Just Messing Around

I found an application on facebook that goes through past facebook statuses (statii?) and makes a collage. I noticed all the words deal with things I've posted in the last month. As I look at it, I keep being struck by different, amusing thoughts.

YOU FINISHED NOTHING - what do you call college graduation??

PROCRASTINATING - fitting that it is in the center of the picture, but look at what it's close to:
Procrastinating best tonight
Procrastinating early much
aka procrastinating

24 ELVES TODAY VISIT - maybe they'll bring fruit?

Morphosyntax makes for delicious writing? As long as I devote some time to sleep. It's a childhood thing.

I like cookies and pizza.

Application made cultural rocks

I think that the hours are pretty marvelous

The Johnsons (my housemates) and Swahili project rank near the top.

I could go on and on, but for now, will the shoemaker please make some spontaneous grammar?

Yup.

On the way home from school...

For Jesus:

I will succumb

to your light in my darkness

I will succumb

to your love in the hardships

I will succomb

to your comfort in my distress

 

I will succumb

to your guide when I can't find the way

I will succumb 

to your arms in my weariness

I will succumb

to your grace in the midst of my rage

I will succumb

to your peace in my desperateness

I will succumb

to your all-consuming power...

But I will not

give you up

I will not

I will not

let you go 

until you bless me.

Girl Can't Dance

I'm in a Zumba class for the month of November. It's an hour on Monday nights. My friend Rachael and I go together, and there are a few other people we know there. Let me tell you, it's an experience.

Zumba is aerobic exercise using Latin music. It's kind of like dancing and working out all at once. This is a great way to get some exercise without feeling like you're working out.

However, it involves a LOT of dancing. Now, I'm not sure what to blame my ineptness on...Dutch? White? Small-town girl who never had the opportunity? My father and how he passed on the "challenged when doing two things at once" gene (he can't clap and sing at the same time)? For whatever reason, I have to concentrate really hard! Our instructor made a comment about none of us smiling today. If I know my facial expressions, I was probably scowling in concentration.

I guess that just means I have to practice more if I like dancing and want to be good at it, right? So, there was my adventure for the night. My Spanish fix, too, with all the Spanish music and dance moves. I'll let you know how it goes next week. For now, it's back to the books.

Babysitting

This weekend I had the wonderful opportunity to hang out with Ruby (almost 4) and Atticus (almost 2) from Friday evening to Saturday afternoon. Their family gives me rides to church most Sundays, and I really enjoy spending time with them. Paul and Danielle wanted a weekend getaway, and I was more than happy to stay with the kids for a night. We had a great time watching a movie, brushing teeth, reading books, taking a long walk and hanging out in downtown Fort Langley. 

Ruby reminds me of myself because she is always asking questions. When I spend time with her, I know what my friends feel like when they hang out with me, especially when we are watching movies! haha Atticus does not talk very much, but he communicates enough to get his point across. For a linguist like me, it was fascinating to see how he communicates even with very limited language skills. 

We had a good weekend, and I got to see the kids - and their parents - this morning at church. I really enjoy spending time with this family, and I am glad they let me be part of their lives. 

Better is One Day

Today in church we sang the song that says, "Better is one day in your courts/ better is one day in your house/ better is one day in your courts/ than thousands elsewhere." That song reminds me of a lot. For one, it is a great reminder of the one that I worship and how much I should want to be with the Jesus - all throughout my day to day activities. This morning, my heart and flesh really did cry out for the living God, like the song says. It was good to be in the house of the Lord this morning.

That song always reminds me of my mom, too, for some reason. I think she liked it, or commented on it at some point. For whatever reason, I think of her when we sing it. Speaking of my mom, my family is coming for a visit at Christmas, and I'm really looking forward to it. I'll get to introduce my parents to my world now, and show Dirk more things that he did not see in the summer. Plus, we're going to Vancouver Island for a week as a family, so we'll all get to see something new together. Their trip in December has been occupying a lot of my thoughts lately, as I've been trying to arrange a place for them to stay and thinking of all the things I want to do with them. It's kind of odd... I'll be the hostess, I guess. I'm 23, and my family is visiting me. That seems to mean that I'll be arranging things and being a hostess for them, not just letting them visit and expecting them to do everything. Like one of my friends said, we're growing up!

The song "Better is One Day" is also one more reminder of Nicaragua for me. See, lately I've been missing my Nica life a lot. My aunt and uncle are currently in Nicaragua leading a short-term encouragement/learning trip. They invited me to go with them, but I couldn't miss that much school. I'm glad for my school work's sake that I'm not with them, but my heart really wants to be there. I miss my Nica family, my friends at the Nehemiah Center, and the way of life that I grew to love. It's strange to me that my life this year mirrors so much of my life a year ago in Nicaragua. I had to get used to new people, public transit, living with a different family. I'm doing it all over again in British Columbia, but it's worse here because the similarities all remind me of the life and loved ones I left in Nicaragua.

But anyways, back to the song. It comes from Psalm 84:10-11:
¹⁰ Better is one day in your courts 
   than a thousand elsewhere; 
I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God 
   than dwell in the tents of the wicked. 
¹¹ For the LORD God is a sun and shield; 
   the LORD bestows favor and honor; 
no good thing does he withhold 
   from those whose walk is blameless.

It was at the Nehemiah Center in Nicaragua that I first really felt what that meant. Who wants to just be at the door of a place than be anywhere else? I felt like that in the Nehemiah Center, though. I would have done anything they needed, just to be there. I would have worked the most insignificant job that they had, just to serve them in some way. I love the mission of the Nehemiah Center, and the way they get different mission organizations, international missionaries, and national leaders to work together. The atmosphere is so...wholesome at the Nehemiah Center. Because of my experience there, I now know what the psalmist meant when he said he'd rather be a doorkeeper in the house of God than be anywhere else. One day is enough to satisfy all needs. Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good. He does not withhold good things. He is a sun and shield. Praise him, all the earth, for better is one day with Jesus than a lifetime with anyone else.

