Epiphany: Anger, Idolatry, and Storming the Capitol

Note: I wrote most of this on Thursday, 1/7/21, but chose to wait until Sunday, 1/10/21, to actually post it because I wanted to sleep on it, edit it, and make sure I wasn't just being reactionary.

On Wednesday, I didn’t write anything or post anything, because I knew it would come out harsh and aggressive.  I was—and am still—angry.  I am overflowing with what I’d consider ‘righteous indignation.’  But I also don't want to add to the problems or worsen the rifts that cracked open Wednesday along fault lines that have been forming for years—decades, even—beneath the ground of the political landscape.  The fault lines run deep, cutting through the hearts and minds and relationships and core beliefs of people across every state in our country, and indeed everywhere around the world.

There is so much anger—and I believe much of it stems from fear and from hurt.  There is so much fear.  Anger is the secondary emotion, the reaction to the underlying ones.  There’s a lack of communication and understanding and humane compassion.  We fail to listen to one another.  We look at the faces of family and friends, and we see enemies instead.  We look at people we don’t know—anyone with a public platform who thinks differently from us—and we see someone who wants to burn the system down and take away the things we hold most dear.  We fail to see that they, too, are afraid.  They, too, believe we are at a crossroads, an existential crisis where the principles and rights of a free society are in grave danger.  People on both sides of the aisle fervently embrace the ethos of one of the UK’s motivational propaganda posters from WWII: ‘Freedom Is In Peril - Defend It With All Your Might.’

That’s one of the things I’ve discovered over the past decade as I’ve gone through what I once described to Drew as “a bad breakup with the religious right.”  Stepping outside of that bubble into a state of political homelessness¹ has helped me to see something that shouldn’t have surprised me but which honestly did, to my shame: that many liberals who I’d previously been led to believe would have no respect for the U.S. Constitution and who would throw it aside in the name of progress were actually just as defensive of the principles of freedom and dignity that it contains as many of the originalists I’d grown up around.  Yes, people on both sides of the aisle are flawed human beings who often exhibit hypocritical, judgmental, and selfish behavior regarding one or more issues. Yes, there are people at both fringes who by default and without provocation want to burn the system down in favor of either anarchy or totalitarianism of one form or another, but I believe those people are absolutely the minority.  The reality is that vast numbers of people on both sides of the aisle want to hold personal religious or moral beliefs without government persecution.  On both sides of the aisle, we don’t want to be disenfranchised because of our racial or ethnic background, our gender, or our socioeconomic status.  We don’t want to be unfairly excluded from the economy or systemically silenced in the marketplace of ideas (keyword: systemic; I’m relegating the particulars of 1st amendment discussions to another conversation).  On both sides of the aisle, we want our kids to grow up in a free society that truly acknowledges the inherent dignity and equality of all human beings, no matter who they are, no matter what societal categories they belong to.  Across large swaths of the political spectrum, we value the natural rights to life and liberty and advocate for those rights in a heterophonic refrain.  When we think these natural rights are at risk, we get scared.  When these rights get legitimately threatened, whether in large or small ways, there is genuine hurt.  And out of that hurt and that fear, we get defensive.  We get angry.

But being angry and being violent are two vastly different things.

What happened at the U.S. Capitol on Wednesday should not have happened.  I unequivocally condemn the violence, and I condemn even more harshly those political leaders who instigated it, who capitalized on the hurts and fears and insufficient Constitutional literacy of millions of Americans for their own gain (in particular: President Trump, Sen. Hawley, Sen. Cruz, and other elected officials who were complicit in the lies and pageantry for months, and even now are unwilling to distance themselves from that rhetoric).  Most importantly, I condemn in the strongest possible terms the people who link and equate the Gospel of Jesus Christ with the views that culminated in Wednesday’s literal assault on the physical seat of elected representative government in the United States.

Trump Supporters Gather Outside the Capitol, Wednesday, Jan. 6, 2021, in Washington. (AP Photo/John Minchillo)² The AP photojournalist who took this photo was attacked³ by members of the crowd and had to be escorted to safety. Other members of the press suffered similar attacks⁴.

That coupling is a heresy⁵, and it is a stumbling block to people both inside and outside the church. If we embrace that heresy, then we have failed in our most fundamental callings as Christians: we have not loved our neighbors, nor acted justly, nor loved mercy, nor walked humbly with our God (Romans 13:9-10⁶; Micah 6:8⁷). If we embrace that heresy, we break the first three of the ten commandments simultaneously: we place an idealized image of America on a pedestal next to God, thereby making an idol of it and misusing His Name for our own gain.  Those who participated in Wednesday’s assault took that even further, arguably adding commandments six, eight, nine, and ten to the list of the day’s offenses: they acted on hatred for others, destroyed or stole what was not theirs to take (it is the people’s house, yes, but it belongs to all Americans, not just to the ones who share the beliefs of those who stormed the rotunda, defaced government property, and threatened to lynch elected officials), and they repeated lies and slander without remorse, coveting a powerful office for their political tribe which all evidence proves they did not have a legal, electoral right to claim.

