This Time Around

Well, I have somehow managed to find myself unemployed in New York City for the 3rd time since moving here. Everything seemed to work itself out the first two times, so I'm trying not to sweat this one, abrupt as it came.

So what happened was that I've been working at a boys' shelter in Brooklyn for the past 4 months, and they pretty much yanked me and transferred me to their Bronx location against my will. I tried going into it with an open mind, but after 5 days of having to leave my apartment at 4am for the 2 hour commute the quick split was inevitable. So that leaves me here in my apartment at 11:49 on a Monday afternoon typing away in my long-neglected but soon-to-be-revived blog. Still trying to figure out how I feel about the way things worked out. A little bitter that I was basically forced to quit due to circumstances I had no control over, a lot relieved that I don't have to go back to work there again, a little excited by the adventure of such unexpected change and of course a little nervous about financial sustenance in the meantime. Underlying all there exists a peace from God that has been quite foreign to me over the past 5 months, and I am grateful for its return.

My gameplan for this week is to take it easy and to enjoy myself and the city. To regroup and address all of the things in my life that have been neglected since September: mail, bills, phone calls, e-mails, books, thank you notes, friendships...you get the idea. A couple months ago I started making a list of some things that I want to but still haven't gotten around to doing since moving here. Kari and I already did one of them this morning which was eat at the local Puerto Rican joint next door to us.....that's right....next door to us....and we've lived here 2 and a half years...and just now ate there today. Anyways, Casa Adela turned out to be quite scrumptious and quite cheap...better late than never I guess. Later on today I plan on heading down to the National Museum of the American Indian (also on the list). After visiting a reservation one summer in college and taking American Indian History the following semester I've had a soft spot for our native peoples.

So my theory in all of this is that if I take a week or so to do what I enjoy then some job ideas and opportunities are bound to flow out of that. And if not, well there's always Starbucks. Like I said, I'm trying not to sweat it. I need to take some time and really thank all the people in my life that are so good to me, and especially those who have listened to my whining and stuck with me through these past few depressive months. I swear it's a wonder that I still have friends.

Romans 8:13-27

"For if you live according to the sinful nature, you will die; but if by the Spirit you put to death the misdeeds of the body, you will live, because those who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God. For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship. And by him we cry, "Abba, Father." The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God's children. Now if we are children, then we are heirs--heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory.

I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. The creation waits in eager expectation for the sons of God to be revealed. For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God.

We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hpes for what he already has? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.

In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with goans that words cannot express. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God's will."

Memo to all the Single Folk

I really just wrote this for my own sanity (and not for public viewing), but then I figured what the hell. So, for what it's worth...

MEMO TO ALL DUDES: Regardless of whatever you have built up in your head about me (and females in general), if you were to ask me on a date I would not shortly thereafter be expecting a princess cut diamond ring and your hand in marriage. In fact, just to prove my point, it doesn’t even have to be a date. What I (and I speak for many other females) am asking for is a conversation. We can freaking sit next to the drunk guy on my front steps for half an hour for all I care. So before you get ahead of yourself thinking I’m already naming our unborn children, I will spare you the guessing game. I’m not asking for much here: maybe just how many siblings you have or how work is going or what you like to do when you’re not working. When you don’t ask us out due to your pre-conceived notions of what a “date” means to us, you, in fact are guilty of the exact same thing of which you accuse. There is definitely a verse somewhere in the Bible about that.

MEMO TO ALL DUDETTES: If you think you may be interested in a guy (which may happen on numerous occasions) please be real with yourself about the source and intensity of the attraction. Chances are you know very little about him….that he’s cute, he’s from such and such city, works for such and such company and seems to have some kind of sense of humor judging from the sarcastic comment he muttered under his breath the other day. Sounds simple enough, but the problem is that us girls love to play pretend in our heads….it’s like some crazy internal wiring we have going on that makes us really good at relationships but can also get us into a whole lot of trouble. So even though you want to assume he’d be a great father one day because he talked to the little boy in the elevator….don’t go there. Just don’t. I know it’s hard because it’s against our very nature, but guys can sniff this out from a mile away and they freak out and refuse to initiate any sort of hang-out or activity that could possibly be labeled as a “date”. My advice: be cool….even when your insides are screaming otherwise….be cool. Then guys won’t feel the pressure that tends to lead to their general withdraw from the female population.

So now that we have hopefully cleared the air of misconceptions and false expectations, my hope is that the ancient art form of dating (or maybe we should just develop a new word for it) will begin to make its comeback.

Next-Step Search: Day 1

Yesterday as I was running I was doing some thinking (because I try to focus on everything besides the actual fact that I'm running) and came up with this novel idea that I should blog my job-searching journey....mostly to hold myself accountable to actually making progress on a daily basis. Plus, I think it will be kind of fun. I'm calling it my next-step search because it sounds a little more all-encompassing, like the future's wide open....which it is.

First I must step back and explain why, from a spiritual perspective, this is a ripe time for me to be in the market for change, especially career related. I feel like my journal entry from May 5th articulates it best:
"So I've come to this conclusion that life is always going to be in some sort of state of "overwhelming"--because it's life...and there's always stuff going on and there will always be a million areas trying to be in perfect balance with each other but never quite making it. Just when you're physical health is coming together, your financial situation is falling apart. And just when you've mastered the art of budgeting, some relationship needs reconciling. You see what I mean? For as long as we live there will always be loose ends that have been sewn up, others that need to be tied and some right on the verge of unraveling.