Veneer

I realize that it has been way too long since I last wrote. I've had lots of thoughts, but haven't been processing very much, I guess. However, things are coming together, and I thought I would share some of what's been going on. I have been catching up on reading articles for my Language And Culture Acquisition class, and one of the lines struck me (thus, the blog post):


Be searching the Word for answers to your questions about what God asks of His people, and sharing your observations with friends as you walk them out. (Thorpe, 2004)


 God HAS been teaching me more about what he asks of me, and I think that's worth sharing. Last Sunday at the Bridge church, Pastor Dan talked about stumbling with strength. He preached on the passage that talks about us being jars of clay (2 Corinthians 4:1-12). I was struck by this passage for several reasons. First, I feel like a weak vessel. Perhaps you have noted the melancholy or nostalgia or whatever it is in my blog posts the last month. Truthfully, I have been struggling with the fact that I am in grad school, living in British Columbia. Only after my expectations haven't been met do I realize that I had expectations. These expectations were quite powerful, apparently. I thought that God would have me in some ministry by now, or working a job and being a productive member of society. I thought that I would be done with school. I also expected, I suppose, that living so far away would not be so hard. Starting over is rough! I am learning that I need to be much more intentional about building relationships and getting involved so that I like the life that I am living.


Second, 2 Corinthians 4 was important to me because it tells me that it is okay for me, a Jesus-follower, to be a mess. It is important to acknowledge our weakness and problems to others. I often struggle with how much of the truth of my life to write on my blog. I DO believe that some things should be private and not put out there for everyone on cyberspace to read. However, I also think it's important to be genuine about what is going on in my life. So I guess when big stuff is happening, I just don't write very much because I don't know what to say. 


For the first time on Sunday, I heard Paul's words differently:
⁸We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; ⁹persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; ¹⁰always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies. ¹¹For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh. ¹²So death is at work in us, but life in you.


I've always imagined Paul saying this triumphantly, like an assured testimony of what God is doing. But what if those words broke him? What if they were ripped from his mouth by the pain of what he was experiencing? Picture him sobbing and saying that they are not crushed, that they are almost dead but not quite, for the sake of the gospel. Hear the horror and pain at what God is calling him to do. It's not that he is unwilling, but that he is weak. They are in the middle of the trials, and it is hard. 


Sometimes I forget that it is okay to be in the middle of a hard time and let people know. I usually wait to work through it on my own, and then talk about how God led me through it afterward. What if I admit that I am having a hard time adjusting to life in British Columbia? Besides, in the big picture I know that my difficulties will pass, and they are nothing compared to what some people have to go through... But there it is, a reminder that I am a jar of clay, not meant to be put together and wow the crowd. Why? I'll tell you.


Third thing that is significant to me about this passage is that God uses our weakness. He strength is seen most clearly in my helplessness, his wisdom in my stupidity. When I feel homeless and adrift, the Lord is my comfortable place, my Home. When I think that I said all the wrong things to someone in a tough situation, the Spirit is smoothing the edges and letting that person hear just the right things. When it seems that being in grad school is not really doing anything to serve others, God sends me new people to love and befriend and serve. 

This life here, this new start for me, reminds me of what it means to die to myself. I have to give up the things I thought would shape my life. Every day I have to surrender to the ambiguity, to the fact that I have no life plan except to follow the One who knows all plans. Yes, sometimes life is hard, but in the hard things, there are moments of grace. When I feel like I have no friends, Staci agrees to go to Washington with me. When I wonder whom I can serve, my church needs helpers for handing out candy on Halloween. When I see working soccer games as an opportunity to make some money and nothing more, a friendly, talkative Muslim is one of my coworkers that I see around campus a lot. Sometimes, these developments just take time. I'm learning to be okay with that waiting period (Lord knows I've done enough of it lately!). Just as the leaves show the transition from summer to winter (and we all hope fall takes some time), so there are good and bad parts of the waiting times in my life. No, I'm not always good, but God is, and I can rest in His joy even when it seems to take a long time in coming.

Alive with color

I miss the view from my window in Indiana. Good thing there are some gorgeous flowers around Walnut Grove that I get to see as I ride my bike. Amazing artistry, this world. The beauty makes me think that all will be well.

Blogging on Cloudy Days

I was semi-productive tonight. I finished my parts for a group presentation. I read an article or two. I did some other stuff... can't remember because I was watching youtube clips as well. Anyways, the point is... After feeling like I got something done, I couldn't do any more. Yup, hit a wall. So I've been clicking through tabs, trying to convince myself to read the 46 page article I'm supposed to read, but getting distracted by all sorts of other things.

Blogs, in fact. I was stalking my friend Dannii's blog (even though she was on the couch next to me), and then I started clicking around on Tumblr. There are a lot of blogs out there to look at.

I've been thinking about my blog lately.

I feel like I have nothing to write. But I should write something, otherwise what's the point of having a blog? But it's not like I'm followed by anyone I don't know, really.

Most blogs have themes. The ones with followers, at least. But that would mean I have to pick a theme. And that would mean I would have to want some huge cyber following instead of just people I know checking in once in a while. I only follow people I know. Why should I expect anything different from people on my blog?

So there it is. Part of who I am, I guess. 23 years old and still figuring it out. I've moved again, and I'm realizing again that I still don't know what I want to be. This is related because if I made a topical blog, what would it be? I don't have an answer to that. There's not much really defining about me that I would choose to write about regularly.

I guess that's why I named this thing Adventurage. So I can write about all my life's adventures - the big and the small. And it's okay that not many people read it.

This post probably isn't really about blogging at all. It's about an existential crisis or something. Feeling like I don't know who I am or what is really important to me. Feeling like a lame person when someone asks what I like to do for fun and I don't have any ready answers. Sigh. I think I should just go to bed...

Oh, don't get too worried. I know the sun will shine again (it hasn't been here in the Lower Mainland lately). I also know that the sun is still there - even when I can't see it. Kind of like God. I guess it will all be well again...Even if I forget that on the cloudy days.

Isaiah 30:18

But the Lord still waits for you to come to him so he can show you his love and compassion. For the Lord is a faithful God. Blessed are those who wait for him to help them.

What a Day!

Today was one of those days... definitely an adventure. First off, I got a bank account. Yep, no more transfer fees for me! I've got Canadian money. To go along with that, I think I've got myself a job. With Spartan (Trinity Western's mascot) Athletics Event Staff. I have to do some paperwork, but I've already volunteered to work at the soccer games this weekend. Yay! Praise the Lord for his provision. I was starting to get worried about a job.

