Johnny Cash

This title is a wee bit misleading because this post has very little to do with our beloved Johnny Cash. He serves more of an inspirational than topical role. So here is the tale of how I arrived in a foreign European city and played a show in the local music scene within a week of me being there. I can feel the suspense building!! Dun dun dunnnnn....

I had been out with one of the church families exploring a cycling festival. Naturally, men in very tight bike shorts and BMXers with crazy tricks was all good and fun BUT the night got even better. We passed by a cafe that was packed out and stopped to hear the really wonderful musicians who were part of a local music festival also going through town. I ended up staying for the whole performance and, in my foolishness, decided to ask the cafe's music manager if I could possibly take part in any upcoming open mic nights or shows. Then he said, "Ok, you want to play here? Get up right now." I thought this was some form of blunt and slightly awkward British humor....it wasn't. So lo and behold I had to play in the middle of this festival while I was still sick and jetlagged.

BUT apparently these beautiful Brits loved it because they asked me to play another three songs. I introduced one of my songs as my "Johnny Cash wanna be" (because, honestly, every musician would give their right pink finger to be a songwriter of his caliber). This eventually lead to another musician joining me on stage, a waiter coming up who played the harmonica, and an entire bar full of lovely English accents howling away to "Ring of Fire." This was one of those beautiful memories in life that you just want to take by the shoulders and give a sloppy wet kiss to in gratitude for having experienced them.

Then I was booked for an actual show at the end of that week, and got to have this lovely experience all over again! There is something so purely joyful about sharing your music with people for the first time...because in all honesty, a musician shares their soul with you when they play anything they've written. Even if a tune is dumb or a lyric unexciting, that person is showing you a wee bit of their brain. And how interesting that we get to look into the brains of musical people--probably some of the most weird and jacked up and funny and confusing bunch this earth has to offer!

There was a certain strength I could feel filling my lungs when I was able to just lay everything on the table to a packed out room full of people I've never met. What I have been hinting at in the past few posts about finding my song and my voice again was manifested in a really literal sense.

Being completely brokenhearted is not some lofty emotional ideal. You feel things physically. Tangibly.

Very literally my voice was weak and small for so long just as the very color of my eyes seemed to fade to a dimmer shade. I'm sure that room full of strangers had no idea what it meant to me to be able to have the strength to sing those thoughts so loudly...to not feel afraid to speak the truth. To have no fear about my past walking through the door in the middle of my struggle and beating me down to ground zero all over again. Nope! Not this time. This time I could feel strength in my lungs and voice. This time I could maybe give Johnny Cash a run for his money....JUST KIDDING. That's a ridiculous idea if there ever was one. If anything, I'm coming out of a ring of fire rather than going into one.

The French nihilist philosopher Albert Camus penned this: Au milieu de l'hiver, j'ai découvert en moi un invincible été...In the middle of winter, I found in me an invincible summer.

That has been music for me. An invincible summer from within.

A lil adventure in the main Square on the day of the show!

My lovely rommate!

Skaters in the Square

Still Waters

Let's just have a moment of honesty, folks: our faces are big fat liars.

We can be smiling and laughing and have the most merry demeanor in the whole freaking world, but inside we are more cold and dark and empty than Mammoth Cave. Some people may say that this illusion is cool and aloof and is somehow socially tantalizing. But can I just say, from personal experience, that it absolutely SUCKS to live this way? To live in the world of make believe. To have a pretty smile but actually have no control over your spirit. To have people tell you how happy you look when in all reality your soul is a weeping willow.

So now that we're being honest with one another, I can say that I was in that rut for months and now it has come back this past week. I come close enough to healing and happiness to smell which toothpaste they use. But then something will suck me back and keep carving out a space between my belly button and breastbone. A place of emptiness that can be concealed with folds of skin and fabric and smiles. Even if I have the most fantastic day in the world filled with sunshine and lily ponds and the best kind of sunburns, that two faced emotional monster will rear its ugly head.

And I have had enough of it.

During a prayer meeting for the city, I finally caved in and let my face match my weary soul. I was sitting away from the others in the church so that I could come clean to God. Like a shaking drug addict in rehab, I told Him again and again, "I just don't know how to make it stop. I don't even know how to pray. I just don't know how to make it stop. I know You've been healing me. But I just don't know how to make it stop."

