If It Weren't for Jesus I'd Quit This Christian Thing!

*Breathe in.... Breathe out...*
Ok, so this is my little rant. I've been developing it now for the past few months and now its gotten to an all time high. *grrr*

Christians really piss me off. They drive me CRAZY and I've had about enough now. I think I've officially lost it. And I've officially decided that if I wasn't required to associate with them, I'd probably avoid it. I have never met a group of more hypocritical, judgmental, rude, mean, and vengeful people in my LIFE!!! And these are the people representing Jesus! How can we possibly expect people to want a life following Jesus if all we do is tear each other's throats out and treat non-Christians as if they are the scum beneath our feet?!

The peak of my frustration isn't actually coming from my own situation, though I have more than enough reason for it to do so. The straw that is breaking my proverbial camel's back actually comes from someone else's life experience. And while I can take the pressure which is being exerted on me, my heart is broken for this other woman.

I recently met up with a girl I knew in high school. We were never particularly close friends, though we ran in the same group, and we started discussing life since graduation. She told me her story and as I've pondered it my anger has grown. In high school she and I went to similar churches, had the same friends, were engaged in the same activities, and took the same classes. We both come from families who have a very stable financial background and are not divorced... now I'm not saying that this implies a similar outcome, I'm just trying to give a bit of background. Having said all this, I don't know if this woman actually has a relationship with Jesus, but her statement about Christians rings true nevertheless.

Since high school she became a bartender. She needed a job to pay the bills, she said. Her church friends disapproved. They told her that she was living in a "sinful nature" and associating with "sinful people". And she told me, "I left, not because I knew what I was doing was right, not that it was wrong either, but I just couldn't stand the pressure anymore."

Afterward her life kinda went downhill. Needless to say, she doesn't attend a church at the moment. So while sitting over drinks with her my heart broke. How many people have I alienated with my legalism? How many people have I known who have felt the same way as this girl? Could she ever forgive enough to hear the truth again? But hell, why should she? I guess I'm starting to loose a bit of faith, not in Christ, but in those people who say their just like him.

*sigh* maybe I'm not an optimist after all.

The "Call" of God

Sometimes I wonder if Christians can get away with more in life than non-believers can. We can do the amazing, the impossible, the incredible, and we have the drive and inspiration to complete these amazing things because of Christ dwelling inside each of us. We can move to foreign lands and live amongst people we don't know and introduce Jesus to them, we can introduce a new and more joyful life to our neighbors, and we can approach a God who grants a love of which we are not worthy. And at the same time, by that same "call" of God, we can do horrible things.

Through the "call" of God Europeans went of the Crusades to the "Holy Land". Christians have ruled countries and abused their people, tortured each other, other people, and killed, all in the name of God. And even though atrocities such as these don't really happen anymore, we still, in the "name of God" can do some pretty mean things.

Sometimes I wonder, "what if we're all just a bunch of late teens/twenty-somethings, going about life, doing what we want to do, claiming that we are following the 'call' of God? And following this 'call' gives us the authority to do what we really want to be doing?"

I believe that God does give us signs. He does call us to things. But I also think that American Christians mistake the "call of God" for desires. We say, "God is leading me to move" when we could easily sad "I want to move". Now I'm not saying that everyone who has ever moved wasn't led to, but I feel that sometimes we use the phrases interchangeably.

I know that God leads in many ways. He can give us a sign, He can have someone speak into our lives (talk about a Christian phrase!), or He can block off every other path. But is it impossible that God doesn't "lead" something that is good? Can we be put into a situation where we want to do something that is good without God leading it? If I like a man, and he likes me, and we enjoy each other's company and want the same things in life and encourage each other and are in a place where we can be together, is it necessarily God's leading that brings us together? Or if we don't feel God "calling" us, should we not be together? Is it ok to just do what you want without God saying anything? I don't really have any conclusions or answers... just more and more questions.