This heresy has sunk its insidious roots deep into the flesh of the American church like a cancer, growing and metastasizing at an alarming rate.  Excising that cancer will be deeply painful, but it is necessary in order for the American church to heal.  It is necessary. Unlike the WWII poster’s assertion, ultimately the Gospel itself is not in peril; God is faithful and, out of His mercy, He always preserves a remnant, both here and around the world.  But what is at stake is the collateral damage—the real harm being done to the souls of Christians and non-Christians alike when the actions of those of us who profess Christ are at odds with the words and actions of the Christ we profess.  We are hurting others.  We are hurting ourselves.  It has to stop.  It has to stop now.  The complete extirpation of that heresy must begin today.  As our country repairs the literal and philosophical damage on Capitol Hill, the church must repair the damage within, too.

But violence must not beget violence, and hatred must not be answered with hatred.

The enemy is not my neighbor.  The enemy is not my family or my friends.  The enemy doesn’t sit on the other side of a political aisle or on a pew in a different denomination.  The real enemy is fear.  The real enemy is hatred.  The real enemy is dangerous ideology.  Ideas are powerful, and words have consequences.  We see that only too clearly today as we survey the physical and metaphysical damage in the cold light of dawn.

As we face a reckoning in the American church, I am hoping and praying that we will all return to the foot of the cross together, humbly confessing like the prodigal son and humbling granting forgiveness like the prodigal’s father. (This is the analogy set forth in David French's Nov. 2020 article⁸ on the subject, which I have found to be particularly moving and convicting over the past two months; I highly recommend it.)  May we, unlike the prodigal’s older brother, have the humility to forgive our repenting brothers and sisters as Christ has forgiven us our sins, which may be less public but are no less real and no less of an affront to the holiness of God.

As we face a reckoning in our society, I am hoping and praying that we can all rise above our differences and work together as Americans to reaffirm the fundamental rights and governing principles of our democratic republic, because despite all the vitriol, there’s still more that unites than divides us, and violence isn’t the way to heal the rifts.

The way forward, both in the church and in our society, is through listening well and speaking the truth in love.  May all American Christians heed the calling to act justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with our God.  May all Americans—regardless of religious beliefs or political alignments—learn how to love our neighbors as ourselves.

Links:

¹ French, David. “The Spiritual Blessing of Political Homelessness.” The French Press, The Dispatch, 18 Oct. 2020, frenchpress.thedispatch.com/p/the-spiritual-blessing-of-political.

² Minchillo, John. “Trump Supporters Gather Outside the Capitol, Wednesday, Jan. 6, 2021, in Washington. (AP Photo/John Minchillo).” AP PHOTOS: Scenes of Violence at U.S. Capitol Shock World, Associated Press, 6 Jan. 2021.

Image: storage.googleapis.com/afs-prod/media/8752c258f12a40b69e5f4ba4f9ecb3ef/2000.jpeg

Article: https://apnews.com/article/joe-biden-donald-trump-electoral-college-elections-de812995a8c7cbea5c1de56a3d1aa007

³ Spocchia, Gino. “Shocking Video Shows AP Photographer Attacked at Capitol Riots.” The Independent, Independent Digital News and Media, 8 Jan. 2021, www.independent.co.uk/news/world/americas/us-election-2020/capitol-riot-congress-ap-antifa-b1784648.html.

⁴ Bauder, David. “Journalists Recount Harrowing Attacks amid Capitol Riot.” ABC News, ABC News Network, 8 Jan. 2021, abcnews.go.com/Entertainment/wireStory/journalists-recount-harrowing-attacks-amid-capitol-riot-75143696.

⁵ Warren, Tish Harrison. “We Worship with the Magi, Not MAGA.” ChristianityToday.com, Christianity Today, 7 Jan. 2021, www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2021/january-web-only/trump-capitol-mob-election-politics-magi-not-maga.html.

⁶ “Bible Gateway Passage: Romans 13:9-10 - English Standard Version.” Bible Gateway, The Holy Bible, English Standard Version. ESV® Text Edition: 2016. Copyright © 2001 by Crossway Bibles, a Publishing Ministry of Good News Publishers., https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=romans+13%3A9-10&version=ESV.