In between the bank and the work meeting, I had class. This entailed biking to school - in the drizzle. I decided not to call my friend for a ride or take the bus. Nope, Adrianna Eliz was going to try biking in the rain to see how bad it was. I did turn around to grab extra pants at least. But after 20 minutes, I was still wet everywhere except under my new waterproof jacket! (Thanks, Mom and Dad :) )

Because of trying to dry myself with paper towels in the bathroom (ahem, washroom, as it's called in Canada), I was late to class. Oops. : S

So, class ends, I do some homework, enjoy the fact that my bottom has mostly dried (dry underwear would have been a good thing to pack as well as the pants), and go to the work meeting. I get out of the meeting and make my way back to the CanIL bike rack. I load up my backpack (thankful that it's no longer raining) and set off. Wait, what's that squeaky sound? Must be the plastic bag and backpack combo on my bike rack. Something is rubbing. Adjust, adjust. Still squeaking... Guess I'll just have to man up and wear my backpack again. Hmmm, still squeaking. I look down and see that it's the tire. Flat. Sigh... It's after 5 so I can't go to the maintenance shop. Bus time!

I am SO glad that I rode the bus in Nicaragua, and that Ruth (my hostess/landlady/friend's mom) and I chatted about how the bus system here works. My first solo bus experience in the States. The bus from the airport doesn't count. This was an actual public transit bus! Well, I had to walk a few blocks, but I made it back to the house just fine.

Then, to top off the evening on a happy note, Jayme (housemate/friend's sister) and I got sushi. Dannii made me drive her stick shift car. We didn't die, and we didn't stall. And the sushi was delicious! All in all, an adventurous day!

Newsy

I'm home for a couple of weeks. Well, home is a stretch of the word. In the first place, I hardly ever come to Indiana anymore. I've said goodbye to my childhood house three times now because my parents predict their move any month now (it will still be a while...). I'm more like a guest visiting when I come home now. Furthermore, these past three weeks, I have only been home three nights. Yes, folks, we are living on the job.

How did I get here? Well, the last time I checked in, I was taking finals and getting a new student visa. My brother visited me the last week of class, and I really enjoyed having him there. I liked that he got to meet my friends and see my new world in BC. Then we drove through the night on Friday to get to my grandparents' house in southern Alberta on Saturday morning. We spent a few days with the fam in Alberta (my dad's side), and we left on Wednesday. Dirk went to school in Iowa, and I went back to Indiana to work for a couple of weeks.

Since August 17, I've been living in a lake house. It sounds glamorous, but it's really not. We live in the two rooms we haven't torn apart. We are remodeling the house. I have decided that I like trim carpentry much better than remodeling or construction in general. Plus, I have gotten soft from my days behind a desk. The guys at school treat me like a girl, so I'm not used to lifting and digging and toting... It's tiring, this work stuff! :)

But it's not all work and no play. Since Tuesday, my five year old cousin stayed with us. He had a great time swimming in the lake, building a barn from scrap lumber, and hanging out with us. I got to take him to a steam museum on Saturday, and then we went to our church's Summer Celebration with a rock climbing wall, booths with crafts, free food, etc. It was a good time! Plus, I really enjoyed spending some time with this adorable little guy.

So what's next? Well, working this week, then going to Tennessee for a cousin's wedding. From TN I'll fly back to the Pacific Northwest and start classes after Labor Day. Yeah, more school. I'm doing the Master's program for Linguistics and Exegesis. We'll see what happens after that. :) Busy, busy, apparently.

I thought I would be settled by now. I would have liked to pick a place and start making a life. One where I didn't have to say goodbye all the time. Other people are used to it. They make comments to me about my jet-setting ways and say I've always been a traveler. Perhaps that's true, but I'd really like a home base. It's strange to only have places to visit. And so many loved ones scattered all over... Sigh. I will have to keep following Jesus and trusting that he has a good path for me even though it's not the one I would have preferred.

Borders

I'm thankful for a new visa that lets me study in Canada for the next three years! And for my friend, Dannii, who parked on a side road waiting for me to walk into immigration and looked sketchy at the border. Canada, looks like you're stuck with me for a while.

Yay for visiting people and going home. Boo for saying goodbye. It's been a good summer, and now we're crossing into new territories. Three classes down, one to go. Plus packing, cooking, cleaning, and hanging out. School is out for the summer, and we get a short respite before it starts again. All sorts of frontiers are being crossed - literally and figuratively.

It's both hard and good that I'm living these transitions over and over again. I'm learning that Jesus is my Home. The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want. He is enough... at least, I'm praying he will be when I say goodbye to some dear people tomorrow. We are sojourners, but we do not go alone. Good thing.

Mumford and Sons

I love the song by Mumford and Sons called White Blank Page. It has some interesting words, great music, and knock-my-socks-off harmony. When my friend in college first introduced me to Mumford and Sons, that was the song that hooked me.

Tonight, I found myself listening to it again. This time, the scene was different from a college dorm room and a computer. I was going home from Dannii's house with three guys in the car. As we zipped through the empty streets of the town, we listened to Mumford and Sons filling the car with music. Our voices joined in, and let me tell you - I really like listening to male voices sing. Not in a weird way. It just sounds good, especially on one of my favorite songs. I stopped singing and just listened and watched them in the car with me.

"Lead me to the truth and I
will follow you with my whole life....
tell me now where was my fault,
in loving you with my whole heart?"

I realized that I really do love these guys with my whole heart. I was surprised by the affection I feel for them. It's not romantic. They are all taken anyway. But we put our hearts on the line, and I chose to love these people even though it was only for a short time. Someone said that these friendships, like flowers, are beautiful especially because of their brevity.

My friends at CanIL have taken my heart, and it's bittersweet to think that this is the end of our time together. I have really enjoyed the summer, and my friends here have made a huge difference in that. They have challenged me to think differently. I have realized that other people speak about concepts in different terms than I do, and I am learning to have a fuller view of life, friendship, God, grammar... I appreciate them for the fun times of hanging out, the help on homework, the moments where we've shared what's important to us.

Sitting in the back seat, singing and listening, I realized that these moments are precious. Sometimes I want to hang onto them, but I can't. We all move on, taking the next steps, being faithful to what the Spirit asks of us. I treasure these friends, late nights, and good music.

Heart...Ahhh....
(listen to the song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sw-ko6aINI4)

A quote given by Hannah Cooper...

"Following Jesus is simple, but not easy. Love until it hurts, and then love more." 