Better than "good"

So my application for a long term trip to England is due soon. Yes. I made my final decision, for all those who I haven't told yet I am going back to the UK, preferably back to Leicester, for EDGE (actually, its called Connect, but thats not all that important). And my application is supposed to be in ASAP.
So today I looked at all my deadline dates, my potential interview dates, and training dates and suddenly I felt an overwhelming sense of sadness. I am leaving. This is it. This is my final year in America, and though I don't doubt that I will come back I don't know if it will be for an extended time, or just for vacations, or what. And I know I don't feel as comfortable here as I do abroad, but I still feel a sense of loss.
This is the country I have called my home for, well by the time I leave, 22 years and now God is calling me on something completely different, into an unknown that I don't really understand at all. And I am completely trusting Him that I won't fall into shambles the second I step off the plane at Heathrow...again. What if I get there and that same overwhelming dread that I had last time resurfaces? What if I am completely alone again? What if I never have the happy ending I always dream of? What if what I already had and dismissed is as good as life gets?
I know that God has the best for me planned, but I have spend so few years knowing of "happy endings" and so many years experiencing painful and dreadful things... often I often wonder if I'm going... nowhere.
And so here I sit, wondering if it wouldn't just be best to stay in America, get a practical job, do the marriage and the babies thing here. The whole "white picket fence" idea. In my heart I keep hearing how "safe" that would be. How happy it would make my parents and family. How conclusive. How predictable.
People have told me throughout my childhood and adulthood thus far that I'm not the girl who leads the "normal" life. That something spectacular will happen with me or for me or from me... something like that. I don't really think that I agree with this position. I mean, honestly, my greatest joy in life would be to sit with a man who loves God and loves me, reading a great book on a warm day in a big grassy field. That is all I really want out of life...my silly little dream. And still, for a person who wants so little, it seems odd that huge things should continually roll through my life. But maybe that is how God works, He gives us more than we could ever dream of... more than my field and book. Maybe my constant thought of "this is as good as it gets" should change. I don't know what it should change to, but I guess that is part of the journey as well.

Fictional Man... Real Hopes

For all you who haven't read the Twilight series I either have EXTREME pity for you in having never met dear Edward, or extreme relief on your behalf, that you will never feel the pain in realizing that Edward... is... FICTIONAL. *sigh* (so sad... so very very sad.)

My newest literary fascination began about a month ago... maybe less... when the UofA bookstore had a sale on all the New York Times bestsellers of 2008 and any books related to them. Since I had been home most of the women I love and respect asked me what I thought of the Twilight phenomenon, knowing my constant bookworm status, and most were astonished not only to see that I hadn't read the books but, at first, that I had never even heard of them. Now, I am not one for fads, in fact, I try to avoid them. Something my nature compels me to run against the grain... constantly, so when I heard of the popularity of these books I was not more interested in them, if anything I was slightly repulsed, and the summaries I was getting from people weren't helpful either.

"Well... it's about this girl who falls in love with a vampire, but he's not a normal vampire, he's a good vampire. And he has special powers, each vampire has a special power. And the book is about their love."...riiiight. "You know, Liz, now that I think about it sounds really silly, but I promise, it is such a good book. You should read it."

This was the review I received repeatedly until, like I mentioned, the UA bookstore had a sale and I finally felt compelled to buy the Oh-So-Popular books. Just as I bought them another girl in the college of science bought them as well, and when she saw the book in my bag she asked me if I was completely in love with Edward yet. I must have given her the stare-down of the century, but she just laughed and asked what page I was on, knowing that in a few hundred pages I would soon mirror her love of this fictional man.

So now I am a woman possessed. Having taken a year to be "single" I am now finding my vow difficult. ulgh. Still, though this novel has made my senior year just that bit more difficult, it is good in that I feel that in my recent male choices I have "settled". Don't get me wrong, please, the guys I have dated/been in relationships with during my college career have been nothing short of amazing, but I haven't had that kick in the stomach, shoot for the stars, World Series over the fence kinda feeling. And I suppose I shouldn't date again until I get that.

Nessy v. Frost... Summary: Robert Kicks Butt

My European excursion changed me. Yes. But I think the decisions I made upon my return of my how I was going to change my old ways, though some have subsided into... reality, has stayed constant.

