Studio Dialogue V

“Master, why did you quit?” She finally asked, exasperated.

“I didn’t quit.” He replied.

As usual, she got the feeling He knew exactly where their conversation was going before she uttered a syllable. She also knew it was no game to Him to “humor” her questions and work through them with her--He loved it. Although she doubted this fact at times, it never seemed to stop her in the end from continuing to dialogue. She couldn’t get enough of the Master Painter.

“But you’re not doing anything,” the little piece of art mustered. “I haven’t felt your brush in a really long time.”

The Painter sat back and sighed, not a frustrated sigh, but a loving, patient one instead, satisfied--as if He’d just been waiting for this conversation to materialize.

“The notion that I am only at work when you feel or perceive it, Love, is a false one.”

He smiled knowingly at her thoughtful pause. Her classic puzzlement was also not unexpected.

“But what does that even mean? I'm just supposed to ‘trust’ that You’re not done even when I don’t feel anything?” The painting said, still mildly frustrated.

The Painter squinted a bit at the question, and answered, “You don’t have to do anything, my dear, but you’re on the right track: Trust.”

“What? I don’t get it.” She said, slightly defeated.

“Well, to ‘trust’ or not is always, a choice, my dear, and one that belongs to you alone.”

“Okay." She perked up, "I can understand that, but what I don’t get, I guess, is the difference between if I do ‘trust’ and if I don’t. Like, what does that have to do with anything?”

He smiled. She was quite often surprised at how even though He always seemed to know what she would say next, He never tired of her and almost seemed to even lead her questions. And this time, she could tell, she’d asked exactly what He wanted her to.

“To trust or not to trust is the difference between Art and Masterpiece.” 

He waited, as if to let her process for a moment, and then continued. “You are, and always will be a painting: a piece of art, intended for beauty and inspiration and everything else that art represents. That fact is immutable, but to trust or not to trust is the difference between remaining as the Art that you are now and becoming the Masterpiece that you were intended to be. I can be 'done' anytime you choose. But if you decide to let me be the the artist that I Am you will not always understand what it is I’m doing or how I’m doing it: Trust is ultimately the difference between good and best.

“Oh yeah. Good and best. We’ve been over that.” She said, after a while.

“Yes, we have.” He nodded, cheerfully.

“So, you said that You haven’t quit. You’re not done working on me, right? I mean, if I choose to trust like you said or whatever...?

“Or whatever...?” He laughed, and the colors on her canvas blushed a little. “Yes, it would follow, wouldn’t it?” He said, still laughing.

“So....” She trailed off, not sure if she wanted to finish the thought she began.

“Yes?”

“...well...” She held back only long enough to see in His eyes that he already knew, once more. “...Does every painting have to do the same thing?”

He nodded, not in answer to the question but in order to validate her inquiry.

“Yes and no.” He said, “There are principles in Art that apply to any piece. But fundamentally speaking, what is 'artistic' about every piece is its inherent uniqueness. The unique nature of any piece is due to the artist permitted to work on it, and the journey it undergoes. Therefore, as distinctive as every piece is, so will its process be. You, my Love, have only your process to worry about. And there will be times when your process will seem static for a time, but things are not always as they seem.”

“Okay,” She said, not skipping a beat, “But can You tell me when I’ll be able to know or feel You working on me again?!”

“No, honey, therein lies the rub. For now, it is for you to trust.”

“Okay, but what about why? It would make it ALL easier if I just knew why!”

He shook His head and didn’t speak for a while. She was wondering if He’d forgotten that she’d asked the question, but then feared a bit that He hadn’t. Maybe she’d crossed a line with the Painter that she shouldn’t have.

After a substantial silence, the Painter unsealed his pursed lips and finally spoke. The painting was relieved at His ever patient tone, but the twinge of pain in His voice was not lost on her either.

“I wish I could show you why, Love, but I can’t. It’s not something that you can grasp now nor benefit from. There will be a time, Someday, when you will understand so, so much more about your process, your journey, and your story. And as much as I long for that day as well, it is not now....”