~Mother Teresa

Things That Make My Day at CanIL

At CanIL, these are a few of my favorite things! with pictures to boot :)

This is my roommate, Brenda B. She made a moose (with Jannel) for Canada Day. It was a piñata. Oh yeah!

Charles (on the right in the burgundy shirt) has some of the best facial expressions - makes me laugh a lot.

Keilan (on the left, in black and purple), is funny, too. He's from Lethbridge - close to my people! It makes my day that he frequently closes his eyes and nods in class (but he hears everything - according to him!)

Dannii Johnson. Period.

(I'm going to live with this girl this fall!)

Chris flutters his eyelashes sometimes. Accidentally, though. 

He is a very tall Minnesotan who likes to cook, bake, and make sarcastic comments.

Mike (the one in the baseball hat and gray) straightens his desk a lot during class.

His son, Tobias, has crazy blue eyes that are opened very wide...almost all the time.

This is Morgan, my TA for phonetics class. I really like phonetics. Morgan's pretty cool too. 

In this photo he was being a "dictator" for a phonetics class skit the Staff at CanIL put on for us students.

This is the CanIL building on Trinity Western's campus. It's where I spend my scholarly time. 

Several things that make my day happen here, such as:

I can get coffee for $0.25

Breakfast for free! Either at ACTS (the seminary, once a month) or CanIL (Saturdays)

Free candy in class or at the front desk (good stuff, too! like chocolate...mmm)

In Grammar class, for an example of transitivity during the Voice and Valence lecture, we looked at example sentences like, "I drink beer, I drank 2 beers, and I went beer-drinking." Oh yes. :)

Lindsey (pictured above) creeped me on facebook when she noticed we had a mutual friend - and told me that when she introduced herself to me. lol
Also, she and her roommate Amber have great accents that they use with each other.

My mom sent me the best cake of my life (at least, that I can remember) for my birthday! :)
Even though they're not here, I like my family quite a bit. Talking with them makes my day.

Peter and I pick on each other a lot. He's a cool dude. And he's very generous with his car.

I live here, and while dorm life took some adjusting, I like it now, especially for:

The boys' haiku board on second floor

Notes and quotes on the girls' third floor whiteboards

I learned how to make homemade bread! And I've made it several times! Thanks to Peter.

Peter's, Chris's, and Anthony's (pictured above) sunburns (neck up) after weekend camping.

Big Sky postal district got swallowed up by the Dakota district (funny in itself) so Brenda had to go take a test to get her Montana job again. Just before the test, this is what she was doing. Yup, that's my roommate!

These are just a few examples of the stuff I love about being here at CanIL. Although I complain sometimes, it's a great place with great people. 

God is good, all the time!

Friends

I’m kind of persnickety about the word “friend.” Just ask some of mine… I have a whole hierarchy of relationships.  Well, at least I used to. I told my friends during my first year at Dordt about my friend system. At that time, I thought that I had to have meaningful conversations with a “friend” regularly, like every six weeks or so. Or, alternatively, I had to have been friends with them for a long time. So, the equation for a “friend” was heart-to-heart + length of relationship = friend.

I would have been hesitant to really think about people as true friends if I’d known them less than a month. Or something like that. I guess I often think that the majority of people, once we get to know each other after basic introductions, will not continue to be friendly.

I am learning that’s not true.

I have been making friends here at CanIL even though we know we will only be together 9 weeks. I don’t know how some of these friendships will survive, but I’m trusting God with that part. I’m still giving them my heart. Sometimes I’m caught off guard by these friendships, but they remain. I cannot deny that people here are my friends, really and truly, despite whatever restrictions I may want to put on the word. How else can I explain these people? They threw me a birthday party and bought me a bike! They ask me to do things with them. They forgive me when I’m crabby or have no filter on the things I say. They make me laugh, and they let me cry. These people encourage each other, support each other, pray for each other. Whether or not it’s advantageous for them, they spend time with me. They are friends.

So are the people scattered around the world that I love. Sometimes I don’t talk to them for months, but they are still my friends, somehow. Yes, there are different levels of friendship, I’m sure, but I cannot say they are not my friends. The more I get to know people, the more I realize that they mess up my neat categories. Friends cannot be put in an itemized list of requirements. They are gifts, gifts from my truest friend, Jesus.

Really, friendship is about unconditional love. People love you and you love them for no explainable reason. You do things with and for them, simply because you want to. I did a psychology  project about friends, and the explanations left a lot to be desired. Why are people friends? I happen to think it’s because we are loved by the greatest Friend of all. Through all of these people in my life – these friends – I learn more about love (God) and who He is, and how I can be a good friend to others.

      A friend loves at all times. 

      He is there to help when trouble comes.

        ~Proverbs 17:17 NIRV

Herded

If the Lord is my Shepherd, that makes me a sheep. Yup, I can agree with that. I have definitely been herded lately. Let me share some news with you: I have decided to stay in British Columbia for the next 2-3 years to study for a master’s degree in linguistics and exegesis. I don’t have a plan further than that (surprise, surprise), but I know the next step.

A lot of things seem right about this decision. People in my life whose opinions I value have encouraged me to get a master’s degree. My goal has not been to go to grad school, but it appears that my expectations are not always accurate. I’ve been convinced that a master’s degree would be good, and I would really enjoy studying linguistics more. Also, I have always wanted to learn the original languages of the Bible, and studying exegesis will give me that opportunity. I will receive a seminary degree so my options in ministry are still open even though linguistics is part of the package.

A lot of opportunities have arisen while I have been deciding what to do. The financial aid here is really good, and some unexpected money has come to me through other people and jobs I’ve been given (like more hours and higher pay at Dordt). I have good options for housing, and the Lord has given me transportation! I like the community here at CanIL, and it is a great bunch of people with whom to spend the next chunk of life. Although I’m not sure what comes after studying, Bible translation is an option, and I can witness that field first hand here.

Finally, this decision seems right to me because I am not totally in love with the idea. British Columbia is nice, but it makes me feel a bit hemmed in. Langley is the closest thing to a city that I’ve ever lived in, and the Trinity Western campus is kind of isolated. I can’t simply hop on my bike and go whizzing through the streets of subdivisions here. I hardly ever see the stars because the clouds and trees are in the way. I always hear traffic. Yes, there are beautiful vistas and such, but sometimes I need wide open spaces…

Call me a plains girl, I guess.