In my last two months in Europe I had a revelation. An uncomfortable revelation. A revelation that I had to do something about. I could have easily ignored it, it is one of those things that sleeps deep beneath the surface and so rarely resurfaces that one can count it as unreleased stress of something else when it does come out. But because it is one of those things that I rarely ponder, yet it has a strong and unrelenting hold in my life, I decided it was time to pull the monster up, slap him around and evict him from his previous residence. I will not be daunted by some scary memory. Or at least that is what I thought.

So I came home, sad about leaving, but excited for my approaching victory, and set about finding a way to begin processing. And my search was concluded with my brand new mentor. I couldn't have asked for anyone better. We eased into each other's crazy and quirky personalities and all was going great... last week she suddenly reminded me what I had asked of her on our first meeting. To help me work though my monster. Crap. So we settled on a book to work through and a regular meeting time. Done and Done. And step 1: not so bad.

That was 5 weeks ago.

This week we met, she told me how to get the book, one of the girls I regularly meet with had a copy, and when I accidentally ran into her on the way home she was able to give it to me. And as soon as she handed it over... there it was. My monster. Staring me straight in the face.

I saw the cover: harmless. It wasn't until I glanced at the back. That sentence. The one sentence summary that so bluntly described my life. My deeply hidden monster. And he stared back at me... smiling.

When I got back to my room I put the book on back of my desk. Face up. It took most of my self-control not to hide it in one of my drawers. But my real test came when I was packing my backpack for the day... putting everything I would need for the day in that bag. And hence was my dilemma: Would I need my dreaded book for the day, or better yet, ever? I could leave it there, lying on a pile of books, or I could take it with me, and even if I didn't find time to read it between classes, exams, and social engagements, I would have intent. I would have a goal. I would venture in to the unknown depths of which my monster lived and reclaim the space which he had so long consumed.

And so I chose the later.

I haven't read it yet. Heck, I haven't even opened it. But I brought the book with me. I took my second step to kicking the crap out of that damn monster.

In the end it makes me think of Robert Frost...

...I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Who Knew I'd Be So Happy About School?!

I'm not really all that academically motivated. I mean, I enjoy school. I enjoy learning and reading and whatnot, but as far as degrees and credit is concerned, I'm not all that bothered. So, it came as a great surprise to me how ecstatic I was after my credit check yesterday.

At the University of Arizona I have received an 8 semester scholarship which adds up to about $15,000 per year with the occasional reward scholarship when I apply for something extra. I was rewarded this based on my grades in high school and my SAT and ACT (Basic University entrance exams) scores. So you could say that I do pretty well in school. However, during my college years I have become less academically motivated and the longer I am in school the less I care about how well I do in it. And perhaps this is because I now know what I'll be doing after graduation, or because, though I enjoy my degree, I realize that is will come of little use for me later in life, or so it seems at this point. Whatever the reason, school doesn't make me anxious or worry me very much, I mean yes, big exams can get under my skin, but usually I am pretty lax about exam outcomes.

It is because of this attitude regarding my academic record that I shocked myself yesterday. I am getting two degrees at the University of Arizona. One in Molecular and Cellular Biology with a minor in History, and one in Religious Studies with a minor in Chemistry (don't ask about the pairing). And you are required at least five months prior to graduation to apply for your finished degree. Yesterday I applied. No, I'm not going to finish until May of 2009, but I wanted to make sure that I was going to finish on schedule. So when I went in and found out I was only lacking in one class and I was ahead of schedule I was astonished. It has been my hope and prayer that my last semester I could simply glide into graduation without worrying about too much work. I could focus on my job and be relatively un-bothered about school, but I figured England kinda ruled that one out for me, however, yesterday I found out different. And I was so elated! But it wasn't the record that astonished me, I was pretty sure that I was only lacking in one class, but the feeling in relief.

After trying to figure out exactly why I felt so free it came to me: This Is It. I've finished. For 22 years I'll have been working toward the same goal: graduating from college. And now someone official finally said that it is finished, and it was someone whose opinion actually mattered! I have officially accomplished something valid and difficult in my life. AMAZING. Who knew?!

Loving Where I'm At

I've been yearning to write something for a while, but had no clue what to put down. And while watching a film I just purchased it came to me. One of the lessons I am currently struggling to learn and appreciate.