He appeared to choke up a moment before finishing His thought:

“But regardless of that, please know that while your waiting and trusting--should you choose to--I love you and know what I’m doing. There is reason behind it all.”

She heard and understood, to the degree to which her mere capacity allowed. She knew He’d spoken and that He meant it and it was true. The Painter gazed at His small piece of art and she knew He was planning and dreaming for her. His plans and dreams weren’t always easily canvassed--but they also weren’t only good indeed, but best in the end. 

“Alright, Master.” She said with a freeing resignation. “But I hope it’s okay if it’s not easy for me. Like, ever.

In response, His gaze only glowed and deepened. Sometimes He didn’t need to speak. She knew He'd heard.

The Other Side and Thoughts on the Idea of Justice

This morning, on my run, I was thinking about how many times in my life while going through a rough time I would wonder to myself if I was just being “ungrateful” for having a hard time with given circumstances and later I would look back on that season and just think in retrospect how good I had it and regret not appreciating such a “rough patch” for what what it really was.

Not sure if that is even articulated clearly, but I also realized once more this morning that every difficult season of my life that I can look back on I don’t regret going through, but I am most decidedly glad it’s over.

I’m sitting on the other side of a lot right now. I’m “happier” now than I have been in about 2 1/2-3 years. Praise God. I’ve come out healthy and wiser on the other side of an emotional roller coaster involving a few people, a foreign country (read: culture), and a seemingly eternal spell of no direction, and I am able to breathe deeper and begin to see what God has done and is still doing in me through all of that.

But, I’d never want to go back and do it again. Some moments, I realize, I made the right choice just barely. And some situations, I can see now, I got out of or through by the skin of my teeth. And only because I was tearfully on my face for a lot of it.

But He is good. Not safe, as I’m so often reminded, but good. It’s also nice to be able to look back on some of these vaguely described difficulties and know that they were legitimately difficult and that I still do not wish that could go back and “appreciate how good I had it”. I am so, so grateful to have gone through it all--but am equally grateful to be done.

Funny that such a past musing would resurface this morning on my run. Also kinda funny to have some of my past validated by a more objective and happy me now. Makes me chuckle a bit.

On a completely different note, I’m still loving my job. I knew that when God would give me a job and/or direction, it would be a veritable catapult and I wouldn’t know what hit me.

That said, I’ve long suspected that I have some sort of intellectual leaning for the law. This new job has confirmed it for me. I have found a thing that clicks.  This is the way my mind works.

I come home now a very different tired than before. Before, it was because I was on my feet all day and dealing with people--now it’s because I don’t stop learning all day, all week long. I haven’t gotten bored yet and I love that! He knows me. :)

I’ve been thinking a lot about why this is that the field of “law” resonates with me so. For all of this time and through college I’ve also felt this way about languages. Words, mother tongue or foreign--they fascinate me. At first glance the two subject matters don’t seem to relate at all. But I’ve come to realize that they do indeed. It’s kinda cool.

One of the things that I have always loved about language is that it’s very black and white in one sense--but so grey in another. You learn a set of rules, grammar, vocabulary, and all of the et cetera framework that it takes to execute the language effectively. However, all of these things are just tools to accomplish something far more grey, and that is communication.

Communication involves so much more than just the words that are said. And those who are the best at it understand this. It involves countless other nuances, including understanding your audience, body language, cultural savvy, timing...and the list goes on.

I’ve come to realize that law is to justice what language is to communication. The law is in black and white--most literally--but justice involves so much more and is inevitably situational. I love it.

I smile to myself when I think about this. Funny how two seemingly unrelated things could turn out to have so much in common, huh?

Cool.

Ebenezer.

6/9/12

Lord,

There is so much to remind me right now that You are Faithful. It is so validating right now to know that I wasn’t crazy. You really were saying wait. You really were working on and in  and through me, and You really did have something for me. I really was hearing You, and accurately.

Some of those days were really dark. You were there. You were so there.

And I learned so much.