Before I came, I was worried that I would decide to stay here because it would be the easiest option. I thought I would absolutely love it, and I wouldn’t want to leave regardless of where God was leading. My complaints about BC convince me even more that this is not just my idea. God is definitely nudging me. He’s opening doors, and He’s inviting me to follow regardless of my hesitations and objections. If I really believe that I won't lack anything, I guess I can put my worries about sunshine and openness and travel and work and everything else aside. I will be provided for. 

Thanks for praying for me. I cannot deny God's leading even though it hasn't been a clarion call from the sky. I still don't know what's ahead, but I have been inexplicably nudged in this direction. Herded, prodded, led.The Lord is my shepherd, and he leads me.

23

"The Lord is my shepherd,
I shall not be in want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures,
He leads me beside quiet waters,
He restores my soul."

Oh yes. Psalm 23 is a poem/prayer that is close to my heart, and it is being fulfilled in my life. My birthday was a great day despite the fact that I went to school for the first time in my life on my birthday. People at CanIL made me feel special and celebrated. People called, texted, and emailed throughout the day to let me know they were thinking about me. I felt celebrated and loved (thus, I have decided that anyone who feels depressed should have a birthday, at least, as long as they have people as cool as I do in their lives).

In the evening a group of friends went to my friend Dannii's house. We had a great time hanging out, eating candy, playing games, doing homework, cooking food, and eating! I really enjoyed the gathering. It hadn't been planned as a birthday party, but it seemed to end up that way, and I was honored. While we were eating, they brought me a bucket, and when I pulled out the recyclables, I found a bike helmet! It is a beautiful helmet with fuschia and silver designs on it. I was thrilled!

That was not the end of the gift, though. They told me there was something to go with the helmet and they led me outside to my outbursts of disbelief and surprise. The garage door opened... A bike! A bunch of people from CanIL had pitched in to get me a bike for my birthday! I was completely surprised and overjoyed!

I have been missing my bike a lot here in BC. I was planning to get one somehow, but I hadn't put any effort into the search. I had mentioned to God that I would really appreciate a bike and helmet in passing, but I wasn't expecting anything yet. My friends here in BC not only acted as fantastic friends, but they have also been the instruments of God. The Lord is meeting my needs and even my wants. He leads me on good paths, preparing a feast for me that I did not expect or deserve. My parents also told me we are going to figure out something for a phone for me as my gift! Again, not expecting this generosity.

The best part about my birthday was not the actual presents (although those were great ways that God answered my requests) but the way that I felt loved. I've only known people in BC for a month, and they were SO loving and generous. My family and friends that I have known for a long time also made me feel very special and loved. My heart is warm, no - bursting!

Yes, this will be a great year. The Lord is my Shepherd. I will lack nothing. I am so thankful for all the people Jesus uses to be his hands and lips to kiss and hug and love me. What more can I say? I am overwhelmed by these gifts I don't deserve or expect - grace.

Come, exalt the Lord with me, for he is good, and his love endures forever. Hope revives and grace abounds.

Here I Raise My Ebenezer

Today is my birthday. Birthdays make me reflect on the past year. I'm always amazed by how much has happened and how where I am now isn't where I thought I'd be a year ago. Birthdays also remind me of how good God is.

Every year, I have a "theme" psalm. I started when I was 15, and the psalm correlates with my age. So this past year, I focused on Psalm 22. As I read it as my "year" psalm for the last time last night, I was amazed by how many verses spoke into my life over the past year. There have been hard times. When I was 21, I really wrestled with God over some things, and I was ready for verses 1 and 2 that ask God why he has forsaken me, crying out to him. But then there is hope. The Holy One is still enthroned despite my questions and heartbreaks.

I come from a family of faith. Verses 4-5 testify to my family's faith in God; they have not been disappointed by the Faithful one. From the time I was born, I was thrust upon the Lord. He has been my God from the womb, just like Psalm 22:9-11 says.

In the past year, I have been afraid. I have felt surrounded by beasts that are threatening me. Just the future can feel like a bull charging at me. In the midst of uncertainties and hard lessons, I have felt weak, like my heart has turned to wax and there is nothing left of me. But the Lord has not been far off, he has rescued me.

Therefore, I will declare the goodness of the Lord to others. I have tried and will continue to try to live my life for the glory of the Lord. He has not left me alone. As I look at the coming year and keep exploring what God has for my life, I wonder how Psalm 22-31 will look in my life. I'm considering ministry or Bible translation. Perhaps God will use my gifts in a very practical way to praise him in the great assembly. Future generations will be told about and serve the Lord. They will proclaim his righteousness to a people yet unborn - for He has done it. May God use me as He will in the coming year(s) of my life, and may He use you, too.

²⁴ For he has not despised or disdained
   the suffering of the afflicted one;
he has not hidden his face from him
   but has listened to his cry for help.

 ²⁵ From you comes the theme of my praise in the great assembly;
   before those who fear you^[e] will I fulfill my vows.
²⁶ The poor will eat and be satisfied;
   they who seek the LORD will praise him—
   may your hearts live forever!
²⁷ All the ends of the earth
   will remember and turn to the LORD,
and all the families of the nations
   will bow down before him,
²⁸ for dominion belongs to the LORD
   and he rules over the nations.

²⁹ All the rich of the earth will feast and worship;
   all who go down to the dust will kneel before him—
   those who cannot keep themselves alive.
³⁰ Posterity will serve him;
   future generations will be told about the Lord.
³¹ They will proclaim his righteousness
   to a people yet unborn—
   for he has done it.

Why do I love Jesus?

Sometimes I feel like a fish out of water here at CanIL. A Christian Reformed girl in the midst of people with very diverse faith backgrounds. I was very excited to meet a guy who knew who Abraham Kuyper was and seemed to have a high opinion of him. I’m not usually a person who puts a LOT of emphasis on denominational affiliations, but here, when I feel alone, it’s more important. I think it’s the knowledge that people from the same denomination understand a way of thinking and share a common background with me. I feel more “at home” with them.

It’s not just a way of thinking, though, that’s different. People from other faith backgrounds have a different way of speaking. Others’ willingness to speak about Jesus and what God is doing in their lives makes me think about how I can explain my faith more, too. A lot of times I feel like I do not voice my beliefs very well or very readily. So I find myself revisiting questions like, “What is my testimony? Why do I love Jesus?”