This is precisely why the old Jennifer was in a constant state of feeling overwhelmed, stressed out and worried. Because I saw the reality but just couldn't accept it...

I have now progressed into the very liberating phase of acceptance....of myself and the state of the world. Perfection exists only in the one who defined it in the first place. So if something is to be redeemed to the state it was created for, that will only be through Him and no amount of my "trying", however relentless that may be."

So basically instead of proving myself (which is exhausting and a set-up for failure), I simply have to be myself...and trust that that's enough. Amazing what a little adjustment of perspective can do.

Ok, so back to the task at hand. Day 1 was awesome. I could really get used to this unemployment gig. Here's the rundown:

- Woke up early and got a personal tour of the New York Stock Exchange by my friend that works there. I got to go on the trading floor and meet some folks who apparently are "kind of a big deal" in the financial world. It was awesome.

- Got home and made myself a scrumptious brunch of scrambled eggs, salad, English muffin, strawberries, coffee and OJ....wow, that's a lot of food when you see it written down.

- read Psalm 108 and thanked God for lots of things....namely that his "love reaches to the heavens" even on my worst days.

- e-mailed about 5 job contacts and managed to set up 2 informational interviews for the week

- worked on the ole' May budget--realized I should probably not buy anything for the rest of the month.

- filled in on my friend's volleyball team

- money spent: $2.19 (for one red pepper....that's ridiculous)
- epiphanies: I think I would like to work for myself at some point in life.
I am good at phone conversation.
I am selfish.
My fundraising adeptness has surprised me (see AIDS Walk webpage)
The computer skills could use some work.

Change

So I quit my job and have no backup plan. I gotta' tell you it may be one of the best things that's ever happened to me. Ok, so when I say I have no backup plan, what I really mean is that I have no other job lined up. However, I've saved up a little money and the plan is to take a second and figure out what exactly it is that I'm called to. I don't feel like work and personal life should have to be so separate. They should be overflows of each other. So I want to find a job that feels like that...like something I was created to do.

My last day is May 12th which means I've encountered a major case of "senioritis" at work. I seriously can't focus for more than 10 minute increments...because freedom is right around the corner. I say that now, and then I'm sure in a couple months I'll be posting a whiny blog about how I'm broke and jobless. Such is life...

The craziest thing about all of this is not so much the decision itself, but the internal transformation I've undergone because of it. I've just felt trapped for a long time, like I was going to be stuck in this job forever and stuck in a rut of complacency. So basically something had to change. Some kind of decision had to be made. And it was. And I feel good about it. And in the process of it all I've learned that I really can be a lot of things I think I'm not--spontaneous, unconventional, completely trusting (of God) and most of all confident. For someone who's always done the safe and responsible thing her whole life because she's deathly afraid of failure, a giant leap of faith is what needed to happen. And for someone who is accustomed to feeling anxious and worried on a daily basis, to experience such peace and surety can only be evidence of the supernatural at work.

So that's that. I may fail miserably and find myself not being able to afford rent in a few months. And that's ok. In fact, it may even be good for me. To know that failure doesn't have the same power over me that it had before. I'm excited to see where this story goes.....and equally joyful in the sharing of it...

It's the Little Things...

Some Fun and Random Happenings as of Late:

1. I was riding on the bus w/ my client in the Bronx one day and the bus driver led us all in a chorus of "The Wheels on the Bus go 'Round and 'Round" in efforts to get this little girl to stop crying. Never have I seen so many hardcore black-wearing Bronxonians (I just made that word up) smile at once. Mad props to you, Mr. Bus Driver Man!!

2. So we had this whole package of brown sugar that was completely hardened. Naturally, as I always do in such predicaments, I googled my solution and learned that putting a piece of foil and damp paper towel on top of the clumps will soften them right up. So I did, and I waited...day one..still solid as a rock....day two same deal....day three I go to throw out the sugar in despair but alas it has softened and is the most beautiful thing I have ever laid eyes on. Ok, so that might be a slight exageration but seriously I have been incorporating brown sugar into every meal since that glorious day....simply because I can. Sure I could have just given up, thrown it out and bought a new package. But the effort makes it taste all the better. I thought of all these great life analogies that are reflected in the brown sugar incident, but I shall spare you the sentimental details for now.

3. My friend Sarah from A&M just moved across the street from me (literally). She would e-mail and call last year to ask questions as she deliberated the move here. And, as fate would have it, a year later we're neighbors in the big apple.

4. I dated (and I use that term lightly) a Polish dude that I met on the subway. I know, I know...very New York, and/or very ridiculous depending on how you look at it. Needless to say it didn't work out. No more picking up dates on public transportation.

5. Took the Chinatown bus to Baltimore and reconnected with a long lost high school friend who I hadn't seen in 4 years. We did a little kareoke-ing, a little shopping, a LOT of eating (Maryland crabs....mmm) and I think we talked nonstop for the entire 3 day weekend....loved every minute.

