I hesitate because "speaking up"
cannot be reduced to facebook
or a blog post
On the other hand I admit my silence because
Who can I even speak up to?
Will my social circles care to listen?
What do I say?
What if I've got it wrong?
Is "silence" interpreted by
social media streams devoid of shares
That look just like
"everyone" else's
Is it enough that speaking up
Comes in quiet questions asked in prayer
Consistent thoughts in the back of your mind
Bracing and facing hesitation as you call a friend
Prepared to fumble over words
The truth is:
I have not intertwined my life with theirs
Thus I have to choose hurt.
Before the sin of silence
Is the sin of distance between them and me
When I choose to speak,
Is it because I feel guilty?
Because I choose not to
Is it because I don't feel convicted enough?
In the flurry of
blogs
posts
news
videos
hurt
pain
right
wrong
sadness
silence
expectation
yearning
what part of the deep gray matter and mess
do I choose?
Help me
I am not avoiding
I just don't know what to say
Thursday, August 21, 2014
Monday, August 11, 2014
Flourishing
Power, resources, flourishing. Two days ago, my roommate and I successfully hosted a dinner that brought together a couple different circles of church friends as well as two new friends who moved to Sacramento within the past six months. In the 48 hours since that successful hamburger night and while I try to finish Crouch's Playing God (yes, another reference), I've been mulling over those three words and how they played out in our evening of cheeseburgers and dessert.
Crouch defines power as "the ability to make something of the world" - to transform your environment, and the ability to interpret and make meaning from the world. And as I think about why Ro and I threw together this dinner party, we wanted to make community happen. I saw new friends in positions where I was not too long ago: showing up at group-hosted events but otherwise having little to do on weekends. Slowly finding their life in this new city but still a-ways from having a home. These two years in Sacramento have made me incredibly sympathetic to newcomers, re-locators, and transplants. I remember being there. And I hope they will find a home here sooner than later. In that sense, we had the power and used it to create connections, relationships, and communities among our newer friends and our church regulars.
Our other undercover, personal mission has been to bridge gaps between our young adult and career adult groups. Both of us have dabbled in both and have recently been churning thoughts about their similarities and differences, for better or for worse, as they both reflect God and also our broken human selves. While there is no need for the groups to merge, this summer I've found myself wanted to erase the lines that unnecessarily separate the groups. So here I am -- about a year and a half into knowing these church friends and already mixing up social groups and guests lists. Transforming the environment indeed.
But what a dinner party it was. The word resources is included above because prior to moving into this home, I wouldn't have the space to host a dinner where 11 of us could sit around a table. I think of the power we used to create a space for people to flourish through our hospitality: as resident and host of this home, I made the choice to put two tables together so all of us could sit around and face each other. Even that choice versus the paired-off seating of group parties was meant to communicate come, join our family. Tablecloths and set placements said, We're ready for you. And in really cheesy, practical ways (no pun intended), we allowed for creation. We had gaps in our planning that made it so Joe and David were at the stove during all of prep time. We picked a menu so that everyone could contribute and together we created our dinner.
There is no perfect community on this side of heaven, but as I play my part in a kingdom-like community here, maybe this is a new start: using my power and resources to have mealtimes where people sit around a table with a whole group, where old friends meet new people, where people are invited to participate and contribute something to the table, where I create space for joy, laughter, communion, and fellowship. And may it be a place where people and communities may flourish.
Crouch defines power as "the ability to make something of the world" - to transform your environment, and the ability to interpret and make meaning from the world. And as I think about why Ro and I threw together this dinner party, we wanted to make community happen. I saw new friends in positions where I was not too long ago: showing up at group-hosted events but otherwise having little to do on weekends. Slowly finding their life in this new city but still a-ways from having a home. These two years in Sacramento have made me incredibly sympathetic to newcomers, re-locators, and transplants. I remember being there. And I hope they will find a home here sooner than later. In that sense, we had the power and used it to create connections, relationships, and communities among our newer friends and our church regulars.
Our other undercover, personal mission has been to bridge gaps between our young adult and career adult groups. Both of us have dabbled in both and have recently been churning thoughts about their similarities and differences, for better or for worse, as they both reflect God and also our broken human selves. While there is no need for the groups to merge, this summer I've found myself wanted to erase the lines that unnecessarily separate the groups. So here I am -- about a year and a half into knowing these church friends and already mixing up social groups and guests lists. Transforming the environment indeed.
But what a dinner party it was. The word resources is included above because prior to moving into this home, I wouldn't have the space to host a dinner where 11 of us could sit around a table. I think of the power we used to create a space for people to flourish through our hospitality: as resident and host of this home, I made the choice to put two tables together so all of us could sit around and face each other. Even that choice versus the paired-off seating of group parties was meant to communicate come, join our family. Tablecloths and set placements said, We're ready for you. And in really cheesy, practical ways (no pun intended), we allowed for creation. We had gaps in our planning that made it so Joe and David were at the stove during all of prep time. We picked a menu so that everyone could contribute and together we created our dinner.
There is no perfect community on this side of heaven, but as I play my part in a kingdom-like community here, maybe this is a new start: using my power and resources to have mealtimes where people sit around a table with a whole group, where old friends meet new people, where people are invited to participate and contribute something to the table, where I create space for joy, laughter, communion, and fellowship. And may it be a place where people and communities may flourish.
Thursday, August 7, 2014
turns out i'm not supergirl
Well my dear friends, it has been awhile, but I got hurt today. It's funny how a long streak of good health and fast recoveries make you forget that you are not invincible. But after this afternoon's bike accident, I sit here with a sore jaw and swollen lip, skinned hands and a bruised leg, and a dull headache on the left side of my head where I hit the trail. I'm glad I wore a helmet.