I learned that there is a huge difference between a want and a need. Most of the time the difference is in your attitude.

I learned that living within your means is not about how much money you make it is about discipline. And understanding the difference between a want and a need.

I learned that my Daily Bread can come in any form. For me, it often appears in words. From the Bible, from others, from something I read throughout the day....but if my heart is present, I know where those words are from.

I learned that I have a tendency to find my self-worth and security in what I do or where I’m headed. In my purpose and direction. I think, Lord, I understand why You took that away from me this year, because I didn’t know that about myself. God forbid that I rest in anything but You. God, forbid that I ever forget who I am and Who I belong to. My purpose is wherever and in whatever You want, because YOU alone know exactly where you can use me not just well, but best in Your Kingdom. And God, forbid that I ever want anything but that.

I learned that my purpose can indeed sometimes best served in coffee shop. And in a French restaurant in a seedy part of town. That Your work is done anywhere. That “big things” aren’t in “big places”. That Your Economy has nothing to do with mine right now (and may mine change), because earthly geography and first world economy don’t necessarily speak to the economy of Your Kingdom. Though Yours most definitely speaks to ours.

I learned a ton about the power of prayer. It ain't messing around. And this life we live isn't about flesh and blood....Wow. May I never forget.

God, thank You, for all that You brought me through and all that You taught me this year, even though I was not always a willing student. Thank you for your grace in not letting me go “anywhere” until I did.

And thank You, thank You again for this job. May I not lose sight of the fact that this position right now is probably a stepping stone for something else. Father, may I be a ready and willing and pliable student in the office of the District Attorney and may I be prepared for what You’ll have for me next. But whatever I do and wherever I go may I not lose sight of why I get up in the morning and who I get up for. It’s for You. Who created me and has prepared every day for me in advance that I may go and live it and live it well for You. May I never forget.

Give me powers of concentration and learning here in this job. Grant me favor with my supervisor and my co-workers. May I be Your hands and feet....even if that may mean typing with those hands and going between to floors of stairs with my feet right now. May I not forget that this was a gift from You. A gift when I was ready for it.

Father, show me what firstfruits means here. I’ll give them to you. Whatever it means. And give me an ebenezer, may this be a stake in the ground that I may not forget what this year has taught me.

May this be a stake in the ground. Thank You, from a very humbled servant. Thank You for coming through. I’m sorry that You always knew You would but I didn’t. May this be a stake in the ground to remind me that You are faithful. And may I be too.....

Traci

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

By Your Side lyrics
Songwriters: Donehey, Michael; Ingram, Jason David; Larue, Phillip;

Why are you striving these days?
Why are you trying to earn grace?
Why are you crying?
Let me lift up your face, just don't turn away

Why are you looking for love?
Why are you still searching as if I'm not enough?
To where will you go child?
Tell me where will you run, to where will you run?

'Cos I'll be by your side wherever you fall
In the dead of night whenever you call
And please don't fight these hands that are holding you
My hands are holding you

Look at these hands at my side
They swallowed the grave on that night
When I drank the world's sin
So I could carry you in and give you life
I wanna give you life

And I'll be by your side wherever you fall
In the dead of night whenever you call
And please don't fight these hands that are holding you
My hands are holding you

Here at my side wherever you fall
In the dead of night whenever you call
And please don't fight these hands that are holding you
My hands are holding you

'Cause I, I love you, I want you to know
That I, yeah I love you, I'll never let you go
No, no

And I'll be by your side wherever you fall
In the dead of night whenever you call
And please don't fight these hands that are holding you
My hands are holding you

Here at my side wherever you fall
In the dead of night whenever you call
And please don't fight these hands that are holding you
My hands are holding you

Here at my side
My hands are holding you

3 Months of Ramble....

So, I’ve been home for about 3 months now.