6. Went ice skating (w/ my friend Claire) for the first time since Bonnie Cooper's birthday party in 2nd grade...and I didn't even bust it once...and discovered that Park Slope, Brooklyn is freakin' awesome.

7. Had a "throw back" Saturday night watching Doogie Howser (yeah, that's right) season 1 w/ Claire and her roomie. I'm not sure what's more ridiculous--the fact that Claire actually ordered it on Netflix or the fact that we spent a Saturday night watching it.

8. I got the privelege of boogeying down with some south Bronx locals at our client Mardi Gras party. One of the clients (who happens to be a black woman) came up and asked me, "Where'd you get yo' rhythm?" Now she may just think that any white girl who can snap her fingers to a beat qualifies as having rhythm, but you better believe I'll be holdin' on to that compliment 'til I go dancin' into my grave.

9. This month is currently deemed "operation bridesmaid" as I crack down on the healthy eating and prepare to strut my stuff down the aisle at Michelle's wedding next month (side note: I'll be in Dallas Apr.7-9ish for those of you in the vicinity)

10. We had a dog for 2 weeks. His name is Muffinski (don't ask), and he quickly became the heartthrob of Avenue C. We were taking care of him for a friend, and I must say dogs require a lot of attention and early mornings. Basically, I had to come to grips w/ how self-centered I really am. Let's just say I probably don't need to be raising children anytime soon.

11. Jules and I had a good laugh one Friday night when we met some friends at Duvet: the most swanky mcswankster, "Sex and the City"-esque, $12 drink-servin' bar/lounge whatever. Jellyfish aquariums, beds that require reservations , a bar that changes colors and spikey-haired black shirt wearin' bar tenders....boy did I feel right at home.
To counter that, I put all my rhythm to good use dancin' to the hits of the 80's at Culture Club last weekend.

In other random news, I don't care what the thermometer says, today was definitely the coldest and windiest day of the year...and quite possibly of my life. Which is why I'm makin' it a Blockbuster and laundry night on this lovely Friday evening.

I think I'm ready for a new job, maybe something completely different, maybe something corporate. I don't really know. I do know that work's really been taking more of an emotional toll than usual lately. Just in the past couple weeks there's been a miscarriage, foster kid run away from home, suicide attempt, 2 hospitalizatoins, eviction notice, numerous occasions of getting hung up on by feisty and unprofessional welfare workers, pregnant teenager, homeless mother of 4 and the usual doses of anxiety, mental retardation and depression. It's true I've been talking about the job switch for a million years now, but really I'm just a big wuss. I hate resumes and searching and having to "market" myself. The whole game of it makes me want to vomit. Why can't I just be recruited or something, like in sports?

The thing with my job is that you feel as though you've just sprinted a marathon and only moved a foot. And right when you want to throw in the towel you get a tiny grain of hope (this can be related back to the "brown sugar philosphy"), grab the reins, and the whole cycle repeats itself. I don't like to give up, especially not on people. I guess it's a good problem to have but sometimes blurs the understanding of when it's time to move on. So , having put all of that on the table, call me if you're hiring...or if you've received some prophetic message regarding my next career move.

Walking

I just made the 30 min. walk home from my friend Leslie's apartment at 1:00 in the morning. I know that sounds highly unsafe, but seriously I never feel threatened walking around Manhattan at any given hour....now Brooklyn is a whole other story (Julie can vouge for that;). After being in Texas for 2 weeks, walking is one of the many things I missed about New York. I could eat an entire pie and feel like I walked off every calorie by the time I get home. All I'm saying is who needs South Beach and Atkins when you've got the walker-friendly city?

Long weekends are the greatest (thank you Dr. King). A whole extra day to do all those things you wished you would have gotten around to doing as you drag yourself into the office on any given Monday morning. And when the weekend's over, there's still the shortened work week to look forward to.

One of my co-workers came with me to church tonight. And, no, I did not invite her. She approached me. And, not only that, but she wants to come again next week. At some point along the way I came to understand that the power of conversion does not lie in my hands. It's just that sometimes I'm priveleged enough to find myslef in a place where I am able to witness the process unfold. And then sometimes I even get to play a supporting role in the whole experience. Do I think church will cast some special power upon this girl? No, but I think that God will....and I feel like church is a pretty reliable catylist for that whole process. I'm ashamed to admit that all of this sovereignty business often doesn't make me feel any less insecure about saying or doing something that will send this girl running in the opposite direction when she is so close to crossing that line.

The Hand of Providence

I was looking though my old computer files the other day and ran across this excerpt from the first and only entry of a computer journal I attempted to start last year. It made me joyful to look back and see God's hand at work in the uncertain times when you're craving change but aren't quite sure what that looks like. Just wanted to share with you...

6.16.04
"...I suddenly inherited this fresh passion for finding a job in New York, maybe because it'’s looking more and more like a real possibility. Maybe because I realize a little more everyday that I'’ve got to get out of College Station. Maybe a little of everything tugging me in that general direction. I'’ve decided that I must see what my faith looks like outside of the South, away from my daily "fellowship"” and lack of real challenges to the beliefs I hold so dear. I am ready to live...to really live...and to probably suffer in the process."