I looked up and there He was...in the most beautiful stained glass window I've ever seen. It wasn't the most artistically skilled--St. Peter's Basilica probably has that covered. It wasn't the largest by any means--again, I'm sure Vatican City has that taken care of. But it had the sort of beauty that only comes from something that is absolutely true. The window was a simple picture of Jesus as a shepherd, herding a group of really plump and innocent yet empty headed sheep around His feet. Jesus wasn't decked out in some glorious robe or bearing a halo bigger than His head. Instead, His face was turned down in humility and love. He had on the kind of look that sees straight through you to the empty place between your belly button and breastbone. At that moment the only thing I could think of was Psalm 23. Yes, the one we all learned as lil kids but only really ever murmured the words because it was in weird KJV English. Yes, the one that's cheesily quoted in every semi-Judeo-Christian movie (slash oddly enough those about vampires or demon slaying priests).

The psalm's words began to flow over me like Jesus himself was gonna lean down from the stained glass window and poke my arm with His rod and staff in order for me to pay attention. Tears burned up my eyes so that all I could see was His face in the evening light that perfectly shown through His honest, humble eyes.

I will lead you beside still waters, Christina.

I will let you lie down in green pastures.

I will restore your soul.

I will lead you on paths of righteousness...for MY name's sake. Not yours.

Even though you walk through the valley of the shadow of death, fear no evil. For I am with you.

My rod and my staff will comfort you.

I am the good shepherd. 

Often the green pastures that the Lord leads us to aren't the ones we expected. Often His paths of righteousness wind straight through that valley of death. But because our shepherd is leading us, goodness and mercy follow us on those gnarled paths. He is taking us to still waters. Let your soul be still. I'm not yet fully healed. I never will be on this side of eternity, actually. But I have my good shepherd. I'm letting Him lead me to still waters. That empty space in my gut isn't going to take control of me. I will fear no evil.

Orange Walls and Instant Coffee

Heathrow airport

Neon orange walls, instant coffee, mushroom and cheese toastie, REAL bacon, foggy weather, floral curtains, tiny flat where the bathroom's bigger than the kitchen. These are some of the first objects I've encountered since coming to England. Beyond the humorous neon wall paint contradicting the dark sky outside the door and beyond the annoyance of having an awful head cold that only progressively got worse as I traveled, has been the beautiful blessing of the church family. Sometimes it takes an act as drastic as God plucking us from our home and dropping us in an entirely different country in order to show us that we are deeply loved by His people. Sometimes it takes the warmth of strangers feeding you English breakfast at night and round after round of tea while laughing at all your dumb jokes in order for us to see that we are cared for by our universal family. It's a beautiful--yet oft forgotten fact--that the church is not defined by walls or mortar. The church is the bride of Christ. The church is the children of God. The church is my sweet Kenyan roommate who made me coffee as soon I got up from a jetlagged mid-day nap. The church is a couple waking up at 5 in the morning to drive to London and pick me up from the airport. The church is a Bible study group who I've never met until yesterday who have been praying for me for weeks. The church is my supervisor telling me that--although the circumstances of my coming were so so painful--she knows the Lord brought me to them to do His work.

The church is a familial gift. A glimpse into heaven. Don't let us forget that for a moment.

It's very strange that back home I could be surrounded by an entire college of people who love and support me yet could feel more alone than I ever have in my life. I could pass by face after face on campus who would greet me and smile; however, the loneliness would creep up next to me each night and shove its way onto my pillow to whisper all the demons of the past in my ears. Nevertheless, today it struck me how God has used a completely foreign place to press His faithfulness and love deep on my soul. This morning I was at a prayer meeting where people gather every week and pray for a couple hours for the church's prostitution ministry. I was sitting there, staring out the window solemnly, being consumed with dark thoughts and sadness that appeared out of nowhere. For about 10 minutes a bit of sunshine came and stayed on this really pretty, flowery tree outside the window. That sunny tree suddenly made me feel so grateful and joyful. I kept thinking, "Wow. I'm really here. In England. God really is faithful. And there are people here who love me. God really loves me." 

I felt Him assuring me that He really was taking care of me. Even though I lost the only person I thought truly loved me and who I really loved. Even though my whole world was swept out from under my feet as if it was never really mine to begin with. God comforted me by reminding me that when everything first happened, I couldn't even breath..all I did was weep and I couldn't even imagine the life ahead. But God healed me. He gave me breath. He delivered me. He actually brought me this far and gave me strength enough for every day...days that, at first, seemed godforsaken but turned out to be God blessed. I never ever thought I could make it to this point where I'm happy and laughing and adventurous and have my song again. God did that. It just finally all came together this morning as I looked outside at that darn beautiful sunny tree! Its branches were all waving, delighted in the bit of sunshine and I thought, "That's ME! Finally in the sunshine! Finally free!" (Naturally, it'd make sense why I would associate myself with a flowery tree if you know anything about my hippie freak self).

