But Do They Reconcile?

I'm not really sure why all of the sudden this blog is receiving my attention again.

It's no secret that my head has been in Alaska and not really here lately. I have no problem making it known how excited I am to go home. Yet, I've also been thinking about how difficult probably some parts of going home will be. Nowhere is perfect. Because people, basically.

And I'm one of them. And I'm particularly struggling with this lately: I am full of international passions and gifts. And yet I call Alaska home. Alaska has a total population of less than 800,000 people, and it is by no mean on the international legal radar. Nor are international pursuits really on Alaska's radar. I mean, Alaskans love to travel. But then they come home. Alaskans love to experience the world, but not change it.

Where do I fit into this? I don't know.

I love Italy, I love learning new languages, I love all things international...but I have never done well overseas by myself. My stints living overseas represent difficult periods in my life where I found myself emotionally unhealthy, generally lonely, and longing to come home. I mean, if I'm honest, law school and Minnesota have been like that too.

So, how do these things reconcile? How do I go live up to my "international potential" for lack of better terms and be healthy and whole? It's not like I neglect my spiritual life when I'm overseas--God knows--so, it's not like that's the crucial piece I'm missing.

Or, how do I stay in Alaska and pursue all my love of other cultures and languages and giving to the world that has So. Much. Need. Everywhere? I don't know.

I'm struggling a bit with this law librarian thing. In a sense, I feel like if I choose that I'm saying goodbye to Alaska forever. I know that's not necessarily true, but it feels that way right now. It feels like if I pursue this career then I'm at the mercy of where I can find a job that fits me, and I am no longer the master of my geography. And I worry if I can be healthy. How many times do I need to rebuild my life in a new place again all by myself?

But conversely, I feel like if I stay in Alaska I'll be denouncing other deep parts of me that I can't authentically live without pursuing. But emotionally, I might be way healthier. I would be in a place where I've invested, loved, am loved back, invested in, known.

So, again, how do these things reconcile? I don't know. Somehow I'm hoping that this question will answer itself this summer. Maybe I'll really like just being a lawyer once I actually do it. Maybe I'll know when I get there that I'm never supposed to leave again.

Or maybe it'll be another painful summer where I realize I need to move on again, but God is good. Or maybe I'm making a crossroads out of something that's not really a turning point. It wouldn't be the first time I did that!

I don't know. It's just stuff I've been thinking about. Time will tell, I'm curious to see how I've changed, how Alaska's changed in the last 3 years. 

Redemption Refuses No One

Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners--of whom I am the worst. But for that very reason I was shown mercy so that in me, the worst of sinners, Christ Jesus might display his unlimited patience as an example for those who would believe on him and receive eternal life. Now to the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory for ever and ever. Amen. 1 Timothy 1:15-17

Bible study this morning posed a question about the Apostle Paul: "Why did Paul consider himself to be the perfect choice?"

Because he was the worst.

Redemption refuses no one. This is because redemption doesn't just forget and wipe away the past. Here's the thing: instead true redemption takes the past and makes it something new, turns it into what it was meant to be and ultimately takes whatever that past is and makes one's ministry, one's life more beautiful that it ever could have been without that ugly past.

In short, true redemption isn't actually redemption if one tries to forget her past. That's selling God short on His work. 

The Sh!t Hit the Fan This Week

It did. On several different fronts. And it's funny because I'm not the only that noticed: a lot of it is a repeat of what I went through last year. But yes, I am just going to leave it that vague.

The truth is, I'm okay. I'm kind of shocked about it, actually, but I'm okay. I was not okay going through this last year. But God is good, and I'm experience what Paul means when he talks about a "peace that passes all understanding will guard your hearts and minds." Circumstances are in a state of abject fury right now (I also just wanted to use the word "abject") but I have a deeply seated peace that I'm not sure I've ever really experienced like this before.

I'm definitely not complaining, I'm marveling. I'm marveling to feel the work that He has indeed done in me. Thank You, Father.

I feel like I'm at a weird crossroads right now, but I have a feeling the decision will make itself--even though I have no idea what that means. I am over the moon to be going back to Alaska this summer. But I do wonder what it's going to feel like...

Right now, it feels like home. It feels like I'm going home to wonderful and difficult all at the same time and I don't know how I'm going to process it. I've changed, I know I have. My thoughts on things have changed, and I've been through a lot these past 3 years.

I wonder if I'll still have a place there, and what that place will look like. I wonder if I'll get there and dread leaving again, or if I'll spend this summer there and feel like I've had my fill of it by the end--like I'm supposed to move on. Right now I can't imagine feeling that way, and I don't want to, but I know life and Jesus have a funny way of changing our hearts and minds.

I do know that this summer holds the bar exam for me. I'm going up there and I'm pretty much staying in a hole until August. I cannot get distracted.

Mmm, but those mountains though. I can't wait.