^{7 “Bible Gateway Passage: Micah 6:8 - New International Version.” Bible Gateway, Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV® Copyright ©1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.®, www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Micah+6%3A8&version=NIV.}

⁸ French, David. “How We Heal.” The French Press, The Dispatch, 1 Nov. 2020, frenchpress.thedispatch.com/p/how-we-heal.

Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence

I found myself singing Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence on Wednesday evening (Dec 23^rd). It was printed in the bulletin emailed out in advance of Old Orchard Church’s Christmas Eve service, and when I saw it listed there, it just sort of stuck in my head. It feels particularly fitting—musically as well as thematically—in 2020. There’s a fresh sense of brokenness, of the desperate need for rescue and restoration. The world is a raw nerve. In the midst of the physical and economic and political and emotional carnage, finally—finally—we see a great Light.

It is a marvel, wholly beyond our wildest imaginings, that God Himself would descend into our ruined glory—walking in the dust from which He formed us, bleeding for our healing, dying to give us life—that He might remake us whole and holy, restored into unhindered fellowship with Him. It seems only fitting to respond with awe and praise.

In that vein, here’s a bit of poetry I wrote yesterday (Dec 27^th) in which I attempted to combine that theme with the theme of this blog:

A Stranger Under the Sun 

Oh, I have been lost and, oh, I have been found
I wander from birth 'til I sleep in the ground
Saw mountain-tops shine where He hid not His face
And valleys well-filled with invisible grace
Rough places made plain and great plains made well-rough
And rivers of fear that grace wasn't enough

Oh, I have been lost but, oh, I have been found
by the God who deigned walk in the dust of the ground
My cries reached his ears and He hid not His face
But poured out His blood in a torrent of grace
Wherever I wander, no matter how rough
He walks there beside me; His grace is enough.

I chose the poem title as a reference to a line in G.K. Chesterton's excellent poem, below. I absolutely love how he wove the imagery and structural parallels together to convey the emotional and theological significance of the Incarnation.

The House of Christmas

There fared a mother driven forth
Out of an inn to roam;
In the place where she was homeless
All men are at home.
The crazy stable close at hand,
With shaking timber and shifting sand,
Grew a stronger thing to abide and stand
Than the square stones of Rome.

For men are homesick in their homes,
And strangers under the sun,
And they lay their heads in a foreign land
Whenever the day is done.
Here we have battle and blazing eyes,
And chance and honor and high surprise,
But our homes are under miraculous skies
Where the yule tale was begun.

A Child in a foul stable,
Where the beasts feed and foam,
Only where He was homeless
Are you and I at home;
We have hands that fashion and heads that know,
But our hearts we lost – how long ago!
In a place no chart nor ship can show
Under the sky’s dome.

This world is wild as an old wives’ tale,
And strange the plain things are,
The earth is enough and the air is enough
For our wonder and our war;
But our rest is as far as the fire-drake swings
And our peace is put in impossible things
Where clashed and thundered unthinkable wings
Round an incredible star.

To an open house in the evening
Home shall men come,
To an older place than Eden
And a taller town than Rome.
To the end of the way of the wandering star,
To the things that cannot be and that are,
To the place where God was homeless
And all men are at home.

Wanderlust the Blog, Reimagined.

So.

It's been a long time: more than six years.

Six. Years.

A lot can happen—has happened—in six years.

So why now?  Why resurrect a travel-themed blog when I haven't taken an international flight since November 2014 when we moved back to the States from South Korea?  The adventures since then have mainly been metaphorical rather than geographical, with a handful of notable exceptions (like a road trip from STL to Virginia in 2019...but that's a saga best left for another day).

More to the point, why resurrect a travel-themed blog when I've not gone further than ~70 miles from my front door since the COVID-19 pandemic's waves of quarantines first reached St. Louis in mid-March 2020?  These days, in all honesty:

(Yes, Supernatural even has a gif for that, apparently.)

So why dredge up this insignificant corner of the interwebs now?  Maybe it's self-indulgent, but I've realized that I still have things I want to say—things that I think still fit with the overarching theme of this blog.  I've written a great deal in the past few years in the course of processing a number of life events and this seems like a reasonable place to share selections of those thoughts.

So: Wanderlust the Blog, Reimagined.

It's not always a literal wandering.  Sometimes it's a professional wandering through grad school and career changes.  Sometimes it's a physical or emotional wandering through the harsh landscape of chronic illness.  Sometimes it's a spiritual wandering through green pastures, across lonely deserts, beside still waters, or even through the valley of the shadow of death.  I'm a citizen of heaven, a life-long expat wandering here on earth, eagerly awaiting the return of my King.