Many times I feel like I do not have good answers to these questions. I don’t have a dramatic conversion story. I didn’t see a lightning bolt from heaven that told me to be a missionary or anything. I’m being herded, as I explain it. I do not have a plan for the future. God has called me to follow him and be faithful, and CanIL is where I sense him nudging me. I’m not always happy about it. I don’t feel adequate for what I seem to be undertaking. I can’t even explain my faith or why I’m a Christian. I don’t have a story that will wow the crowd and convince anyone I meet to believe in Jesus.

And yet. As I was walking by the pond, pondering why I love Jesus, the answer came to me. I love Jesus because he first loved me. He chose me. I have a heritage of faith that I cannot deny, and I am a product of God’s work  - not only in my own life but also in my parents’ and grandparents’ lives. When I think of the stories of God’s grace in my parents’ lives, awe comes over me. God has done great things! I can’t tell their stories of grace, but I am a part of it. Jesus amazes me in the ways He has worked in my dad’s and mom’s lives.

Perhaps, then, I am a bit like Samuel. I’m not saying my parents prayed for me and dedicated me to the Lord (they haven’t told me that as part of my story directly, at least), but they have in some senses. They have always told me that I am God’s child, and they are simply his stewards. They want me to follow Jesus wherever he leads. Because of their influence in my life, my faith has been shaped in unique ways. I think of my faith journey not as a conversion but as a maturation. As I have grown up physically, I have grown spiritually. There have been different milestones in my faith walk that have led me to claim Jesus Christ as my Lord more and more, to become an adult in my faith. Instead of simply riding on the current of my family’s faith, it has become my own source of life as well.

I love Jesus because he first loved me. It’s like a guy who expresses interest in me: often I like him simply because he likes me. The guy’s interest in me sparks an interest in him. Same with Jesus: I did not choose him first. It’s a biblical idea.  1 John 4: 19, “We love because he first loved us.” The Spirit touched my soul mysteriously, the Lord God has wooed my heart, the Savior has taken my hand. I make choices to follow him, to be obedient, and to live my life as if it were not for me but for the fame of the one Israel called I AM. He is teaching me that I do not have to have a plan, but I have to trust that He does. He is herding me like a sheep even if I am not sure we are going where I want to go. I love Jesus because he first loved me, and that's enough.

The Philosopher

I scribbled this at a conference and have been waiting for an opportunity to put my musings on here. Today I phonetically transcribed (wrote out all the sound symbols) this paragraph for a class assignment:

He had a peculiar manner of speaking that both disarmed and charmed his listeners. His voice had strange inflections and slipped into humorous tonalities even when lecturing, which made him interesting to listen to solely on the basis of his voice. He seemed casual and modest even though he already had a doctorate and an impressive resume considering his less-than-thirty years. His philosophical nature was even reflected through his brown suit and untidily mussed hair. He had an engaging way of interrupting himself as he lectured, inserting parenthetical comments. With one hand stuffed in his pocket and the other gesturing figuratively, his tall frame slouched slightly, he seemed approachable and humble even while giving a brilliant and controversial presentation. He was a man with whom one could smoke a pipe, contemplate life, and leave amused. 

Calling

I thought I would know what I was doing with my life by now. In a narrow sense, I mean. Broadly, I think I'm doing exactly what I always thought I would be doing: following God with my heart, trying to give him glory with everything I do. When people ask what I want to do in the future, that's about as defined as the future is for me. I want to be where God wants me, loving life, Jesus, and people.


However, I have no idea what that means as far as where I'll be living, what job I'll be working, or any of the other answers to easy conversational questions people ask. I have been at school in British Columbia for two weeks now, and there have been a lot of introductions. Introductions mean I have to find a good way to say that I have no idea what life will look like for me after August 13 when classes end. Introductions mean everyone sounds confident about the future and puts their best foot forward. Needless to say, these introductions make me stress about the future. How can I not have an answer for all of these people innocently asking me about my plans for the future?


I often idealize God's will for my life (especially in the details, which I think of as that mysterious, spiritual-sounding word "calling") as some magic answer that will make me happy and solve most of life's problems for me. I like to think that if I choose the "right" career, or go out with the "right" guy, or live in the "right" place, God will be happy with me, and I will be satisfied with life. Perhaps that's true. I think there's more to it, though. What a cheap way to look at God!


 A lot of times I think there is only one right answer, and I want to get it "right" (see why I'm good at school? I like right answers). Moreover, I think that God's "right" answer will be clearly posted on a sign in the sky with directions mapped out for the foreseeable future. In Adrianna's mind, that would be the ideal way of receiving messages from the Lord.


BUT. I don't really think life works that way, and Jesus is teaching me more and more that there may not be a "right" answer or a list of instructions that make sense. I thought when I went to Nicaragua, I would discover my purpose for living and know exactly where I was supposed to go after graduating in May. Nope. Then of course, God would reveal the plan for the next 5 years in my last semester of college. Wrong again. Instead, I got the next step: work at Dordt and go to summer classes. And then? Your guess is as good as mine.


It's not so hopeless, though. I think I'm being nudged in certain directions. I'm interested in ministry. I love linguistics, figuring out language, its sounds, its pieces, its function in society. CanIL is a great community to be a part of. Maybe God's calling isn't going to map out the next years for me. I could learn to live with one step at a time. I'm more dependent on God that way, that's for sure. When I don't know my plans the future, I'm much more aware that God is in control. 


I'm realizing, too, that calling isn't necessarily communicated in some divine vision. It could be no one discouraging something I'm drawn to. The Spirit could speak through the encouragements of my professors, friends, and parents. I could be nudged towards things just because I like them and my interests in others things have faded. Perhaps, like some missionaries I heard about here at CanIL, God's calling will come in some seemingly silly way, like spinning a pencil on a piece of paper and choosing the country it lands on most often. 


The process of choosing the next step is one that has led me to identify with shepherding language more easily. I think of Jesus saying to Paul, "It is hard for you to kick against the goads." Sometimes I wonder if I know what I should do all along but I question it so much that I make it harder on myself. Part of my struggle is that I think I should be able to logically argue for why I'm choosing to do something, and God's nudges don't seem to be very logical. I feel like my boundaries are shrinking, but I can't really explain why or how - it's a feeling more than anything. I told someone it feels like the parting of the Red Sea: one path to take. The entire sea is out there, and I could swim wherever I wanted, but right now I just want to walk.