As usual, in some respects it has crept by and in others it has flown. I’ve found myself thinking a lot recently about what I was doing a “year ago today” or “two years ago today” and I’m not entirely sure why. I don’t necessarily tend to live in the past, so I think it might be a mechanism to measure how far I’ve come or how much I’ve “grown” or changed in a certain about of time. I’ve come to realize how much worth I find in that kind of thing, and while it may be valuable and important and very much a driving impetus of mine (to grow and change), I do not want it to be the source of my self-worth. How to change that I do not yet know. Right now the issue is simply committed to prayer. It just sounds like something that’s gonna hurt. Period.


That said, a year ago today I was sitting in on the different classes at my school in Rosny sous bois, France and getting acquainted with how public school works in that country. I was living in a hostel, and in tears on the streets wondering if I would be bed and hostel hopping for 9 months and what I was going to do with myself when all of my “aid” (i.e. Karissa) and visitors left me to brave the big city of Paris all by myself.


I remember feeling like the “rest of my life” would start after Paris. Like, once I got that out of the way then life could move on and maybe I could be “normal” for a bit. I realized today that I still--3 months after being back--feel like I’m waiting for the “rest of my life” to start.


It’s interesting to realize that I feel this way, because in my head I do not believe this. I believe that life is NOW and how you choose to handle the NOW. The “rest of one’s life” does not have an 8-5 schedule and benefits and two weeks off a year. I do not know when it was that I began to subscribe to the notion that it does, but I want it eradicated-- especially if I do happen to end up with that kind of a lifestyle for a bit!


The fact that that value shifted just a little bit tells me that the source from which I desire to draw my security and self worth has changed for me. While it’s natural to change with “age” (I want to be careful throwing THAT word around) and for values to shift, I don’t ever want my source of security and self-worth to waver.


This I have been learning about. I came back to America and my life here after a hard year and I’m still sorting through how much I’ve changed due to my international experience, but also probably the entire year before it. Two years ago today I hesitated before getting on the airplane to move back up here indefinitely to Alaska. I may have left for a while to go live somewhere else for 9 months, but if home is truly “where the heart is”, my home has been here for two years now....weird.


I’ve been realizing in the last couple weeks that some of the “romance” of being up here has worn off a bit, I had missed the nature so much and my life and my friends up here and now that I’m back into the swing of things, I’m remembering all of the less easy and/or less than perfect things about all of the above. But, it feels good. For the first time in a long time has come a resolute feeling of I’m in this for the long term. I’m not going anywhere this time. I’m still, of course, looking for the next adventure, but my geography is pretty certain for a while and therefore many of the relationships around me. That feels good.


I’ve realized that that is “the rest of my life” for now. Even though I’m working at a coffee shop and a French restaurant and will be for probably another few months, the rest of my life has already started and never really has been out of my reach. The rest of my life is in reality the sum of my days just lived out in the present: regardless of my geography or profession.


I have to say that every time I get on any social network (including whichever one you’re reading this on) I am reminded that my life situation looks very different right now than many of my friends my age (read: single and childless) AND an increasing number of my acquaintances much younger than me. This sometimes makes me feel crazy, sometimes smart, sometimes inferior and sometimes just plain old different, but usually a combination of two or more of these..... (Depends on my mood).


I had long had a short mental list of goals that I wanted to accomplish before quote on quote “settling down”. After moving to Paris and back, this list is officially accomplished and in my past. Weird. I think a part of me is struggling without these goals anymore because I tend to THRIVE on goals, but it feels really, really good too. And in a sense my life is before me.


Funny too how this fact has reintroduced some old dreams of mine. I’ve found myself mulling over again the idea of law school. I’ve been thinking of revisiting my gymnastic days and grabbing some friends to go and tumble at a local gym. It’s just funny. I want to learn to fence and have considered taking music lessons again....interesting.


I’ve changed. A lot. I’m not sure how to handle that fact but it’s inevitable and overall good. A part of this change includes a lot more doubt about my strengths and who I am and blah, blah, blah...but bottom line is that I am living out the rest of my life right now and it’s not about arriving it’s about traveling well.


That I can do. I’ve traveled a lot. And I have a Perfect Traveling Partner. :)


And that’s my ramble for now....