Rest, continued..

Today was so good.
I got up and went to work this morning to get some stuff out of the way. Now I know you're thinking, "What can be good about working on a Saturday?" Well, not much but it was quiet and free of interruptions. After that I spent an hour talking to a friend of mine who just started teaching in Jordan (yes, the country). We talked about a lot of spiritual doubts and struggles we share. It's always nice to know someone's going through the same things as you.
The weather was beautiful--a perfect fall day to bring an end to a week of continuous rain.
Then I came home and chilled with Kari as we watched our beloved Astros get one step closer to the World Series.
Then I went to the Gotham Comedy Club with this girl from my Bible study named Elizabeth. Afterwards we went to her apartment and sat and talked for a few hours. That's something I've missed here--girl bonding, community building. It was good to remember what that's like.
Then I walked home (in the still-perfect fall weather) just feeling this sense of peace and belonging..a very rare occasion indeed.
So that was my good day. And it wasn't really the weather, baseball or good comedy but rather the company I had that made it so good.
Last week my counselor (yes, I have been going to counseling and no I'm not psychotic) and I talked about my compulsive tendencies and what things seem to distract me from my obssesive "tasking around" (as Kari likes to call it). I told him that when I'm with people, time and to-do lists and everything else seem to fade into the background. I'm just enjoying the moment, the conversation, the feeling of connecting with another person.
I think that's the secret to rest--finding that thing. That thing that makes the "urgent" things seem not so important anymore. That makes you free to be you and gives you that feeling of "this is how the world should be."

Rest

Ridiculous. I haven't written in over 2 months, and writing just so happens to be one of my very favorite things to do. Why are we like that? Or maybe it's just me. New York has brought out the "taskmaster" Jennifer much more than I ever wanted to see. I mean seriously, I'm always doing all these things that I don't really want to do but feel like I "need" to. Somehow I manage to turn normal activities into stressful events. Let's take reading for example. I love to read books, any and all kinds. For me it's like an escape to another world. I read on the subway, on lunch break, at the park and become a part of the story, practically oblivious to the world around me. You'd think I'd do everything possible to hold onto any morsel of oblivion in such a hectic city. Instead I convince myself of the "need" to be up to speed with current events, politics, educational tidbits and what have you so I end up (begrudgingly) reading Newsweek, or a packet from some past training I went to or (and this is no lie) one time I actually read the manual for my laptop on the train ride to work. Who does that? What is this obsession with filling every waking minute of my day with something constructive and productive?

My mind has been wrestling a lot with the issue of resting...why it's needed, recognizing that I don't do it enough and desparately trying to figure out how to change that. I think it's just going to take some practice and a little trial and error. This week is defintely a good time to start with my roomate being out of town. Probably the most difficult challenge for me is finding a space--one that's safe and free of noise, the fear of interruption and time constraints. Meeting those criteria in Manhattan can often be like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Thankfully God is not inhibited by our physical or cultural circumstances--though I often don't feel like I see that power played out as much as I'd like.

There's a Catholic church on 3rd st. that 's open until 8:30, and sometimes I stop in on my way home from work to sit, breathe and remember the bigger picture. No doubt I treasure those moments. The problem is that the times I feel a huge cry coming on or that my sanity is hanging by a thread may not necessarily fall within the hours of 8am to 8:30pm and most likely I will not be happening to walk by an open church at those crucial moments. So, what do you do with that? Well, in my case I've trained myself to hold back the tears, turn off the switch or retreat to stern silent mode [because I know that if anything comes out of my mouth it will not be nice]. I understand now how people become jaded and why New Yorkers carry the stigma of being hard. I'm not saying it's healthy, just that it makes sense.

Right now I'm resting. I'm in the apartment by myself. Avenue C is relatively quiet, and I'm doing something I love (writing) that doesn't feel like a chore. We all need moments like these....and not just once every two months. Often, depending on our circumstances, we must fight for that time and place of rest. Though still trying to overcome that battle, Ifeel blessed in even knowing it's something worth fighting for. As I write this verse keeps running through my head:
"But I am afraid that just as Eve was deceived by the serpent's cunning, your minds may somehow be led astray from your sincere and pure devotion to Christ." (2 Cor. 11:3)
(Some outsiders had come to the church of Corinth preaching a very different Jesus than when Paul had taught, so naturally he was concerned):
"For if someone comes to you and preaches a Jesus other than the Jesus we preached, or if you receive a different spirit from the one you received, or a different gospel from the one you accepted, you put up with it easily enough". (v.5)

Another argument for rest would be that we need time to remember the sacred because, let's face it, from the second I walk out my door in the morning I can't look to very many situations or conversations that point to the real Jesus and His gospel. Unfortunately, on this side of eternity, we will never be completely removed from the influences of this world. Even Jesus, when praying for his disciples, said, "I do not ask that you tke them out of the world, but to keep them from the evil one" (Jn. 17:15). When I don't seek rest I find my mind being led astray just like Paul talks about. I "put up with easily enough" the gospel of spiritual relativity, of political correctness, of sexual freedom and whatever else is thrown in my face day in and day out.

Ok....I feel like I've just written a long-winded devotional or something. The point is rest = good. Seek it out. Fight for it. Lock yourself in the bathroom. Whatever it takes to remember the purity of devotion to Christ.