Jesus is the Good Shepherd, and the Gate. I do believe that he will lead me in the right direction. Maybe he won't lead the way I expect, though. I also trust that if I'm going down a path that isn't a the best way, he'll reach out, scoop me up, and take me in his arms the right way. I suppose it could be painful, but I also trust that the Lord will be with me through the tough times. 


Honestly, these past few weeks of adjustment in British Columbia have been kind of hard. Nonetheless, I feel surprisingly joyful, content, and buoyant. I can't explain it. There are a lot of things in life that I experience and I can't explain them I guess that's where I have to simply accept that God is good, all the time, and always faithful. I can't explain it, but I can believe it. I can live trusting, and listening, and being willing to accept it when God doesn't "call" the way I think he should.

Canada, eh?

Yes, I've moved to the great green North. I'm in British Columbia, attending classes at CanIL, a program at Trinity Western University. I live in a dorm (adjustment from apartment living!), cook with my classmates, and study a lot. I'm quite proud of myself, really. The first week is almost over, and I'm still keeping up with all my homework!

It has been a bit of a rough transition. I'm learning to have faith with my heart and my feelings, not just my head. Yes, I know the answers. I know that God is in control. I DO have faith, but my attitudes and emotions don't always line up with that. However, I'm learning. It's getting better.

Today in "Rhythm of Rest" (kind of a contemplative chapel) we focused on the first few verses of John 15. At first, it seems kind of like a warning to me: the branches that don't bear fruit will be cut off. However, as I thought about the words in the passage, I realized it's more of a promise. Jesus is acknowledging that there are parts of the plant that die, but he promises to remain in his followers. They are supposed to remain in him in order to have abundant life. 

In verse 4, Jesus talks about being clean. I thought that was an odd thought to put in, but then I thought of gardening. When my mom tells me to go out and "clean" the yard in the spring, she wants me to rip out the dead branches and cut off the suckers. Jesus tells us that we are already clean because of the word in us... The Word of Life. Jesus has transformed me and made me ready for summer, full of life and delicious fruit. It's not a burden; he's letting me know the work is already done. Chill out, Adrianna. Remain in me. He is a loved one, inviting me to rest in his arms. At least, that's how it came to me today, in the midst of my choppy "adjustment period." He's answering my questions, showing me new things. It's not what I expected, but as long as I remain in the Vine, all will be well - in Canada or anywhere else.

The Words Never Come...

Goodbyes are awful.

There comes a time when I either say everything or nothing, and so I lapse into silence... I leave unsaid the words of appreciation, of love, of confession. I leave unsaid the blessings I pray for them, or the tears I cry for them. In those last moments before the end, the words never come.

The hug signals the end. It's hard because it feels so normal. And yet, when we start walking away from each other, I just want to rush back for one last hug. It's like a song that talks about wishing for "one more day" with a loved one, but in the end, it will leave me wishing for just one more day again.

It feels surreal to say goodbye and not know the next time I will be back. Especially when I want to come back more than anything, but doubt that in reality I will. Besides, a visit is never the same. Things will never be the same. Goodbyes are more than bidding farewell to people. They are a way of leaving "life" as it was.

Goodbyes always make me feel melodramatic, I suppose. It won't be that bad, and I know it. I can visit the people I love, and it's not like I will never come back. One of my friends said, "You travel all over the world, to Nicaragua and Canada - why not Sioux Center?" It's true. I can come back. But still. Sometimes goodbyes are just hard. And the words never come...

What Does God Have to Do with It?

What does God have to do with the plans in our lives?

The group of young people, all Spanish-speaking, sitting around the campfire were silent.

"C'mon," the pastor pushed, "Do you decide what you're going to do? Does God have anything to do with it? Is is all determined for you?"

We were at Sandy Hollow Park for Amistad's youth group. In the midst of the games and food, we stopped to have a devotional time. Several of the youth have graduated high school or are beginning their last year. They (we) are at an age where we can plan and decide what is going to happen next. How much of our lives do we decide... It's something I've been thinking about a lot lately since it seems that I need to make a lot of decisions soon. I have no idea what to do. It's comforting to think that God directs my life, especially when I am uncertain.

I appreciated one girl's answer. She said that we build our lives. We can go about participating in certain things that limit or expand our opportunities. If we've been making the wrong choices, we cannot wake up in the morning and decide to be something completely different. I might say that I want to be a famous soccer player, but if I never practice, I don't even have the option of trying that.

Then Pastor decided to pick on me. "Adrianna, you've graduated from college..." He asked me about my plans. Has everything gone the way I thought it would? No. I think that I determine my life in some ways. I cannot decide that I want to work as an engineer because I know nothing about that field. I have made the choices, however, to study theology and Spanish, and linguistics, and I have options in those fields. I have been making plans that allow me to make other plans. On the other hand, life has not worked out in details that I would have planned. I planned to go to Nicaragua for a semester. I did not plan to have such a hard time with culture shock and getting along with my family and being homesick. I did not expect to be so well-loved at the Nehemiah Center. So in one sense, I make decisions that impact my future, but in another sense, God is the one who plans everything.

Pastor asked if I plan to see Jesus face to face, and if these years of college have deepened my relationship with Him. Yes. It's like a friendship, I said (I spoke very badly - not only my Spanish pronunciation, but the content of what I said...I wish I could say it again, now that I've thought about it). Friendship. We didn't know each other so well at the beginning, I said (well, God knew me, but I didn't know Him). Through the things I have gone through, I have learned to know him more and trust him more. These years of college have taught me to be more okay with not knowing what will happen exactly; I trust him more.

But it's more than that. God has everything to do with my life. On the days when I feel like a failure, he reminds me that he knows the plans he has for me, and everything will work together for good. On the days when I feel ugly and fat and insecure, he reminds me that I am a beautiful young woman, created in his image, with his gifts. The years of my life have taught me about the faithfulness of God. Every time I worry about money, something comes and I know God is reminding me to chill out. Every time I feel overwhelmed, like I can't go on, my schedule frees up a little and I can breathe again. Every time I want to hide in my room and cry, someone gives me a hug or prays for me. When I can't go on in my own strength, Jesus comes alongside me with his word and his people and tells me it will be okay.