Coming Home

It’s weird being back. Except I feel hypocritical saying that. One thing that I’ve concluded this year is that there is no such thing as “normal” or “weird”: there is “healthy” and “unhealthy” and “customary” and “uncustomary” but really no normal/weird. That said, it’s weird being back.

I knew culture shock would hit me, but I didn’t know what it would look like. I actually thought I’d have a harder time adjusting back to the States than I have. I experienced so much this last year that there is a lot there to process. And I’ve begun to do so in my own way, I suppose, but I can’t say that I’ve been truly “shocked” since I’ve been home.

There are still things that are hitting me. I find myself saying “that is so American” a lot. I have a far deeper appreciation now for what it means to be American and even to live where I do in the States. I’m still head over heels in love with the mountains and nature that surrounds me and I feel even more appreciative of it after being removed from it. I kind of thought that the way I felt about Alaska would change over the year, but it hasn’t. I’m back and back indefinitely....as long as I can find a job! That feels good.

The stuff that has struck me shouldn’t surprise me, I suppose. And it doesn’t really. The other day I was blocked from entering a grocery store for a moment because the people in front of me were so overweight. The thought crossed my mind that that would never have happened in Europe. I’ve begun “snacking” again and then kicked myself for it. I miss the walking everywhere and the wonderful food and wine and cheese. Everybody is very loud here, but there are fewer people in general so it’s OK. There are much stricter parking rules here and sometimes I find myself genuinely doubting my English. I’m much more conscious of how the US fits into the “World” setting and find myself much more interested in the news. (Part of this is that I deactivated my Facebook account and have more time and mental energy to do so...more on that later). I was a little dumbfounded listening to my friends’ “drunk” stories the other day...I’d forgotten about that. I’m loving and hating both being back in my own culture and society that I understand so much better. I love and hate that I can once more fairly accurately pick up on undercurrents in conversations and non-verbals and am keen to interpersonal dynamics in relationships. It’s nice to be back to that, but hard in it’s own way. But then, that’s just life. I’m remembering that too.

Because I have experienced so much this year, I find myself talking about little things here and there and different countries and stories that sometimes probably seem unrelated to the topic of conversation or whatever (though the correlation makes perfect sense in my mind) and then I wonder if I sound like a show off or a snob....I hate it, but I’m also a verbal processor and so it’s hard to keep it to myself sometimes. Thankfully I have some very patient friends.

I feel like these encompass probably the majority of the nuances of what I’m going through in transitioning culturally. I have to say I thought it would be “worse” if you will, harder and deeper than it has been so far. But, I’m not really complaining!

I guess maybe this could mean that I had such major culture shock moving over to France that I never really recovered as long as I was there and now I am just back to where I was before I left....I don’t know. Geography would suggest this (that I am back to where I was) but I’ve changed. Not all for the good either.

In the last couple weeks I have been most shocked by the insecurities that have been unearthed in me in coming home. I’m not sure if they’ve been there a while and I just haven’t dealt with them, or if they really are new or just heightened by being gone or what. It’s been really hard to A) realize and B) deal with. I haven’t really yet.

I’ve come back to the States emotionally drained, but in a different way that when I left. It’s funny. I’ve come back feeling (here’s a little transparency here, brace for it....) older, uglier, more alone and attention deprived. I know some of this is just due to being away from my established community and my family while being overseas, but I really really hate feeling emotionally needy. It feels like I deal with one area (or think I do) and then another one is unearthed.....I don’t know how to describe it or how to remedy it. Except turn to God. So much easier talked about than accomplished, however. It’s so much quicker to turn to human community to fill that need, but then it’s so dissatisfying in the end. I’ve found myself once more asking myself what kind of woman do I want to be and what I’m going to do on a daily basis to get there. Tearfully. Not an easy question to answer. And being at such a huge crossroads in my life doesn’t necessarily provide any more clarity there, either. I feel like my life could take any direction right now and that fact is as equally scary as it is exciting.