Speaking of returning kings, it seems fitting to elaborate on the source of the quotation in this blog's header as part of the grounds for this blog-reimagining.  Odds are that most of you reading this blog don't need additional context for that quotation because either because you know me well or we happen to overlap in a Venn diagram of literary tastes, but please bear with me for a minute, okay?

In J.R.R. Tolkien's The Fellowship of the Ring, a poem known as the Riddle of Strider appears which prophetically describes Aragorn, the titular king of the third book in the Lord of the Rings trilogy:

All that is gold does not glitter;
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither;
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.

While I'm confident that a great deal has already been written elsewhere about these stanzas by far more learnéd and eloquent individuals than myself, I want to highlight what resonates with me.  There is something unwavering—settled, even—about Aragorn the wanderer as described in the first stanza, something which is not buffeted about by his nomadic circumstances.  Yes, he has fears and doubts which hold him back from claiming his rightful kingship for a significant part of the trilogy.  Yes, he spends many years as a wanderer, but his character is rooted in something deeper, something that eventually drives him to take up the crown and title when Gondor's need is greatest.  It is this inner character—his courage, his compassion, his commitment to justice and to peace—which informs his actions as a warrior, healer, lover, and friend throughout the saga.  He doesn't undergo a fundamental transformation when he becomes king.  He continues to be who he already was.  The addition of a crown doesn't make him a good king; his extant moral center does.

So what does that have to do with me and with this blog?  The truth is that my physical and metaphorical wanderings over the years have encompassed both aimless exile and wonder-filled exploration.  I'll skip the specifics for now, but since I started this blog just over a decade ago, I've spent a lot of time asking myself the following questions:

When thing after thing after thing is stripped away, what is left of me?  Who am I, deep down where the frost doesn't reach?

I've written thousands of words in the past decade in the course of verbal-processing some answers to those questions, and doubtless I'll write thousands more before my journey ends.  I've decided some of those words will end up here on this blog, serving as a chronicle of both the literal and metaphorical miles I travel.  And maybe, just maybe, someone will find something edifying—whether hope, or solidarity, or challenge—as they traverse the hills and valleys of my words with me.

When Bilbo sets out for Rivendell in The Fellowship of the Ring, he sings:

The Road goes ever on and on,

Down from the door where it began.

No far ahead the Road has gone,

And I must follow, if I can,

Pursuing it with eager feet,

Until it joins some larger way

Where many paths and errands meet.

And whither then? I cannot say.

What I can say is this: I am a blade that has been broken, but God is reforging me, piece by piece.

Waiting Room

"I am sure that God keeps no one waiting unless He sees that it is good for him to wait."

-C.S. Lewis

"Lord, You have always marked

the road for the coming day;

and though it may be hidden,

today I believe.

Lord, You have always lightened

this darkness of mine;

and though the night is here,

today I believe.

Lord, You have always spoken

when time was ripe;

and though you be silent now,

today I believe." 

-Excerpt from the Northumbria Community's Evening Prayer

"Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord."

-Psalm 27:14 NIV

Sometimes, Korea is gorgeous.

Especially in the fall.  Like today:

Just a quick photo on post of the chapel that I volunteer at with PWOC (that's Protestant Women of the Chapel, a military-sponsored ministry of the on-post chapel system).

Is God artistic or what?! Days like this make me wish I was a painter or professional quality photographer so I could do better justice to the beauty around me.

And did I mention there are mountains here?! Seriously, my favorite thing about Korea is the landscape. Hands down.

Also, there are ginkgo trees everywhere. I love how they turn bright yellow, then drop all their leaves basically in one day:

But, alas, I'm spending most of my afternoon inside a Starbucks (which by the way has completely switched over from Halloween to winter/holiday decorations in the past 24 hours), trying to focus on grad apps. Back to the grindstone! :)

Cheers,

Emily

430 days later...better late than never, right?

Ahem. So. Before you say anything: I know. "Blog" implies more frequent posts than every, oh, 430 days. Yes, I said I know.

In my defense, I have many times thought of blogging but didn't know what I wanted to say or couldn't make up my mind how to say it.  I started drafts, only to never publish them; some still languish in my drafts folder.  I thought I wanted to write the perfect first Korea post...but since I couldn't make the perfect post, I didn't post anything. At all. For 430 days.