I am 21. I am a Christian. I cannot pretend to be more mature that I am. I cannot react with more maturity than I have. I can only live and make decisions with the information and ability I have at hand.

I think Americans are forced into maturing at a younger age than people in other countries. Or at least that is how it seems in all the countries I have lived in thus far. And this is probably why we all look so old in comparison to the rest of the world. As a Christian, and due to some of my past experiences, I feel maturity was thrust upon me at an age that I could not cope with it yet and so... I rebelled. If there is one thing I am good at in this life, it is rebelling.

So now I am trying not to pretend. I want to live life being who I am right now. That doesn't mean I stop growing. That doesn't mean I make stupid decisions. Actually, I don't really know what it means. But what I think it means is that I forgive myself when I am stupid, that I congratulate myself when I succeed, and that I enjoy growth as it comes.

I mean, honestly, if we were meant to know at 19 what we know by the time we are 60 then we wouldn't have to wait till we were 60 to know... whatever it is that I don't know yet.

:-)

Back to Life, Back to Reality...

Getting back into the swing of life in America is quite an adjustment. And I think the largest adjustment is learning how to live here being who I am now. Eight months abroad changed me drastically, and I feel as if the lessons God is teaching me now are a mere consequence of the fact that growth has occurred so much in my life recently.

The woman I am now is so incredibly different from the one that left Tucson. It isn't simply a change of mind, or mindset that has taken place. I think differently. I react differently. I am... different. I am tidy (That one is just weird to cope with), I am a mac user (that was a consequence of my team and friends in Holland), I like to work out, I don't enjoy driving, I love reading. I am not ashamed of who I am. I am not as ashamed of how I look. I forgive faster. I don't find fault with people as quickly or as often, and when I do I try to forget about it or ask forgiveness for it. And I think the largest adjustment is my honesty. I am far more open with people, and I am a woman who is never open. Trust, with me, is just something that people rarely get, or perhaps I should say "got". Since I have returned I am a new and more honest person. Perhaps most people would still call me emotionally reserved, but my transition from never being open to being just average is a long and painful journey, for me.

Living as this new person in an old environment is odd. But I wouldn't say all this change occurred in England. My alterations have been a continual process since the day I got on the plane to Heathrow from Sky Harbor. Slow... sometimes painful (most times, actually)... and challengingly uncomfortable.

Oh Liz... thats so you!

I think the most odd thing about being back in Tucson is people "knowing" me. I mean, while I was abroad I kept in touch with some people and all, but in the past few days I have heard more "only you would do that"s and "I'm so glad you're back, that was missing from our group"s that I'm kinda thrown for a loop. It's not a bad thing, not at all. In fact, I rather like being well known and established, but it's weird.

In England I was mysterious... well... sorta. Different to say the least. I wasn't English and anyone could easily tell. My sayings, actions, thoughts, and accents were all different. I wasn't predictable. And perhaps that is to some extent what people mean here too. I am, by nature, a rule bender (if not an outright rule breaker). I am spontaneous and pretty laid-back. And I suppose that if a person is those things enough that those out of the ordinary, crazy-type things do begin to define them.

Today I was telling someone about a conversation I had in England. When I had finished they smiled and said "you know, only you would do something like that." And I began to think and wonder if I have been pegged here. Tucson is comfortable. Maybe that's why it bugs me. I can fall into a pattern here. And the most exciting things about being back have been those few times that I have been placed in a position I wasn't expecting. Being thrown into situations where I don't want to be, where I am uncomfortable, where I didn't know what to expect or what to do have been the best ones thus far.

I think one of my favourite (and I must spell that one the English way) memories abroad was where I was talking to strangers about Jesus with Bernard (my Nav leader in England) and he introduced me as a girl who had come from America especially to meet them. I was shocked. I hadn't been warned. I was thrown completely under the bus. I am an extrovert, true, but this was a whole different level of extroversion than I am comfortable expressing. But I did it. I ended up talking to them about... something. And, obviouslly, I lived to tell the tale. And what I took from the situation was that meeting new people probably won't kill me. I had met new people before then, but it was on my own terms. This time I was flexable. I was out of my comfort zone. And in the end I loved it.