In light of all this, I’ve also been reexamining a lot of relationships in coming home. Every time I come back to somewhere from somewhere else, relational dynamics change--this I have learned. I expected this to happen in coming back here to Alaska, but I haven’t completely figured it out yet. There is a natural ebb and flow to relationships in life and I’ve learned to more and more embrace this. And this time around I just want to let it happen instead of trying to manipulate it. But it’s been hard.

I deactivated my Facebook page. I really hate how childish that looks in print compared to what a big deal it actually is in my life. But, that is, I suppose precisely why it had to go for the moment. Social networking is a double-edged sword. I began to realize how, due to my current season of dealing with insecurities, I was beginning to look to it more and more for validation and attention....UGLY and HUMBLING. I’m sure I’ll be back on there at some point, but for the moment it actually feels really good. And gives me a slightly clearer head. There are some relationship reasons too, but that’s still too hard to write about. I thought I’d be over it in getting back here, but I’m not. It’s tough to be patient with myself in process, I’m not a very patient person. But, that’s what He’s always trying to drive home for me. I need it.

On a lighter note, I’ve “played” more up here in Alaska in the last month than I think I have all of the last 4 summers I’ve spent up here put together! Hiking, mountain biking, kayaking, shooting, more hiking and more kayaking and lots of people to do it with....I love it. I’m loving not being on the train this summer, and I don’t miss it a bit. I love that the “train” era of my life has now become the reason I came up here in the first place but no longer why I’m here. I also love many of the relationships that were born out of that season of life, but I equally love that not working with those relationships anymore deepens them.

I’m waiting to hear more about a job that is hopefully opening up soon in the Governor’s Office of International Trade in Anchorage. They won’t be hiring for a bit so I think I’m going to go sell tickets at the Alaska State Fair in the interim and pray my bills get paid with that income. I’m staying with two dear, dear friends who are a godsend in their generosity to put me up until I get settled. It has been really, really humbling to need help financially. They have been wonderful.

I miss my family, my visit home was far too short. I hope I can go home to Oregon for Christmas. But, just like most things in my life right now, I’m going to just have to wait and see if that will be possible. I’m praying I learn another little piece of the puzzle in the “be still and know” journey. It’s hard. But, all in all it sure is good to be home. :)

Fire?

One of my favorite songs is called “Empty Me”. It’s a fairly simple song, and it goes as such:

Holy fire, burn away
My desire of anything
that is not of you and is of me
I want more of you and less of me, yeah....

Empty me, empty me, yeah
Fill, won't you fill me
With you and less of me, yeah

Succinctly simple. I’ll often listen to this song in the morning to just help get in the state of mind/heart that I want to be in to pray. I’ve come to realize in the last year that I often bend toward viewing the physical world is as a metaphor for spiritual things. This comes from discovering that I naturally tend to have this drive to find connections with things and form mental associations. It’s cool, but sometimes exhausting. But anyway, this part about me, I’ve found, very hugely translates over into my spiritual life.

I’ve been thinking the last couple of days about this “holy fire” thing. This metaphor is found absolutely everywhere in scripture nearly from beginning to end. Funny how things common like that become so rote and trite often unless we choose or are prompted to more closely examine what they really mean....it’s been coming to mind a lot:

Fire is beautiful. And powerful. And painful. All of these things. What more is “Holy fire”? And why is it that metaphysical pain sometimes hurts so much more than physical?

Synergy

I found this in an old journal today. Decided to revamp and resurrect it.

Synergy

If beauty hath her soul to offer,
So hath he a certain strength to give.
Though she may of the two be softer,
Strength yearns to surrounded with it live.

Both these advance in one synchrony,
If effort's made in proper time,
To effect a space of synergy:
Ultimate race of verse and rhyme.

Protect, and in effect provision,
May he, strength, procure and extend
But lacking any fairer vision
Foremost will he simply "pretend".

Same beauty blooms under shelter there
Too profits from--may well have need
Of haven formed, symbiotic pair
To render her due veracity.

If friend to friend each other ne'er heed,
So neither becomes ever full indeed.
T. Emerson