Maybe that should have been a hint--a few hundred days ago. Oh well. Better late than never.  My new blogging goal is to post more frequent (and therefore probably shorter) verbal and visual snapshots of our crazy, funny, frustrating, challenging, beautiful life: the nitty-gritty wherein all the humor, joy, pain, love, and faith really dwell.  Feel free to hold me accountable to that, dear readers (if there are any of you still out there after my extensive hiatus).

Now that we've got that out of the way:

Today, I took the GRE, which would normally be bad enough.

But I took it in a foreign country.

Where I don't speak the language at all. (Seriously, I've been here 14 months and my entire Korean vocabulary barely registers in the double digits. It's embarrassing.)

Anyway, the GRE.  I was seriously the only native English speaker in the testing facility. And the only one who couldn't read the wall signs and sign-in instructions, which were in Korean.  I had to ask complete strangers for help. Fortunately, because they were all there to take an English language exam, they were able (and kind enough) to help direct me.

God is gracious because I totally had peace and a sense of humor about the whole thing.

What's more, I totally had peace about the exam itself.  Which is even more unusual given the lead-up to today.

See, the fact that I was even taking it today is a bit of a funny story in itself:

I only decided that I was, in fact, going to take it AT ALL about 2 WEEKS AGO.  I'd been nominally studying vocab on and off for some time with Drew because he plans to take it next year and we both figured I might take it eventually.  He'd practice GRE words by using them in conversation with me wherever he could fit them in.  Usually this results in a lot of laughter, because I can often tell when he's just trying to get a test-word in there instead of using the other big words he'd normally employ.  But that is neither here nor there.  As I was saying, bits and dabs of GRE studying that amounted to very little so far.  But then in mid September, we realized that the best window of opportunity for me to go get my master's would be...*drumroll*... next fall! That's right. Mid-September 2013 I decided to apply for Fall 2014 admission to vocal pedagogy master's programs.  Which mainly have December 2013 deadlines.

Yikes. 

So anyway, over the next few weeks I researched a lot and decided on some schools and, lo and behold, several wanted a GRE score. By December.  

Double yikes.  

Ok, so that's less than ideal, I thought, but it's only mid October by this point and I figured I could take it mid November, so I can have a month to study.  I started exploring practice tests. About 4 days went by. I went to sign up for the GRE online, still thinking mid November would work for me.  And maybe I would be able to take it on post at the Education center. That'd be nice and convenient.

BUT NO.

Turns out it takes up to two weeks before the GRE scores even get sent to the schools you designate on test day.  And the latest available testing date in South Korea that would guarantee enough time for scores to reach schools by the deadlines was October 30th.  In Seoul. Not on post where we live.  In SEOUL (near a train station I've never stopped at before, by the way). Which, for anyone rusty on their Korean geography, is 1.5 hours by train from Dongducheon, the small city we live in that's halfway between Seoul and the DMZ.

This keeps getting better and better.

But I decided to look on the bright side: it's an adventure! Plus, I wouldn't have to angst about the test for months and I could be really, really motivated about studying--it's just 10 days, after all.

Yep.  TEN DAYS.  Triple yikes.

So I booked a hotel for the night before the test at the US military post in Seoul, took the train down, and figured out where the heck the testing center was, while looking painfully touristy with my overnight bag, my phone-gps clutched in one hand, and my printout of the building location from Google maps in the other. (Because calculating routes in English doesn't work in google maps for Korea.  Super-convenient, I know.)

(A quick snapshot of a temporary construction wall/barrier I walked past on my way to find the test site last night...yes, it is decorated with helpful PSA-style diagrams of how to make an origami rhinoceros...further down the wall were diagrams of origami elephants and ostriches, too.)

Anyway, I finally found the test center!  Here's a fuzzy in-the-dark picture of the awesome artsy-architecture that is the Fulbright Building in Seoul.

Anyway, after scribbling notes on my map-print-out to reassure myself I'd be able to find the place again in a timely manner in the morning, I headed to my hotel for the night. I snacked on bread slathered with Nutella (study incentive treat!) and educated myself about the essay formats on the test. I also retaught myself several general math concepts I discover I've completely forgotten--like factoring polynomials. In my defense, it has been over 7 years since I last took a proper math class. Wow, suddenly I feel a bit old. But I digress.

