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.