"There is no comfort in the growth zone and no growth in the comfort zone." - wow. What a great quote to describe my life.

You Disagree?... We Can Be Friends Now

I love to talk. And when I say that, what I mean is that I love to converse. To hear someone else's perspective on things that I have thought and learned about, or to hear something completely new. To present my own ideas and have feedback, whether positive or negative, from another person. And it is for this very reason that I have the close friends that I do.

I think that there are few people in this world who feel free to disagree with someone else, or present an opposing argument during a conversation and not feel so overwhelming passionate that they wind up offended in the end. My closest friends are the people who I can talk to, tell my stories to, share my opinions with and they might not always agree with what I say and they tell me. People who care enough to tell me when I am nuts or crazy or just all out wrong.

Recently I was having a conversation with a close friend of mine. She and I live in different parts of the States so we don't see each other that often, but when we do have the opportunity to catch up she feels free to tell me her exact thoughts. We were discussing the new law which passed in the city of Tempe stating that institutions which sell alcohol (clubs and bars) can refuse to permit or serve to any resident of Arizona without a "horizontal licence" (basically, in the state of Arizona you are given a licence that reads vertically if you are less that 21 years of age when you begin driving and that gets changed when you are 21 to a licence that reads horizontally). I thought this was rubbish. Tempe is the closest party place to my home town and the place where all students go to have a really "good time". Since I turned 21 while I was in Europe I simply applied for my new licence online and it was waiting for me when I got back to America, but since the Arizona licence doesn't technically expire until you are 65 I thought that mandating that someone produce a non-necessary identification was going to end up getting the city sued (yes, this is America. We sue for EVERYTHING). My friend argued that clubs and bars were private institutions and that by protecting their assets in the further prevention of selling to minors by mandating a horizontal licence that they were completely within their legal rights. Our conversation continued like this for a half-hour or so and in the end we concluded that we missed each other's company. :-)

When I was in England I was constantly told that I was very bold and very blunt (haha). For people who know me (and are American), I would never be considered bold nor blunt in my own culture, in fact I'm often told I am too passive and gracious if anything. So being in England and being called blunt was a whole new experience for me, but perhaps I am a bit. I don't really understand those people who get offended when you challenge their thoughts, and I have high respect for people who can take critism, and because of this trait I am perhaps a bit more blunt than some people. In America we wouldn't call it blunt though... we would call it honesty. ;-)

Actually, I Prefer Green Grapes...

So I am finally back in America. And as I have slowly recovered from jet-lag and a slight sadness at the returned commonality of my accent I have started to digest my adventures and process them into lessons. And though I am sure this is not my most important lesson, it is the one I have noticed most upon my return. Living in Gilbert, Arizona, for me, is easy. Ok, so life isn't "easy" anywhere, and of course everywhere has its' struggles and difficulties, but, for me (I'm so "post-modern, right?) life in Gilbert is easy-er.

I know life here. I understand it. I know where I need to go to get things that I want/need (well, ususally, the ever-growing amoeba that is Phoenix does change every week) and I know how to get there. I understand people. I can predict suspicions, actions, thoughts and presuppositions. I know how to behave. And it all makes sense. But, Phoenix and I don't really make sense.

There are certain things that I like that life in Arizona just can't give. And though it would be easy to stay here with everyone I know and love, to do the expected thing, I think it would be my undoing. I love Gilbert, Arizona, and I fit in just a little too well for my own comfort.

A few days ago my dad and I were talking about preferences. If I could choose whatever I wanted to eat it would probably involve long noodle-type pasta, tomatoes, avocado, something spicy, and lots of garlic (no, this is not a recipe, its just my favorite flavors), and something fruity for dessert with good wine. If I could choose anything I wanted to read it would be something imaginative, funny and with a deeper metaphorical background. My sheets would always be Jersey-knit, chairs would always be the kind you sink into, water would always be purified, the weather would be just warm enough for a skirt, but cool enough for a light jacket, and all the Earth would be covered in soft things to walk on so that I could always have bare feet. But I've come to terms with few, if any, of my preferences ever being met and a given time. And I kinda like it that way. I kinda like not having everything I want most of the time. It makes those times when you do have the few things that you really like more significant.