This is my favorite part: I stopped studying before bed, but that's when I started praying instead. And reading Philippians 3-4. Great chapters; you should totally check them out, dear readers.  And the apostle Paul, through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, has totally awesome stuff to say about humility, pressing onward, prayer, and peace.  Phew.  Loaded passages, but exactly what God had for me right then.  What a timely reminder to practice humility in the face of the temptation to place my hope and trust in my academic record and intellectual abilities.  After all, they are not what define me, whether I succeeded or failed at this GRE attempt.  In God's eyes, I'm so horribly broken that all my best deeds and abilities are rubbish.  My good undergrad GPA?  My high standardized test scores in high school?  To borrow from Shakespeare, everything I am and have is but "quintessence of dust."  Or as the prophet Isaiah put it: "All flesh is grass, and all its beauty is like the flower of the field.  The grass withers, the flower fades when the breath of the LORD blows on it; surely the people are grass" (Isaiah 40:6b-7 ESV).  But--Praise God!--He didn't leave me like that.  He gave Himself on the cross so that I could "gain Christ" (Phil. 3)--my sins are atoned and Christ's righteousness adorns my shoulders, hiding equally the rubbish of both my sins and my best efforts underneath.

The chapters in Philippians go on to chronicle Paul's thought process--the "now what," if you will.  He exhorts his readers to join him in "forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead...press[ing] on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus" (Phil. 3:13b-14 ESV).  Those are good words, especially to a perfectionist like me who tends to get hung up on past failures as well as past successes, both of which can prevent me equally from excelling in my academic pursuits and from living abundantly in my relationship with God.

I reached chapter 4 and again found just the words I needed at that moment--the "how" of doing that "now what."  How do I give it all to God and press forward in the confidence of His grace?  Paul gives us the answer in verse 6-7: "Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.  And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus" (ESV).  I remembered how just over two weeks ago, we had a guest speaker at PWOC (the women's ministry on post that I volunteer with) who spoke about prayer from these verses.  Her acronym for a template for prayer came back to me: PRAY.  That's Praise, Repent, Ask, Yield.  Praise God for who He is, Repent by agreeing with God about your sin and turning from it to Him, Ask for what you need or are worried about, then Yield the results to His perfect will.  So I did that, right then.  It's been a rough several years spiritually for me--lots of highs and lows for a variety of reasons (if you haven't been in the loop on that, feel free to ask, but that's another long story for another day or another post; it mostly involves me blaming God for stuff and then having a hard time believing He's forgiven me for blaming Him for so long).  Honestly a lot of times when I pray, I struggle to get past the confession stage of prayer.  It's not that I'm not confessing; I guess I mostly get hung up on the being forgiven part.  I struggle to believe that I've really confessed enough (which doesn't really even make sense theologically, but there you go: things we believe without basis that get in the way of abundant life) or that God's not still somehow disappointed with me and therefore not forgiven me or restored me to the full joy of His salvation (also an unsound thing to believe theologically but a tough idea to shake once it grabs on).  Anyway, for the first time in quite a while, I really felt forgiven.  I know that the truth is that I am forgiven always in Christ, but there is such joy in recognizing that all over again.  Before I went to bed, I praised God, confessed, and actually accepted the forgiveness I know He's always been giving me.

This morning, based on the boldness of knowing I'm really forgiven, I dared to ask.  It was a beautiful fall Korean morning--God's artistry evident in the changing colors, the chill in the air, and sweet smell of changing seasons in the light breeze.  This was the view from my window this morning at sunrise when I was getting up (sorry the pic's so blurry and has window-reflections...but it was just too pretty a sunrise not to try to give you a taste):

Anyway, I had such peace.  I was completely at peace with how the test might go.  I trusted God, and I put no stock in my own abilities or insecurities.  I just pressed on toward the goal.  Before I started the test (once I'd navigated the language barriers at the testing center!), I paused to really pray again.  I dared to ask God for a better outcome to the test than I had dared to hope for, the kind of result that could only be from Him.  Then, still full of His peace, I yielded the whole thing to Him.  Each new sheet of scratch paper, each section of the exam, I yielded to Him.  It was a really great experience.  Never thought I'd say that about the GRE, but really, it had nothing to do with the GRE.  It was just where I happened to be when I was yielding my steps to God.

By the time I was finished, I felt really good about how it had gone and I still felt at peace.  And that's when they tell you your "unofficial" score at the end (that is, your scores for the parts of the test that can be scored electronically on site).  Man, God really answered my prayer.  I am still kind of in shock that He actually did.  Oh, me of little faith. ;)  Anyway, there is no way it should have gone as smoothly as it did nor that I should have earned that good a score, definitely not with the crammed timeline or the geographic and linguistic complications.  But there it is, added permanently to my academic record: Proof that sometimes God does answer our prayers for the things we think are too big to ask for.  More importantly, for me it will be an Ebenezer during the next several weeks of application frenzy and several additional weeks or months of waiting for acceptance/rejection letters: God is in control of the process.  PRAY.  Then rest in His will.