Imperfect Resolution

First of all a word of apology to all my faithful readers. I realize that my last post was anything but uplifting, and I'm sorry for causing any unecessary concern. Just know that since that time, I feel as though my life has done a 180 (stemming primarily from a long talk w/ my boss, the arrival of warm weather and learning to let go of perfectionism) and for the first time I am (should I dare say it?) beginning to feel more at home in New York....

Today was a day of much reflection. You know when one semi-emotional situation triggers all these other unrelated emotions that need to be dealt with? Well, maybe you don't but that's kind of how today was. So the semi-emotional situation happens to be a date that I had last night. I hesitate to use the word "emotional". The date, in fact, was very good but nonetheless had me doing a great deal of thinking about things today--things I so wish to divulge here but are best left for a safer space than the world wide web.

In the midst of my reflective mode I happened to be reading the last couple chapters of The Ragamuffin Gospel by Brennan Manning, which (as of today) has been deemed one of my favorite books. In short, it is the story of God's radical grace:

Chapter 10- "The Victorious Limp"
When the prodigal son limped home from his lengthy binge of waste and wandering, boozing and womanizing, his motives were mixed at best. He said to himself, 'How many of my father's paid servants have more food than they want, and here am I dying of hunger! I will leave this place and go to my father' (Lk. 15:17-18). The ragamuffin stomach was not churning with compunction because he had broken his father's heart. He stumbled home simply to survive. Disenchanted with life, the wastrel weaved his way home, not from a burning desire to see his father, but just to stay alive....'While he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was moved with pity. He ran to the boy, clasped him in his arms and kissed him tenderly' (Lk. 15:20)...What a word of encouragement, consolation and comfort! We don't have to sift our hearts and analyze our intentions before returning home. Abba just wants us to show up. We don't have to tarry at the tavern until purity of heart arrives. We don't have to be shredded with sorrow or crushed with contrition. We don't have to be perfect or even very good before God will accept us. We don't have to wallow in guilt, shame, remorse, and self-condemnation. Even if we still nurse a secret nostalgia for the far country, Abba falls on our neck and kisses us.


Ok, so basically my past 10 months in New York have forced me to re-evaluate my faith on every level imaginable. Is that really God or just the god who resides in Texas? Christians can be Democrats? How do I explain to people why sex is only intended for marriage? My religion says I am supposed to label homosexuality as sin, but why do I feel like I'm trying to convince myself of that as I try to explain my "belief" to a fellow co-worker who has just revealed she is gay? Why do I believe the Bible? How do I convince people that Jesus was the real deal? How do I know that for myself? ... And so on and so forth, to the point where I wonder if I'm sure of anything anymore. I thought that once I went through my phase, experienced all the necessary epiphanies, and had answers to all my questions then I could face God again because I would actually know who He is--for real this time. Instead of drawing me closer I have allowed my doubt to distance me. What a refreshment it was to hear that I don't need resolution to all these theological debates going on in my head before I can approach the Father again. Manning points out that "[He] expects more failure from us than we do from ourselves".....and, as far as I'm concerned, never has the prospect of failure been such sweet consoloation to my soul.

Hard Times

I have been going through a really hard time lately, pretty much with life in general. Honestly, I've been in this phase for quite some time but only recently admitted it to myself or anyone else. I have literally come to the end of myself. But isn't that where God wants us to be? you may ask. Doesn't He want us to reach a place where we finally understand that nothing nothing nothing good that we do is from ourselves? Absolutely. But no one ever warned how depressing and lonely and scary that place is--because ultimately all control is lost.

I cannot force my clients at work to like me or think I'm a competent case worker. And in the same way I cannot make myself love them despite their pre-conceived notions of me.
I cannot make people in this city who I want them to be--loving, considerate, warm, hospitable.
I cannot get my roomates to care about decorating our apartment so that maybe it will feel less like a dorm room and a tiny bit more like a place I can feel at home.
I cannot make the closet in my room magically have more space to fit all of my clothes.
I cannot rid the subway stations of the strong stench of urine.
I cannot make people want to help me carry a heavy suitcase up the stairs or open doors for me.
I cannot make a beautiful countryside scene suddenly appear outside my bedroom window.
I cannot make myself love what I see in the mirror everyday or believe that one day someone else will.
I cannot memorize verses or read the Bible or really believe the promises of God on a consistent basis.
I cannot stop longing for the physical presence of my family and friends in Texas.
I cannot rid myself of the tension in my upper back that seems to be a permanent fixture of the Manhattan lifestyle.
I cannot believe that God would really have some great purporse for me in a city where everyday I am reminded that I don't quite fit, that I am an outsider, a city who's values conflict with every single one of mine on the deepest level, a city who causes me to be so preoccupied with overcoming my own struggles that I have no energy or heart left to give of myself to others.