Hope For A Better Track Record...

I never like going back. Returning. If possible I tend to avoid returning, usually. Not to places I enjoy, as much, or places I feel I experienced a lot of growth, but in places where I have hit my lows, in places I feel I am in a stalemate, I avoid retuning to those places. And last night I finally figured out why: I have a poor track record with change.

That dosen't mean I don't change, that would be completely off, but I have a bad habit of returning to a more similar self when I return to certain places. When in my home-town I struggle to show my depth and have conversations which are more serious than those regarding clothes and old memories. When at university, I struggle to be outgoing, energetic, and be as people oriented as I am. And, in England I have struggled to connect with my own background and culture, but that has been less and less as time has gone on. I tend to be very secretive and abide heavily on the "don't ask don't tell" rule (which is a stupid rule, BTW) and I play it off as a thought in my mind that if people wanted to know more about me they could ask. However, as I think about that I realize, how would people know to ask those things? Why would someone ask those random things about your past? Is it not our own responsibility to reach out to people when we are in need? If I need a friend, whose responsibility is it for me to experience that fellowship? I think sometimes I play the victim in my own life by being too scared to get to know people and then when my extroverted self is in need of company I feel lonely and unwanted instead of just going out and being friendly and meeting people. I say to myself that I don't want to bother anyone, but really most of my closest friends are extroverts as well and could probably do with a bit of human companionship.

So how does this relate with my complete lack of desire to return to Los Estados Unidos? During my European Excursion I have learned quite a few things regarding myself, Europe, other people, England (which may or may not be part of Europe... that's up for debate ;-) ) Christianity... lots of things, and I am terrified that I will return to my reclusive, study-queen self with my billions of responsibilities, meetings, coffee dates and exams. I'll return to eating cheap Mexican food everyday and forget how much I enjoy walking everywhere, I'll have my English jargon teased out of me as well as enjoyment of a good beer or wine. I'll go back to driving, forget about dancing, and I'll stop talking about those crappy things in my childhood which inspire healing.

When I came home from Argentina I disregarded a lot of what I learned within a few months of my return... like I said, I don't have a good track record with change. But now I see that, so maybe this time will be different.

A Note Regarding Stress:

I am not a stressful person. Well... correction: I do not act like a stressful person. I have it stuck in my head that my stress causes other people stress, which is completely true, but somehow that translates to me how I cannot be stressed because I do not want to cause stress to those around me. And though it would be lovely not to ever cause anyone else's life to be more stressful than necessary, I believe I possess an unhealthy level of not wanting to inconvenience people. This idea in my life surfaces on many different levels, but it has recently become more unhealthy than normal and has brought my life to a crashing low.

I am probably not very stressful by nature. I don't mind things being out of order, or a bit untidy. Being a few minutes late doesn't bother me too much, and I really am pretty casual about most things in life. But, I find that I can freak myself out over little things that really wouldn't ever bother anyone else.

I have made a vow never to bother anyone else if at all possible. And finally, it is coming back to haunt me.

I like people to ask me to do things. Sometimes I can be unobservant and don't realize what can be done, but if someone asks then I can help. If they don't ask, I might not help. So why can I not ask someone else for help?

It is a mindset that needs changing...

Protector

And the gap between depravity and Your love increases once again
And again I'm reminded of the cross.
Reminded of my imperfection
my sin
my fallen nature
and the growth You have promised yet to come.

This road... it seemed easier at the start,
the sacrifice... it didn't seem so much.
I realized Your love and grace were great,
but somehow... I did not know this much.

So when I sing those words about Your love,
And when I raise my hands to praise Your name,
I'm ever-learning
ever-growing
in the knowledge of Your sacrificing grace.

My path has gotten smaller and more bumpy,
But my comfort is my Guide and destination.
And as I grow more jealous of the saints already with You
always singing
always praising
All their strength unto Your Holy Name.

So now...I'm leaving all my love for life
Though I'm... reminded of my sin
but my ever-growing trust is my comfort
for You... You are my ever-growing strength

So when I sing those words about Your love,
And when I raise my hands to praise Your name,
I'm ever-learning
ever-growing
in the knowledge of Your sacrificing grace.