Fortunately the roommate Rosanne and I were together, and I had my phone (which is another thing I don't always take with me, but today may have me convinced otherwise). She called down the list of all our church friends who were nearby, and it was another one of those moments that I realized...times have changed in Sacramento. There was a time a year and a half ago when an injury or accident felt a lot more isolating and lonely, when I had only so many phone numbers within a 10 mile radius.
The boyfriend would laugh at my how I make dramatic conclusions or life lessons out of small things, but here we are: as I sit here with my head hurting and my body tired, I remember that some things take time and I can't control how fast my body heals. That I am made human and humans get hurt. And I am thankful that God gave friends and people to care for you.
On other notes, I put on the socks Jane gave me from Korea because they make me happy on this slow, tired night. It's the small things, guys.
Fortunately the roommate Rosanne and I were together, and I had my phone (which is another thing I don't always take with me, but today may have me convinced otherwise). She called down the list of all our church friends who were nearby, and it was another one of those moments that I realized...times have changed in Sacramento. There was a time a year and a half ago when an injury or accident felt a lot more isolating and lonely, when I had only so many phone numbers within a 10 mile radius.
The boyfriend would laugh at my how I make dramatic conclusions or life lessons out of small things, but here we are: as I sit here with my head hurting and my body tired, I remember that some things take time and I can't control how fast my body heals. That I am made human and humans get hurt. And I am thankful that God gave friends and people to care for you.
On other notes, I put on the socks Jane gave me from Korea because they make me happy on this slow, tired night. It's the small things, guys.
Saturday, August 2, 2014
On Idolatry
I think it's an obvious fact that many Asian American students and families have an academic idolatry. But tonight was the first time in awhile that I remembered how alive it is in our churches. At the high school senior Grad Seminar, a handful of questions were asked about balancing life, how to handle academics, where to put your time. There was a variety of answers: figure out your goals, choose your priorities, put God first. etc.
It wasn't till I drove home that I realized what was bothering me about our panel responses: when we talked about grades, we talked about it like it would be our choice. If I failed, it's because I didn't prioritize it enough, I didn't manage my time, or I didn't care enough about it. Nowhere did we say, "The Lord gave, and the Lord takes.." Nowhere did anyone say, "You might study all you can and still fail."
We are still in the grip of the idol, thinking we can control it. I'm churning thoughts off of Andy Crouch's Playing God as he talks about idolatry, how it "embodies a false claim about the world's ultimate meaning." And we think that the world will work right and in our favor if we study correctly. Nowhere does our Chinese Church narrative tell us that following God will leads us to an F.
Now, there are a lot of idols our churches have, a lot of things that are in the Bible that are missing in our teachings. But tonight this whole thing about good grades and academic success leads me to success. Because idols (again, borrowing from Crouch) will ask for more and more, while giving less and less, until eventually they demand everything and give nothing.
I remember this in undergrad. I remember when a low result on a midterm drove classmates to give more and more for their time, but to no avail. Individual classes or semester loads that demanded friends to give everything--all their time, energy, emotion--to their grades, and then gave nothing. In one case, the "nothing" turned out to be failure still: not passing, not making it, not understanding material regardless of hours put in. In others, that "nothing" came in other forms: withered relationships, tired people, purposelessness and depression.
In all honesty, it is the first case of "nothing" that I irked me: as I started this post, I wished that these incoming college freshmen knew that academics and grades were not in their control. They are not guaranteed success no matter how they put in. Try as they might, they may get an F. But as I write, I am convinced that that second "nothing" is all the more terrifying yet invisible: that they could walk out with the grades after they put in and not realize that it will demand more of them. We've seen it: the bigger idolatry of success transfers easily from academics to career and position.
These thoughts are incomplete. It's been awhile since I've paid attention to this idol in my community. But tonight the language and our illusion of control over this has given light to it yet again.
It wasn't till I drove home that I realized what was bothering me about our panel responses: when we talked about grades, we talked about it like it would be our choice. If I failed, it's because I didn't prioritize it enough, I didn't manage my time, or I didn't care enough about it. Nowhere did we say, "The Lord gave, and the Lord takes.." Nowhere did anyone say, "You might study all you can and still fail."
We are still in the grip of the idol, thinking we can control it. I'm churning thoughts off of Andy Crouch's Playing God as he talks about idolatry, how it "embodies a false claim about the world's ultimate meaning." And we think that the world will work right and in our favor if we study correctly. Nowhere does our Chinese Church narrative tell us that following God will leads us to an F.
Now, there are a lot of idols our churches have, a lot of things that are in the Bible that are missing in our teachings. But tonight this whole thing about good grades and academic success leads me to success. Because idols (again, borrowing from Crouch) will ask for more and more, while giving less and less, until eventually they demand everything and give nothing.
I remember this in undergrad. I remember when a low result on a midterm drove classmates to give more and more for their time, but to no avail. Individual classes or semester loads that demanded friends to give everything--all their time, energy, emotion--to their grades, and then gave nothing. In one case, the "nothing" turned out to be failure still: not passing, not making it, not understanding material regardless of hours put in. In others, that "nothing" came in other forms: withered relationships, tired people, purposelessness and depression.
In all honesty, it is the first case of "nothing" that I irked me: as I started this post, I wished that these incoming college freshmen knew that academics and grades were not in their control. They are not guaranteed success no matter how they put in. Try as they might, they may get an F. But as I write, I am convinced that that second "nothing" is all the more terrifying yet invisible: that they could walk out with the grades after they put in and not realize that it will demand more of them. We've seen it: the bigger idolatry of success transfers easily from academics to career and position.
These thoughts are incomplete. It's been awhile since I've paid attention to this idol in my community. But tonight the language and our illusion of control over this has given light to it yet again.
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