I often don't live like God has a lot to do with my plans. Yes, I say I'm trusting him with my future, but it's almost like a cop-out answer. I forget the big picture so often. That what I choose to do is not really about me at all, but about what will bring God glory. I forget that the reason I care so much about making the right decisions in life is because I have been transformed by Christ. He has forgiven me for all my stupid mistakes. For the words I forgot to say, and the words I said poorly.

Being a Christian sometimes feels really stupid. It's not logical. In certain communities, it seems like the easy answer to life. I get disgusted with myself sometimes. But it's at a campfire with a bunch of Hispanic kids from Amistad who really need to hear what God is doing in people's lives, it's there that I remember why this faith stuff means so much to me. It's when I hear the story of God calling Samuel, touching his heart and life in a way no one had planned, it's then that I get excited about how God works. Being a Christian does not make sense, but having a relationship with Jesus Christ, that makes sense. It's worth it. I remember how it feels to be loved. To trust in someone and believe that I am well-loved. God has everything to do with my plans.

Here I am, Lord. Your servant is listening.

Send Me a Girl who Reads

I think I have a slight crush on Donald Miller. Regardless of what he looks like or how old he is. I love the way he writes, his voice. It's full of description and poetry and everyday genuineness, and I love reading his books. I just finished Through Painted Deserts. It's amazing how much time I have to read now that I no longer have homework to do.

In two weeks, that will change. But for now, I'm enjoying the down time. Except for the fact that everyone in Sioux Center is realizing that I am going away to British Columbia in two weeks, and they are suddenly all inviting me to do things. Let's not kid ourselves, though; I love the busyness too.

Back to Donald Miller: I have often found that he expresses things that I have been thinking, but don't know how to say. Or his reflections let me know that I am not the only one in the world who thinks about things a certain way. When I read Don Miller's stuff, I am reminded of wonder. Wonder at God's presence, at his creation. Wonder at my own insignificance. Wonder at how a Being so big and incomprehensible limits itself to know and care about me. Don Miller reminds me why I think that having a relationship with Jesus is important.

Another author who reminds me of the beauty and excitement is Ann Kiemel (now Anderson). My mom gave me two of Ann's books at Christmas. Apparently, this lady was popular back in the 80s. She writes in a reflective, poetry/prose way, and I love it! Her reflections on life and faith and what God is doing also remind me why I want to follow Jesus. Like Ann says, I serve a BIG GOD, and he can do awesome things through me.

I have decided that reading is good for me. I easily become bogged down in the details of my life, and I can get tired and frustrated and discouraged. I feel anxious about the future, or I just fret a lot because I have a lot of questions and only time will provide the answers. When I read, I have something else to focus on. More than that, I have something that draws me into a bigger picture of life. Reading is like sharing someone else's story, and seeing how it fits with my own. When I read, I'm reminded of the kind of person I want to be, the kinds of things I want to focus on, the kinds of things I want to learn about.

In short, my advice is this: find a good book, a good author, sit down in the silence, and be inspired.

All Will Be Well

One of my friends winked at me this week. No, it was not suggestive (he's quite committed to his girlfriend), and no, I did not feel creeped out. Actually, it made me feel quite good. We were sitting in a seminar, eating pizza and presenting what we learned this semester, and when our eyes met, he winked. Perhaps he didn't even mean to, but I caught it. Then I was thinking about what other people might think if they had been winked at, and why I immediately like it so much when someone winks at me.

I decided I like winks (and usually it doesn't matter who it comes from or how - I always like them) because of my childhood. My earliest encounters with winks were sitting in church with my parents. My mom and dad were not the type to be touchy-feely with us in public. They did not reach over and rub our backs during the sermon or put their arms around us very often. However, they winked. I used to tuck my arm through one of theirs, and - I remember this best from Mom - they would look at me and wink. That non-verbal communication told me it was all right. It was a look of approval, of love, of assurance. When someone winks at me, it makes me think they approve of me, with a "fun" connotation.

Today I was sitting in church again, but not next to my parents this time. We were having communion, and I was thinking about the many ways I have messed up again this week. How many times I've said the wrong thing, ignored or embarrassed people, focused too much on myself and not enough on others... I didn't feel very good about myself today, and I wondered how God felt about me. But then we heard and sang about the forgiveness that Jesus has given us. He covered all my mistakes completely.

The pastor talked about how Jesus showed the disciples his wounds. He was not completely healed after the resurrection, as if nothing had happened. No. He had the scars, and he showed them readily to his followers. I hadn't thought of that before. I think of Isaiah's words: He was wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquity... And by his wounds, we are healed.

God forgives me. And knowing that, I shared the Lord's Supper with the rest of the broken people there. It was like a wink from God. Yes, we should take Communion seriously, I realize. But it's something tangible that reminds us that God approves of us - through Christ. It's like me coming before him, knowing he might reject me, and receiving the wink, the look that tells me I'm loved and accepted - in a "fun" way.

The peace of the Lord be with you. Amen.

Regional accents

Have you ever noticed how different regions speak differently? I mean this in a geographical accent way, but also in a "circles you travel" way. Each community shapes the way people talk. It's interesting how easily we pick up the "accent."

When I read books, I start thinking in the cadence of the books I read. My favorite types of books generally have a similar style or tone. Donald Miller's Blue Like Jazz or Marilynne Robinson's Gilead. They have a reflective, casual tone that has a musical cadence. Thoughtful, yet humorous. Many times when I'm in the midst of reading these kinds of books, I find myself thinking in similar patterns. It's the same if I am listening to an audio book with an accent - I start thinking with that accent and the patterns of speech of what I am engrossed in.

Academic communities have the same thing. People who study the same things and read the same sorts of books start getting their own jargon, their own manner of expressing ideas. Sometimes this is a highbrow, convoluted type of speech. Sometimes it is teaching and self-interruptions with examples. Sometimes it focuses on people, sometimes ideas, sometimes other books, sometimes...a whole host of things.

The beauty of these different accents is the way they shape us and the communities we are a part of. Few people belong to only one speech community. It's a beautiful thing when we can "translate" between our communities, joining, for instance, theory and practice, or anything else that seems to be juxtaposed (yes, I did just go to a conference at Princeton and feel the need to express myself in higher vocabulary lol).

Thinking about all this during the past weekend, I feel like I had more to add. But the travel has wiped my mind clean. Perhaps there will be more to follow. Perhaps not. In the mean time, enjoy the different ways we talk. Marvel at the speech communities you're a part of. And read some good books.