Coming and Going

Maybe it is the point in life that I am at, but I always feel that I am leaving. I suppose I am coming as well, but since that part isn't as difficult to deal with I focus on it less. Perhaps it comes from moving around so often, perhaps it would be the same even if I stayed in one place, but I always seem to be leaving something, someone, somewhere...

I leave my parents and EVBC-ers in Gilbert, I leave my bible study girls and the many of my close friends in Tucson, I left my Argentine friends in Argentina, and soon I'll leave my English and Dutch friends to go back to America. I am always leaving.

I'm not trying to focus on the unhappy aspects of life, not in the least, but I am beginning to wonder if I am leading a normal life. Or if I want to lead a normal life at all. I recently spoke to a very wise man who told me to "be confident in my life's calling". I know exactly what he means, and I think that part scares me the most.

I don't think that I lead a normal life. Normal people don't really travel the world, meeting new people and going on random adventures with them. Normal people care about what they are eating, where they are sleeping, where they are going. I care about those things, but at the same time, I don't as well. Perhaps I'm not "normal". Normal people don't choose to study something difficult just for fun, or major in two totally different things just on a whim. Normal people question why, and I do, but I don't as well. Maybe I'm really not normal. And as I begin to ponder the average life, two kids, big house, white fence, dog, it makes me think... who the heck wants normal anyways? When did "average" become good? I don't think that "normal" is meant for me.

Sometimes I wish it was though. How nice would it be to know that you fit in with the crowd?

Age v. Maturity

Conferences are funny things. You go to them, meet great people, hear good things and before you know it you are on your way back home and you think to yourself, "wow, that went by fast. It feels like I just got here". Or, that's how I always seem to relate to conferences.

I just got back from a Dutch Christian Leadership conference yesterday (not that I am Dutch, nor a leader, but that is not the point). And as I have moved from country to country within Europe and this is my second christian conference this summer (neither of which was American based) I am finding them more and more interesting. For me, the most influential and important part of the week is the people I meet and grow deeper with and the conversations that I have; perhaps it is my age group or my personality type, but these most interesting conversations always seem to happen at night. A few nights ago there was a campfire (yes, most good conversations seem to include a campfire) and many of the students were gathered around it. So I, being the sociable person that I am, was there as well. As I wandered from friend to friend around the fire I struck up a conversation with a girl I hadn't met yet; her words are the ones that caught me the most. To be honest I can't remember her name, even if I did I probably couldn't spell it (her name being Dutch and all) but she opened up and shared her heart with me. She mentioned how her life had seemingly fallen apart in recent years due to family issues and how she felt a responsibility to pull her life back together. After hearing her past and how God was challenging her to step into it to repair herself from it I was touched. Just a few nights before one of the conference leaders had visions of people who might need prayer, she had been one of those people. And in the midst of conversation I realized that God knew that if He had given someone a vision to pray over me I probably would have just run away, but this girl, this conversation which pointed so directly into my life, I could not run away from.

She talked about how she knew now that she needed to seek out a councilor to help her deal with these issues. She and I are the same age and so I asked her if she felt that she was too young to have to deal with this stuff yet, especially from a professional therapist type person. She said she felt that, but knew that if he didn't deal now it would only get worse for later. And that is when it hit me. No matter how old I am there are certain responsibilities I will have to take. I will not be defined by the poor circumstances of my past. I have reached an unfortunate age where I no longer feel I can place responsibility of my poor decisions on someone else, so I will not let someone else's poor choices determine who I am.

yea... growth.

Re-Learning European History

I don't think that, as an American, I truly understand the significance of WWII in the context of how Europe views it. I mean, one very small air raid was conducted on US territory and in the grand scheme of the war it was very small and its main significance was bringing the United States into the war as a major partner. However, since living in Europe I have learned more of their perspective in this story. From living in England I can see how the world wars completely changed their lives and re-shaped their world view and how they see themselves as a country. And now, from living in Holland, I am learning how only 60 years after this war a new mind set is revolutionizing their culture. Post-Modernism.