That is the place I have reached. Before it was a place of "I'll just try harder." Now it is a place of "I can't"--a place where the life that Jesus Christ lived takes on so much more meaning.
A few weeks ago my pastor talked about the following verses from Hebrews 13:

" 12 And so Jesus also suffered outside the city gate to make the people holy through his own blood. 13Let us, then, go to him outside the camp, bearing the disgrace he bore. 14For here we do not have an enduring city, but we are looking for the city that is to come. 15Through Jesus, therefore, let us continually offer to God a sacrifice of prase--the fruit of lips that confess his name. 16 And do not forget to do good and to share with others , for with such sacrifices God is pleased."

To summarize his teaching on this passage: Verses 15 and 16 command us to love a city that will never thank us or love us back. But where in the world do we get this kind of power? Only when our hearts are changed through an encounter with Jesus Christ. We reach a point where God says, "Do this" and we say "I can't." And God says, "I know, but there's one who already did it in your place." Jesus loved Jerusalem deeply--a city that eventually crucified Him (v. 12)

I've reached a point where "trying harder" just isn't cutting it anymore. Because the things that need to be changed in myself and in others require more than just human will or effort or self-discipline or positive thinking. They require the intercession of a supernatural power. And so I guess it takes coming to the end of ourselves to really understand why Jesus had to live and die the way He did. For every struggle I encounter, the Son of God struggled one hundred fold. He died for people who never understood Him. He loved the very same soldiers who nailed Him to the cross and cast lots for His clothing and mocked Him for claiming he was a king. Will I ever fully understand the power of Jesus' life? Most assuredly not. I do know that any goodness in my own life can only be credited to such a life as His.

"I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me..." (Galatians 2:20)

Book Report

I finished reading J.D. Salinger's Catcher in the Rye today, and though I still haven't quite processed the book's deeper meaning, it was most definitely an entertaining read. In fact, I'm just gonna' have to share some favorite quotes with you:

"She had some Navy officer with her that looked like he had a poker up his ass...then she introduced me to the Navy guy. His name was commander Blop or something. He was one of those guys that think they're being a pansy if they don't break around forty of your fingers when they shake hands with you. God I hate that stuff."
(After laughing hysterically at this part, all I could think about were the guys in the Corps of Cadets at Texas A&M University. Don't get me wrong, I had a ton of friends in the Corps and respect the tradition, but let's be honest...some were way too intense for their own good.)

"The best thing, though, in that museum was that everything always stayed right where is was. Nobody'd move. You could go there a hundred thousand times, and that Eskimo would still be just finished catching those two fish, the birds would still be on their way south...Certain things they should stay the way they are. You ought to be able to stick them in one of those big glass cases and just leave them alone."
(I was just imagining all the moments/people in my life I would like to put in a glass case and be able to go back to at any given time.)

"Among other things, you'll find that you're not the first person who was ever sickened by human behavior. You're by no means alone on that score...Many, many men have been just as troubled morally and spiritually as you are right now. Happily, some of them kept records of their troubles. You'll learn from them--if you want to. Just as someday, if you have something to offer, someone will learn something from you. It's a beautiful reciprocal arrangement. And it isn't education. It's history. It's poetry."
( I especially like that last part about poetry...all of these beautiful cyclical relationships that are so profound without saying a word. Sometimes labels ruin things--they make things like history and poetry seem too intentional, which I think was Holden's struggle with school throughout the whole book.)

Ok, those are pretty much all the profound thoughts I have to offer...it's way past this literary scholar's bedtime. More keen insight headed your way in the near future...
on deck: Fat Girl by Judith Moore.

Gay Sex 101

So today I received a certificate for completing a 6 hour training entitled "Crystal Methamphetamine, Barebacking and Men Who Have Sex With Men." I think I'll frame it and put it by my bedside. Gosh, won't my parents be proud?

Ok, the story is that I signed up for the training under the impression I would be learning a lot about crystal meth with a side note about it's more recent impact on the gay community. I'm making efforts to be a little more savvy on substance abuse issues seeing as I've sent about 3 clients off to rehab in the past 2 weeks. Needless to say I ended up learning more than I ever wanted or needed to know about the sex lives of gay men. I did make a new friend named Alejandro--a gay Domican man with a charming accent...he definitely added some much-needed comic relief to my whole experience.

From a spiritual standpoint I guess you could say that I was violated with what us Christians call "worldliness" on so many levels. There are some issues in which the Christian perspective/practice has a few common threads with its worldly counterpart. For the record, sex (and homosexuality) is not one of those issues. I would go into more detail about some moral dilemas and questions that have been running through my head about this matter, but I'm tired and still recovering from the day's culture shock. As I e-mailed to my dad earlier: "It was one of those New York moments where you just feel assaulted by worldliness wondering how a conservative Christian white girl from Texas can possibly help change such a twisted world view....oh the stories Iwill have to tell my kids one day"

All Pierced Up

So tonight my friend Debby and I got our noses pierced. I'd been thinking about it for a while, and she was planning on getting hers done this weekend anyways.....so why not go for it at midnight on a Friday? Technically we were 3 hours late since the place closed at 9:00 but the owner and her mom happened to be going into the store the same time we got there, so they let us in for a special "after hours" piercing---surely it was sign from God ;) I'm kind of in the shock phase right now. It just looks really big since I'm not used to having a silver ball in my nostril, but I think it will grow on me. Can't wait to see what the general feedack is. The family is coming to visit in a month....My oh my, what will Grandma have to say about this? I have a feeling that once she gets a load of my new look, a few extra rosaries will be prayed on my behalf. "Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us piercers...."