That is exactly what I failed to do the last time I applied to grad school, and the bad experience I had with the process last time around was one contributing factor in kicking off such a long and difficult period in my walk with God.  I hope and pray this is a chance to come full-circle; a chance for God to do a healing and growing work in me.  Maybe this time, I can trust Him each step of the way and see His hand more clearly, finding healing from past pains and renewed faith and joy in following His plan for my life.

Soli Deo Gloria!
-Emily

Itinerant Household!

Ok, I've given A LOT of thought lately to the topic of the previous post--being an itinerant household. The reason?

WE COULD BE MOVING (AGAIN) IN AS LITTLE AS SIX WEEKS.

Yes, you did read that correctly.  It will probably be longer than six weeks, but there's no guarantee.

That's right.  We could be moving in less than two months, COULD being the operative word.  The Army, bless them, hasn't bothered to cut us any orders--or even any pre-orders (called RFOs)--yet.  All we know for sure is as follows (and we've known the following 3 things since Feb. 28, nearly 6 weeks ago):

1) We are officially moving to South Korea.  (More on that in the next post!)
2) Drew will be stationed with the 2nd Infantry Division (henceforth referred to as the 2nd ID).
3) We won't be leaving until after May 22, 2012, because Drew's coursework/training here in Lawton concludes on that date.

Yes, that's all we know.  And yes, May 22nd is a mere 6 weeks away.  Can you tell I'm getting a bit restless?

I've been reading all about the country, the culture, moving tips, pinning all things moving-and-itinerant-household related onto Pinterest, speculating about all the possible variations of how this whole moving-to-Asia thing could go down, and stressing out some about how little real info we have about something that's happening for sure and may be happening very soon.

If you search Google for moving advice, timelines, and checklists, most of the moving timelines start counting down from 8 weeks...and expect you to actually know where you're moving to.  We won't even know what kind of housing accommodations we'll be renting until Drew gets there (he will go first) and signs a lease, by which point in time, we'll have already moved out of our apartment here in Lawton, OK, USA, and put all of our belonging into a) storage, b) a shipment to Korea that has a maximum weight restriction, or c) his and my suitcases.  So much for the internet's advice to consider the layout of your new home and label the boxes with appropriate room designations and plan furniture layouts! Ha! :)

I guess I always have said I wanted adventure...I just sometimes wish it didn't involve so many unknowns or so many things outside my control, truthfully.  At the same time, I know that these few years of Army moves will be an amazing experience--we'll get to travel to and live in places we might never otherwise see, and we get to grow together as individuals and as a couple through these experiences and the challenges that come with them.  So even though I'm sometimes frustrated, I try to remember that--as one of the women at the Army wives' Bible study I go to said recently--"God cuts the orders and the Army foots the bill!"  God already knows all the details that we don't, and better yet, He's already planned out each and every purpose He has in store for us in South Korea.  We have the chance to carry the Gospel with us all over the world, and the Army pays our expenses. :)  I hope to find joy and comfort in that as the move gets closer and closer.  God is the God of the whole world, and He goes ahead of us and follows behind us, guiding and guarding us as He gives us a role to play in His Kingdom's work.  As we remember especially at this time of year our Lord's atoning death and triumphant resurrection, may we find joy in being including in the glorious project of Redemption.
In Christ, who is the Hope of the whole World (even Korea),
Emily

Stewardship and Spiritual Gifts

One of the cool--and challenging--things about moving regularly is that you don't have time to get complacent spiritually.  At least, not in regard to attending church and listening to preaching and teaching and such.  When you have to find a new church home every couple of months or years, you get used to evaluating carefully what's being said, testing it against the Bible, looking at groups of people you've recently met and asking yourself, "How is this community living out the Biblical ideals of the body of Christ?" and "Is this the community God wants me to join to fellowship with, learn from, and grow with?"  It often makes me think more seriously and extensively about what's said in any given sermon or Sunday school lesson, mulling it over and trying to decide whether what was said was sound doctrinal truth and, if so, how I should apply it to my life.

This morning, I attended Sunday school for the first time at what I believe will be our new church home here in Lawton, OK.  The topic was stewardship.  I've thought about that a lot over the years, but the Sunday school leader presented a few aspects I hadn't considered much before: that stewardship applies not only to the obvious things, like our time, money, general abilities, and our bodies (the temple of the Holy Spirit), but also to things like our testimony and our Talent(s).  