As Americans we have a very "select" view of World War 2. Perhaps I am overgeneralizing my culture, so feel free to correct me, but we generally see it as a war that took place somewhere over in Europe (I would gladly ask any 'average joe' on the street where exactly most battles took place and I would bet that he wouldn't have a clue). We don't really understand how someone like Hitler could come to power over a "civilized" society or how he wasn't stopped before a world war broke out, and though we consider Pearl Harbor to be a horrible attack on "our country" (most Americans fail to realize that Hawaii was not actually a state in 1941), we do not understand the gravity of what WWII really was: a vicious attack on militaries and civilians alike of peaceful countries whose people became oppressed and harassed during their occupation by a cruel and inhumane dictator who deceived, brainwashed, and destroyed his own country in his attempt for world domination.

Living in America we don't see the destruction that Europe experienced. We, leaving out one military base in a US territory, were not bombed. Our people were not in danger of nightly air raids. We don't have bullet holes in the sides of our buildings as remnants. We didn't experience the aftermath of having to rebuild our society out of its own ruins. And our economy didn't suffer after the war but was drastically improved. What can I say? Those two oceans on either side act as our natural buffer zones from attack. 9/11 was a huge shock to us because we assumed that our geography and world authority would always to protect us just as it had before.

Europe sees things a bit differently. The result of the Industrial Revolution culminated in two World Wars. The final one of which saw the transformation of humanity such that people were systematically exterminated based on race, religion, sexual orientation, economic background and those that attempted to assist the masses who were suspiciously being taken away were tortured and slaughtered as well. Each European country lived in fear of the Nazi regime, including many people in Germany. They feared invasion, occupation and destruction and most of the countries experienced some amount of that, including Russia.

I don't think many people living on the continental US ever worried that Hitler would invade us. We were a neutral country until an attack came directly on us and even then we did not declare war with Germany immediately after but only the Empire of Japan. From our perspective it seemed that Europe was always fighting with itself. Just twenty years before they had been engaged in a "World War" (then known as the Great War) and now they were fighting again. Can't we all just get along?...Apparently not.

I think one of the reasons I enjoy living in Europe so much more than I did in America is due to some of these history factors. Basically, Europe has history, America dosen't. I mean, really, a tad more than 200 years is nothing when you think that Europe has castles almost 1000 years old just sitting around and ruins dating back to before the Common Era (that means before the BC/AD change over for all who aren't science geeks). And it is this long history that fuels a part of their survival. Learning from the past to improve the present. America barely has a past to rely on and build upon and since we consider ourselves more advanced than most other societies we don't really rely on anyone else's history either. Our world is coming to an interesting and new global juxtaposition where all countries and cultures are becoming more intertwined with one another and the US was yanked into this realization by the attack on the Twin Towers. We are no longer a solitary power protected by our ocean buffers and friendly neighbors.

Update-ish

My last post was in October of last year, that makes is 9 months between posts, but hopefully I can get better at being more scheduled at it. I suppose a short review of life in the past few months is in order.

The next significant point in my life after the last post was my breakup with my then-boyfriend, John. This was in January, about 7 months ago. The day after I got on a plane and moved to England. Stepping off the plane at Heathrow in London was possibly the scariest moment in my life. I got off the plane and through airport security and realized that I did not know a single person on the same continent as me. I was all alone. And with that terrifying thought I took a deep breath and set out into the the second biggest adventure of my life thus far. Mid-January I moved into my single room hall, Lasdun Hall at Gilbert Murray Stamford, in Leicester, England, which I was kindly helped into by the greatest hall-mates an international student could ever wish for. The next week this group of friends went out of their way to introduce me to the Christian group I had been looking for on Campus, The Navigators. I am a part of The Navigators, a Christian group at the University of Arizona, and it was because this campus also had a Navigator group that I had decided to go to Leicester over all the other Universities that UofA had connections with. I joined Navs in England and my life started going uphill from there.  

Since moving to Europe God has radically changed my life.  All these changes will probably be addressed in subsequent postings.  Unfortunately, I have to return to my country of origin at the end of this month after 8 months of traveling across Europe (MAR MAR MAR).  We'll see how that goes.

As of now I am living in the Netherlands as a missionary learning about how God exists and grows in people's hearts in a post modern world.  Very interesting.