After this botanical theological moment, I had a lovely time getting lost in the mad English weather. Coming back from the church, my Kenyan roommate gave me wrong directions to our flat because--God bless her--she doesn't know left from right. So I wandered around for a while then had to walk all the way back to the church, and every person I passed by I'm certain gave me a "Ya dumb American" look..they just knew!! Then on the way back I got lost again; however, some really nice lady helped me find my place on a map she had. It started down pouring rain and hail, but this completely random stranger gave me an umbrella. So then I finally got home and put on the kettle to have some tea away from the rain, then lo and behold I look outside and it's sunny! I have new found respect for the sassy weather. Yesterday, my supervisor joked about how Brits are obsessed with the weather. Now I understand why.

There are many more lost adventures to be had and random foliage to teach me lessons about the Almighty!

**Also, I've decided I shall be affectionately referring to this trip as my "hobbit holiday." My Padre putzed around with the idea for the trip's nickname along with "walkabout." I originally was going to go for that one; however, the image of me trapsing through the bush with a grass skirt and giant spear and war paint was just a bit too unrealistic and didn't do the Aboriginal people any justice...so instead "hobbit holiday" it is.

I have a hardcore obsession with old churches. Needless to say, I'm ecstatic in this country.

First English toastie! I swear these people are going to make me fat and happy.

I have a deep childhood love for snails. They're so magical! Like being in a fairy's garden!

10 Days

In only ten days, I will leave the shores of this crazy nation and frolic off to another--also equally crazy...just with a different set of issues than America's. It really hasn't hit me until now that I'm actually going to spend three months in England. The parish where I'll be serving is in one of the UK's most known red light districts and falls in the worst 1% nationally for overall poverty and crime. And PRAISE GOD for His church being there. I seriously cannot wait. Going from broken Chicago to broken Nottingham (yes, as in Robin Hood...cept instead of Sherwood Forest there's cocaine and prostitution) does not phase me. The kingdom of God is a kingdom of light, and no place is too dark for it.

Yesterday I was sitting on my couch watching Modern Family when I was struck with the fact that this adventure God has plopped me in the midst of is happening in only ten days. Ten days, people. Kate Hudson tried to lose and then fell in love with a guy in ten days, but everything seemed so sweet and simple in that movie. Ten days does NOT seem so sweet and relaxed to me now. Ten days to pack up my whole life and somehow become prayerfully prepared to serve in a place I never even knew actually existed until this past March. Ten days to buy a travel backpack and electrical convertor and pepper spray and trendy sundresses and hard core deodorant. Ten days to say goodbye to my friends and family and dog. Ten days to almost forget to call the US Embassy. Ten days to spend way too much time on tea websites and English cooking blogs as if they will somehow prepare me for the new culture. Ten days to look at my Bible a million times and wonder what the heck I could possibly preach without sounding like a huge hypocrite. Ten days to sit in my bed at 3am and stare blankly up and not know any words to pray but "please help and guide me."

The scariest, most thrilling, most exciting,  most nerve wracking, most jump up and dance part about realizing I have only ten days left? Not knowing what will happen after that. 

But it's a good thing I don't know. Adventures are meant to be experienced--not foreknew.

So in the meantime, here's to brunch dates with my roommate and laughter at 6am while writing papers and sunshine finally hitting our skin in the windy city. Cheers!

[insert clever title about April]

Sometimes I have writer's block. Other times I simply slept in way too late, consumed too many carbs, and the only thing that retains my attention is the couch and a good book. At any rate, I was really hoping to be able to craft some very witty response to April. Instead, I'm looking forward to eating a French baguette and watching Parks & Rec.

This month was nothing short of extraordinary...I survived it after all.

Therefore, I'm very sorry I can't relay the soul gripping truths I've been learning via clever text. For now, I can only supply maybe a more cheerful glimpse into rain showers and chess and silly school events--in the end, these were the things that helped me survive this month.

Saturday Senses

 

 Seeing: a lot of dreariness and bare trees because apparently Chicago hasn't gotten the memo that it's spring so it keeps getting warm then back to frigid

Smelling: that perfectly sharp and chocolatey espresso aroma that hangs in the air of any good coffeeshop

Tasting: well earlier I had Gouda and Wisconsin summer sausage on crackers...I splurged a bit today on my trip to the grocery store

Hearing: the couple sitting in front of me have a really funny conversation about hipster tattoos

Feeling: oddly calm...not content per se....just calm

Loving: the hints of warm weather that keep popping up in between the cold phases--I wore a skirt with no tights last week! It was glorious.