Testimony in this context meant that each of us has a unique testimony of which we are the steward: we are meant to understand our testimony and share it with others for the edification of the body of Christ and to help bring people to relationship with the Lord.  If we neglect to use our testimony for the Kingdom, instead hiding it away, we are being poor stewards of something that is unique that God has given us for the advancement of the Kingdom.  I had not thought of it that way before, I guess.  But after some consideration, it seems to me to be a valid and Biblically sound idea, that each person's testimony is valid, beautiful, and meant to be shared for the advancement of the Kingdom, and to refrain from sharing it at the appropriate times is to miss out on a chance to advance the Kingdom and give glory to God.  

I also thought a lot about what they meant by being a steward of one's Talent(s).  When I hear 'talents,' I assume someone's talking about how well he draws or she writes or he plays baseball, but this morning Talent with a capital T meant your spiritual gift(s), which God has entrusted to you and wants you to invest for the growth of the Kingdom.  The premise, which may or may not be widely known in all evangelical circles, I'm not sure, is that--in addition to the fruits of the Spirit and general enabling through the Spirit to live in a way that honors God--each believer is given one or more special spiritual gifts.  These are particular areas where he or she particularly--supernaturally--excels at an aspect of the Christian life or a charismatic demonstration of his or her faith.  Not all spiritual gifts are the charismatic kind, though.  One online resource for helping Christians identify what might be their unique set of spiritual gifts lists as many as twenty-eight kinds of spiritual gifts.  These range from the more obvious kinds, like speaking in and interpreting tongues, to the less obvious kinds like teaching, hospitality, or administration.  This doesn't mean that only some Christians are expected to be organized or hospitable, but rather that God gives to some a remarkable, supernatural ability or inclination in these areas (for example, I know a young woman who almost certainly has a spiritual gift for administration.  She ENJOYS organizing things.  Like A LOT.  And she has continually, selflessly, and joyfully used this gift to benefit the ministries she has been involved in so that they are better able to advance the Kingdom.  This seems by all appearances to be more than a case of an ordinary orderly individual.  At the other end of the spectrum, I also have met a young man who seems to have a spiritual gift for healing.  He sees it happen supernaturally and somewhat regularly.  I've heard some of his stories first-hand--it's CRAZY what God chooses to do sometimes.).  There is something deep-seated in their souls that compels and enables them to do these particular things to the extent that they (or those around them) can identify these abilities as coming from the Lord.

Considering this, I went looking for something like the link I included above, similar to a different assessment that a young woman who discipled me in college had once had me take.  Though some of the results were different (which may have something to do with a different, more specific test format or that some of the areas of emphasis in my walk with the Lord have varied over time and were unduly reflected in the last set of results?), some of the results stayed pretty consistent.  And this set of specific results really resonated with me.  I've been thinking about callings and careers and purposes a lot lately, and I'm beginning to think a way to go for the time-being might be to pursue avenues surrounding what seem to be the spiritual Talent(s) God has given me.  If some or all of these things (in particular, hospitality, music, missions, exhortation/encouragement) are in fact Talents from God, then I can have confidence in pursuing these avenues as I seek to be a responsible steward of these things for the advancement of His Kingdom and His glory.  I was once told by someone that I had the "spiritual gift of 'hello,'" meaning, I think, that I'm burdened and enabled by the Lord to care tremendously about making people feel welcome and included in the Body and at getting to know people and helping them to connect and build meaningful relationships that last even after I get out of the picture.  This happened multiple times in Cru in college, and it happened in London pretty intensely, too.  I feel absolutely compelled to not leave that new person standing in the corner--I want them to experience fellowship.  I love opening my dorm/flat/apartment to people so that they might be able to experience a deeper community within the Body or even come to know the Lord for the first time by being welcomed into a community that will bring them face to face with Jesus.  I also feel called to music, in a variety of ways--I'm not entirely sure which direction I'm called from this point, but I do believe that God wants me to keep using that Talent to encourage the Body and to bring Him glory.  I also know that I find immense joy in experiencing new cultures and that the prospect of maybe moving to Korea later this year (and the opportunities culturally and spiritually that would include) is less scary to me than moving to Lawton, OK, has been.

I suppose now I've gotten to the rambling stage of this post, so it's time to wrap it up and get out of here.  I guess what I'm trying to say is that I am really mulling over the idea of being a steward of Talents, what role that can and should play in my life in general, and what role that should play in my life at the present and I'm spending these next few transitional months in Lawton figuring out more about who I am, who God wants me to be, and what His calling(s) is/are for my life now and in the future.  I'd love your prayers and your feedback as I ponder these things and seek God's guidance about how to put His good gifts to work.  I have more thoughts and anecdotes about the topic of spiritual Talents, but I think that'll have to wait until a later post.  For the moment, I have dishes then sleep calling my name.  Thanks for reading and wandering with me!

Cheers,

Emily