 hours, I taught three classes and managed to eat dinner before collapsing on my sofa.  I was covered with a fine layer of China-grit, my legs and stomach ached, and my noses-knowses-my-toeses-weren't-roses.  My living room bore the wreckage of Hurricane Semester-Grades, but I tried to ignore it as I zoned out on my computer, chatting with a friend.

I decided that putting China-grit in my bed was an option too disgusting to consider.  I maneuvered around dirty dishes and piles of laundry* to flip on my hot water, weeping inwardly over my lack of a bathtub.  Then I remembered that I had hot water.  Not just hot water, but a hot water TANK, which I inherited (for free) when I moved into my apartment.  Having a tank means that I can have hot water whenever I want it, and I don't run out.  Then I thought about how I had finished my grades on time without feeling stressed out or having to run to class.  Of course, I HAD to finish them early because I had a morning Skype-date with a friend in Portland.

And then I had a mocha.
Then a student checked up on me after class because I seemed down. (Tired.)
Then talked with another friend in Chile after my classes.
While I was drinking an imported beverage.
Then I streamed a TV show. (Because I have the best wifi signal in our apartment building.)
A TV show in English.

These thoughts were running through my head, and before I realized it, I was singing along with the radio, thanks to technology, awesome wifi, and companies who think that music should be free.  And to top it off, a friend gave me a water dispenser this week.  I put down a one-time, refundable $6.50 deposit.  I now have access to free filtered water delivered to my door for as long as I want.  Things that are the norm in America just....aren't a guarantee in other countries.  I'm not being sarcastic or dramatic when I say that I'm really excited that I can fill my water bottle before class without having to boil water, ask for water from a tea shop, or wait 3 minutes as the machine in the cafeteria fills my bottle one drop at a time.  I have water - hot water in my shower, and clean water in my bottle.  I have access to international friends, music, entertainment, and I live in China, engaging in life through a completely new venue with people that I really enjoy.

I'm still exhausted.  I still want a bathtub and a cheeseburger.  But I have to say, my life is pretty awesome.


*I'm not typically a slob, but at the end of the term housework is low on my list of priorities.

Picking up the Pace

An excerpt from an email to a friend.

She said: "Hey, what's up with you?"

I said:

Hey.
- Grades.
- Final Reviews.
- Meetings about MORE employment next year.
- I met the UN head of Women's issues for the country of Morocco. She's going to connect me with the UN Director of NGOs in Palestine.
- Applying for a professional Fulbright Grant to do research.
- Considering getting a second Masters next year in sociology.
- I think I have a new mentor - a fascinating French Canadian woman who studied the rise/fall of the women's movement in the M.E. We had an immediate connection.
- And hey, I mentioned grading and finals, right? Ugh, stress.
- Still no airplane tickets. If there's no improvement, I'm buying a kayak.

There are sooooo many things going on right now, fascinating things, exciting things, motivational things, ALL-THE-THINGS!  I have two partially written posts explaining what's been going on.  I hope to have a full-ish report to give you all by this weekend.

The Future

I miss school. Being IN school. Maybe I just miss the structure of having someone tell me EXACTLY how to go about doing my work, or maybe I miss having colleagues hold me accountable to an extremely high standard. Or the smell of new books or the energy of a college hallway. Which sounds ridiculous considering that I work AT a college. Someday I'll go back. Someday when I have money and know which PhD program I want. When I get there, I will have paid off all my loans, acquired the perfect body and a sailboat that I will be able to sail successfully on my own across multiple hemispheres. I'll be finishing my final draft of a book, which I'll write to satisfy the requests of my blog followers. In my mind's eye, I have the perfect haircut and a grey power-suit with a pencil skirt that never wrinkles. Wonderfully cultured men will vie for my attention, but I don't have time for them. The choirs I teach will perfectly incorporate indigenous instruments from whatever culture I live in. My compositions will be highly sought after, and the concerts I conduct will move people to tears. (In a good way.) Every morning will begin with yoga, a cup of tea, and a good book. Powerful people will listen to my opinions respectfully, and I'll build schools for forgotten people in unfathomable places. In fact, the UN will be grooming me to work in a position developing international educational systems, but I may opt to be a professor at my alma mater instead. I'll have some kind of absurd pet, like a skunk or a monkey or a lemur named either Sylvia or Charles. And I will never sweat. I think I'll get there in the next 10 years.

The future is a good place.

In other news, I'll be returning to China next year.

Sweeping Change of Plans

The past three days have been a whirlwind of meetings, ideas, and a striking change of plans.

A couple of months ago, I decided that I would not return to China next year.  There were a number of reasons, but the most pertinent factors were position (I should be teaching music, not English), salary (American sized-debt needs American-sized salary), and a couple of core-level culture clashes.*

This weekend I was invited to be a part of an interview team for the World Academy for the Future of Women.**  It's possible that I'll be writing more about this organization in the future.  For now, I'll just say that it's a club focused on propagating confident and effect women in leadership positions.  Besides interviews, I'm also teaching the club members a song to perform at a Symposium this weekend.  The members of this club are some of the most driven and competent students I've met at the university.  They listen closely and act whole-heartedly.  I've been very impressed by the caliber of student I've seen both in the club, and in students who apply for the club.