Reading: "The Secret Life of Bees" for the third time

Praying: 1) for me to rest in the new mercies God gives every morning 2) for my friend Lauren who went into labor today 3) for me to trust in His provision and guidance over an internship this summer

Song of the Week: "Sparrow" by Audrey Assad

Verse of the Week: Hebrews 12:1-3

 This idea, typically called Friday Senses, is thanks to the blogs Dear Family and Kalanag

The Broken Hearted

It's taken me two months to be able to write this post. I'm still not sure I have the words to say.

My life has been completely rearranged, and not by my own choosing. Sometimes the person who you trust the most becomes the one who can let you down the most. Sometimes the one person who you let see your sin and scars can leave you the most ashamed and wounded. Such is the way when we place our faith in frail humanity. All people are sinful and will always let us down at some point--the degree of that just tends to vary. I'm not trying to be a pessimist about all of humanity for I am still an optimist at the end of the day. I still pray God's goodness will transform hearts and change people's calloused pride. But that doesn't always happen. God is gracious enough to give us free will and the ability to make mistakes, sin against one another, and have time to repent whilst experiencing the great consequences of our wrongdoing. Otherwise, we'd just get struck down every time we screwed up. But there is still that fighting voice that sounds in our minds and demands answers for all the mess of this life.

When your beloved becomes a liar, what do you do?

When your hero becomes a coward, what do you do?

When your life becomes a sham, what do you do?

When your promises become dust, what do you do?

When your love becomes worthless, what do you do?

When your tears become ineffective, what do you do?

I really don't know any of these answers. I may never know them. And sometimes no amount of prayers or worship or cries or logic or anger or weeping will give you answers. That's alright. It is a humbling reminder of your humanity and inability to come up with answers when left to your own devices. A humbling reminder that the person who has so terribly wronged and betrayed you is JUST as human as you are.

A man Job was terribly wronged and went through some of the most injustice circumstances this world has seen yet. In the end, none of that suffering was because of his great piety or lack thereof. God alone held the answers. A man Jesus was betrayed and abandoned and experienced every single suffering that anyone's on earth could be compared to. In the end, even His most pitiful cry in the Garden was left unanswered. But God alone still held the final word. After the Jewish people had been led around the desert for 40 years, God finally gave them an answer as to why they had been wandering. He told them that He had done so to humble them and test what was actually hidden in their hearts. He wanted to see if they truly loved Him and would keep His commands.

When we are sinned against or when God directly intervenes, I believe that we are left with one response. Know that God has the answers and rest in that fact. All I need to do and literally all I'm capable of doing is to love Him and keep His commands. Even if someone demonstrates to you EVERYTHING that is the opposite of God's character, we are to be like Him towards others. We will not always have the answers, but we can still love God more than anything and follow His command to love others even greater than ourselves. If we are racing fast towards Him and loving others along the way, He will show His face to us and bring healing--even if we don't have the answers. All of us will stand before Him and be held accountable for how much we loved Him and whether or not we demonstrated His character to others. There is comfort that the God who is healing you is also the very God who will hold accountable those that sin against you.

Psalm 147: 2-11
The Lord builds up Jerusalem;
    he gathers the exiles of Israel.
³ He heals the brokenhearted
    and binds up their wounds.
⁴ He determines the number of the stars
    and calls them each by name.
⁵ Great is our Lord and mighty in power;
    his understanding has no limit.
⁶ The Lord sustains the humble
    but casts the wicked to the ground.

⁷ Sing to the Lord with grateful praise;
    make music to our God on the harp.

⁸ He covers the sky with clouds;
    he supplies the earth with rain
    and makes grass grow on the hills.
⁹ He provides food for the cattle
    and for the young ravens when they call.

¹⁰ His pleasure is not in the strength of the horse,
    nor his delight in the legs of the warrior;
¹¹ the Lord delights in those who fear him,
    who put their hope in his unfailing love.

Hebrews 13:5
Keep your lives free from the love of money and be content with what you have, because God has said,

“Never will I leave you;
    never will I forsake you.”

God will always be the better husband. God will always be the better Father. God will always be the better friend. He is faithful and selfless and sacrificial and perfect in His love--even when all others are not. He alone gives us breath. He alone is the great lover of humanity.