Thought

Do you ever have that feeling that you're trying to hold out for something that's just not there? And then you make a stupid comment--like a last desperate attempt to find whatever that thing is you're looking for--but you already know it's not there. And yeah it's disappointing but you'll get over it. It's probably better to see things as they are and not just how you wish they could be. Do you ever have that feeling? Yeah, me too.

Pick-me-Up

I've been feeling down in the dumps for the past few days. Maybe a combination of PMS, burnout at work, and something else that's too stupid to discuss. Anyways, reading my friend Christian's journal reminded me that I too have a list of things that make me happy. Those who know me well also know that just the act of making a list gives me great pleasure...it truly is an art form. All that to say I managed to dig up last year's list to share with you peoples (all 1 of you, since that's the average number of comments I seem to be getting on my blogs these days). Ok, Ok, without further ado, I present:

Things that Make me Feel Alive
1. being with and laughing with my family (most especially during trips in mom's minivan)
2. having deep conversations (preferably over coffee) about spirituality, society, relationships,..
3. being in Kayron's neighborhood and playing with the kids; hugging her little brother
Michael (side note: Kayron is the girl I mentored during college)
4. playing volleyball
5. listening to live music
6. writing
7. traveling to new places
8. girl-bonding
9. laying outside to look at the stars (and for the record, last year I actually camped out in my
own backyard--tent and everything)
10. playing softball on a perfect spring day (with my dad)
11. riding my bike down Villa Maria Rd. in Bryan, TX right before sunset.
12. bare feet on green grass (preferably doing cartwheels)
13. a day on the boat at Canyon Lake
14. eating coconut ice cream in Playa del Carmen, Mexico, the most beautiful beach in the world
15. laughing hysterically with my best friend Kim

So clearly I could add about 2 million things to this list, but for now 15 will have to do. I'm not too sure how much that did for my mood, but having happy memories to smile about--I wouldn't trade that for the world.

Crotchety

So I have this client at work who may be the most crotchety old man I have ever met. He reminds me a lot of my grandpa as he neared his final years of life. Phrases like, "I ain't worth a damn" became normal parts of his vocabulary, and the family learned to cope by a roll of the eyes or playing along w/ his game of pity.

All that to say my client is Grandpa times 12 (at least). Nothing's ever going right. According to him he is always "going out the world backwards." Like a good social worker I try to sit down w/ him and listen and create a neat and tidy goal sheet for his life...yeah right. This man served in the military for 15 years and the last thing he wants is another "boss" (his affectionate term for me) telling him what to do. He's constantly complaining about how hungry he is so I sign him up for our free lunch program. Later when I go downstairs to check on him he's declaring the lunch tastes like "dog food." I try to sit with him and make up a service plan:

Do you want to find a psychiatrist?
"No, ain't nothin' wrong with me."
Would you like to join an alcohol support group?
"No!"
Would you like to reconnect with your son?
"No. Well....yes, but only on my own terms. I'm not going all the way to New Jersey to visit him. I'll call him when I want to."
We have to go back to housing court in a couple weeks.
"I ain't goin' to any more court! I'm tired of people shuffling me around. I just want everyone to leave me alone..I don't want any new friends....I just want to be left alone!"

And so the story goes.... He was frustrated, and I was frustrated b/c I just didn't get it. How can someone possibly not want any meaningful relationships in his life? There's got to be more to it. Is he suicidal? I wonder. Maybe he's pushing people away as a cry for help. Being at a complete loss, I went to my supervisor and dumped all of my theories on her. To which she replied, "Well, he's 72. Maybe he's just a crotchety old man." Oh. You're probably right.

Maybe when I'm 72 I'll have a better understanding of crotchety-ness...though I feel as though I've gotten an early glimpse in the past few weeks. I make the hour-long commute to work every morning on a crowded subway. At work I am surrounded by and interacting w/ co-workers and clients for 8 hours a day. I make the journey back on another crowded train and come home to a tiny apartment that I share with two other people. Since I have had a string of visitors for about the past 3 weeks straight, my evenings have been filled with going out to dinner, celebrating St. Patrick's day, coordinating times and schedules w/ other friends who have visitors in town....do you see where I'm going with all of this?

I JUST WANT EVERYONE TO LEAVE ME ALONE!!! I don't want to talk to anyone or see anyone or hear my phone ring or have somewhere to be. I am dying for solitude. For a few precious hours I want to forget that I live in the world's most crowded city and that I share a room the size of a glorified shoebox and that I sleep on the top of a bunkbed and that the only place I can go and be sure that I won't be disturbed or walked in on is the bathroom. That is all I'm asking for.....a place where I can just BE....where I can sing or yell or cry as loud and long as I damn well please and don't have to answer to anyone or anything. All I've gotta' say is that if I don't find this place soon I'm going to bust. There will be some sort of eruption, and I fear for whoever is around to see it. Am I crotchety? You better believe I am.

And as for my client, who can really blame the man? If I'm feeling like this at 23 I can only imagine what 72 must be like. Consider his request to be left alone granted.
I, on the other hand, have somewhere to be in 30 minutes.....