As I talked to these women (and a few men)  I grew more and more excited about the people, their goals, and the values they were working to instill.  I had numerous conversations with leaders and colleagues about the upcoming year, planning out themes, leadership development, partnering with other institutions, and selecting a dynamic group of fascinating, young Chinese women.  I quickly found myself thinking, "I'd stay in China for this."

The Academy is eager to have an on-site coordinator, but at the moment there's no funding for the position.  After many more conversations and meetings I've worked out a plan that has potential.  At this moment, a friend and current teacher in the music department is helping me arrange an audition/interview with the head of the university's vocal department.  If he likes what he hears, I could potentially be hired to teach private voice full time next year.  There's also a slim chance that I could be hired to teach English again.  If one of those options work out, the Academy may supplement my salary in order to keep me on as a coordinator.

There are numerous loose ends to this 'plan.'  I wouldn't mention it at all, but I think prayer works.  The next week is full of hurdles for me: concerts, interviews, solos, grading, international travel arrangements, residence permit applications, resumé updates, proposals to write and important interactions with powerful people.  If you're a praying person, please pray for favor and clear guidance. If you're not a praying person, please cheer from afar!




*I'm not referring to an argument or feeling of anger.  Some elemental parts of Chinese culture flow perpendicularly to my personal convictions.  I've learned how to accept and function with the differences, but I'm not at peace with them.
** Link for more information:  http://globalinteractions.org/world-academy-for-the-future-of-women/

Unexpected Book-talk

Recently I stayed home with an sneak-attack of mild food poisoning.  I cancelled class and rehearsal, but forgot about a student meeting that I had in the evening.  After toughing through the meeting, I was headed upstairs when I saw one of my favorite students* chatting in a library next to a cafe.  I poked my head inside to say hello, and noticed that three students were circled about a Chinese-English Bible.

So during a time I least expected it, I joined a small group of students trying to wrap their brains around the ideas in the Bible.  The concepts they struggled with were amazingly logical: Are all of these stories true?  If we can do anything we set our minds to, why do we need God?  I have questions, so I guess I don't "believe."

I loved the fact that I was there to hear these questions, because too often these thoughts are shushed with cliche responses that don't really address the issues.  Here are a few of my thoughts about these questions....

Are all of these stories true?
Classic Answer: Yes.  
My answer: Which story?
Biblical authors weren't afraid of allegory, metaphor or illustrative narratives.  Some people say, 'But if you think the Bible can be metaphorical, you can explain away all difficult parts as metaphors!'  Um...no you can't.  If you refuse to consider the possible uses of literature, you choose to limit your understanding of the Bible.  Psalms! Proverbs!   The development of themes and motifs of the prophets!  Story-telling forms of the ancient Hebrews!  My answer to this questions is, "I believe the Bible is real. Some of the writings aren't literal.  Which one are you talking about?"

If we can do anything we set our minds to, why do we need God?
Classic Answer:  Sometimes we make mistakes or get discouraged, so we need God.
My Answer: We can't do anything we set our minds to.
One of the myths of Modernism is the idea that hard work and innovation enables humankind to accomplish anything!  Don't believe me?  Go to a graduation ceremony.**  Many people I know would say, 'I don't believe that.  Human beings have limitations.  We have spiritual and psychological needs that often can't be addressed through hard work or willpower.'  If you are one of those people, welcome to Post-Modernism!  I use the labels of Modernism and Post Modernism because I've actually heard people lament the death of Modernism.  Humans can accomplish great things, but we cannot solve all problems.  Let go of that pressure...it runs people into the ground.  When this question meets faith, we tend to treat God like a gift-giver.  Yes, He is Wonderful, Counselor, and Healer, but our need of Him isn't restricted to times of pain.  We don't need God to encourage us while we solve all of life's problems.  We need God because we are human, fallible, and limited, and that is often difficult for us to accept.***

I have questions, so I guess I don't "believe."
Classic Answer: Uh-oh, let's find the answers.****
My Answer:  Questions are okay.
When I was little, I was troubled by the questions I had about God.  I was talking to my mom one day while we were doing errands (I don't know if she remembers this), and she finally paused from what she was doing, looked at me, and said, "God can handle your questions, Emily.  You're not going to make Him mad."  I felt immediate relief that has encouraged me often throughout the years.  God gave us brains, critical thinking skills, and plenty of paradoxical teachings in the Bible if we're brave enough to see them.  I think God wants our hearts AND our minds.  We worship with our minds by addressing the questions we have, not by ignoring them.  I believe that if we use our questions to pursue the nature of God, them we're right where He wants us - chasing Him down!

I love Jesus, and I love teaching.  Tonight I had the opportunity of talking with a well-loved student who was really thinking about God.  I loved being able to validate her questions.  Having faith isn't about the absence of questions, it's about the pursuit of God through those questions.  I'm excited to talk with these students again!



*I'm a teacher, not a parent.  Favorites are allowed.
**I loathe graduation ceremonies.  However, the people I love tend to graduate from places.  If I've ever attended a graduation ceremony on your behalf, please recognize it as the great extension of my love for you.
***There are many reasons we need God. These are just a few pertinent examples.
****Sometimes questions arise simply from lack of Biblical knowledge.  In this instance, I'm referring to deeper questions.  Too often I hear Christians say, "We just can't understand that because we're human."  True, we are limited by our humanity, but God has embedded in us the desire to understand him (Ecclesiastes), and that desire should be encouraged.