Chill Pill

Saturdays never seem to be very eventful. I wake up with great intentions of exploring all that NYC has to offer and end up staying in my apartment for most of the day. Today I woke up around 11:00 still feeling the effects of NyQuil. I bummed around for a while and finally took a shower around 1:30. Then I bummed around some more trying to figure out how on earth I could feel tired after 10 hours of sleep.

To wake myself up I headed over to Union Square to do some shopping. Big mistake. Let me tell you how shopping in Manhattan works on any given weekend:
- walk into the store excited b/c you haven't bought new clothes in a while and you have a little extra spending money in your pocket
- pick out a few items that catch your eye
- go to the fitting room only to realize that at least 15 people are waiting in line ahead of you, not to mention the other 15 that you'll have to wait behind should you decide to buy something.
- examine the items in your hand, realizing your time and peace of mind are worth far more than the orange sequined shirt you're holding
-ditch the clothes and leave, remembering why you were so reluctant to leave the apartment in the first place

This is why I have to constantly monitor my anxiety level in this city. Because normal activities (like shopping) that were at one point in time enjoyable are now activities to be avoided like the plague. So I think from now on my weekend outings will be limited to walking, eating out, listening to live music and hanging out at friends' apartments. And if at any time one of these causes me unnecessary stress it will be immediately removed from the list, no questions asked.

Speaking of live music, Alex Andrew, Summer, Kurt and I listened to a rockin' blues band at 55 Bar tonight. There was a big black lady named "Sweet Georgia Brown" singing......needless to say, good times were had by all. We also ate "mexican" food at Caliente which filled me up but didn't quite measure up to the high standards of savory Tex-Mex cuisine (hence the quotes).

I'm falling in and out of consciousness so I think it's time to say goodnight. Gotta' rest up for day one of my new "strategery": mastering a stress-free lifestyle in the world's most hectic city...more details to come.

Validation from Abraham

This week I have found a great deal of comfort in scripture. Unfortunately this has not been a regular occurrence for me in the past couple of years as I have struggled in a continual love-hate relationship with the Bible. I often wrestle with doubts about how it can be divine yet written by humans, and which translation is the most correct and why we must go through such great pains to interpret exactly what message the authors were meaning to convey and why, after praying for the Holy Spirit to give me understanding, I often come away more confused and frustrated than when I began. This is the battle that I find myself having to lay down on weekly basis.

I have a pile accumulating on my shelf of sermon notes from Sundays past, random devotional clippings and various verses scribbled on pieces of scratch paper. So I've decided to take from the top of the pile at every quiet time and see what inspiration comes from these random notes I at some point thought worthy of saving.

Today I picked up a sheet with various scripture references. Several months ago I was reading my Bible on the subway while coming home from church one Sunday. Before getting off at his stop a nice older gentleman said he had seen me reading and gave me a paper with several verses he had jotted down for me to look up. His name was John, and I thanked him for his thoughtfulness. I skimmed the references and added the paper to my pile once I got home thinking I would read the verses in a few days...or three months later. He had written about 10 different passages down, so I decided to look up each one and read them out loud. Sometimes that gives me a clearer picture of God actually speaking to me. I came to Hebrews 11:6 and read:

"And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him.."
Feeling comforted, I decide to read further:
(v.8) "By faith Abraham, when called to go to a place he would later receive as his inheritance, obeyed and went, even though he did not know where he was going. By faith he made his home in the promised land like a stranger in a foreign country; he lived in tents, as did Isaac and Jacob, who were heirs with him of the same promise. For he was looking forward to the city with foundations, whose architect and builder is God.
(v.13) All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them at a distance. And they admitted that they were aliens and strangers on earth. People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own. If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. Instead, they were longing for a better country--a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them. "

I've struggled this week with a couple realizations: 1) New York has not changed my love for the Lord and His people. If anything that commitment has strengthened, grounding me deeper in my purpose. 2) A very rare minority cling to my same convictions, and thus I feel more isolated than ever.
It's difficult feeling unsupported or misunderstood in something you believe in with your whole heart--constantly having an awareness that you are different, an outsider. And some days I question if it's worth it to have to die to yourself so much and always do the right thing and pray that you will love someone unselfishly when it would be easier to just not associate with them at all. I'm comforted to know that the very pioneers of our faith faced the same dilemma of being "aliens and strangers on earth". But for some reason they thought it was worth it to persevere. Yet nothing in these verses gives good reason for doing so--living in foreign lands, never having a real earthly home, and being able to enjoy their promised rewards only "at a distance." Let's face it, the Christian life makes absolutely no sense. How then did these men and us believers today find not only justification in pressing on, but great joy in doing so?

(v.1) "Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see."

This is the part where I should wrap up this little segment with some profound wisdom that ties all of these loose ends together. But the truth is, I'm still trying to answer my own question. I have a feeling it has something to do with verse 1, about real certainty only being found through faith in Christ, about how "Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today and forever" (Heb. 13:8) and how that security somehow drives us to walk this path, "the straight and narrow"(which I find to be a deceptively bland description). And then there's all kinds of other driving forces that come into play like unconditional love and grace, etc., etc. But for now it's enough for me to read this passage and simply know that I'm in good company.