The Hunt

'I will wait for you,' the Lioness stewed.  'It is inevitable that you will come by if I lay here in my den watching, waiting long enough.'

The Bovine on which I usually prey has migrated away, for His watering hole has died up.  Besides, this predator deserves a more delectable dinner.  All I must do is wait, wait here primly positioned.  You see, our stars are crossed and we are destined to take each other down in flames, to destroy one another in our conflict.  The Sun compels us!

So I wait, night after night, secretly pining for you to come.  Eventually my obsession is rewarded.  Along you trot, tall and proud, looking fit and with bow in hand.  I quiver at the sight of you, and suddenly question my resolve.  But this is the moment I have been waiting for, wasting away for all of these nights.

I pounce, letting my presence be known.  There is low growling, the stomping of hooves, all taking place in a choreographed dance.  After a brief yet emotional upheaval you draw an arrow from your quill and aim it skillfully at my heart.  Without hesitation you make your shot and I am helpless to resist.  Away you run, with head held high, and I am left, bleeding there, still enamored by your majesty.    

Loss

I lost you that day when you boarded a ship for Germany, never to be seen by me again.  You didn't have a first class ticket, like all the ladies and gentlemen aboard.  You snuck on the ship, stowed away among the Christmas trees from Oregon.  For weeks you hid there, smoking your tobacco stash through a small hole in the ship's belly.  But one day, as you were slinking around the ship's bowels, looking for a way to entertain the isolation and boredom, you stumbled upon the crew's dressing room,  For another week you hid in your hole with that stolen uniform, contemplating the consequences should you be discovered impersonating a crew member.  The next night, well into the wee hours as you lay away on the floor, you finally got the courage to put on the uniform and ascend the stairs.

The deck was deserted, or so you thought.  Suddenly a glass shattered on the ground.  Startled, you wheeled around and laid eyed on the most beautiful damsel-in-distress you had ever seen.  She had just dropped her night-cap and needed help finding her room.  From that moment on you were in paradise.  Impersonating a crew member, living on the fringe benefits of that posh position by day, and having passionate encounters with your new mistress in her quarters late at night.

But you never reached Germany.  I only received one letter from you, at first because you were unable to write and then because you tired of waiting for your return, so that we could be united again.  As you were dying you wrote me.  You had been infected by a parasite from the trees and had passed it onto your new lover.  You knew that neither of you would make it.  I imagined that your bodies were thrown overboard for fear of infecting the shores of Germany.  Serves you right.  Karma is a bitch.       

Faith vs. Rationality

I have been questioning the validity of faith recently.  Reading nineteenth century Russian literature and focusing on the philosophical arguments therein has me viewing the World much more rationally than usual.

I also recently started working at a Christian-run homeless shelter in Downtown Portland.  I am involved with women residents who are trying to rise above life on the street.  Each individual has been through most of the horrors that American life has to offer us as women:  domestic violence, prison, not being able to raise your children, divorce, abandonment by family and friends, rape, drug/alcohol addiction, homelessness, etc, etc.

When having a deeply emotional conversation with a women the other night I was unable to reassure her with overtly Biblical principals as I usually would.  I do not think it is right for me to preach what I do not currently practice.  Instead I asked her open-ended questions in an attempt to allow her to come to her own conclusions.

Interestingly, I found a point of contention in my current style of conversation, which focuses more on rational thought than subjective faith.  I still have hope for the future of my own life and I want to women to own this faith-based outlook for their lives as well.  Why is hopefulness an innate characteristic of mankind?  Was it placed there by God or is it a survival instinct evolved through natural selection?  

I am currently reading A Confession by Tolstoy, the explanation of his existential crisis and how he became devoted to Christianity in the second half of his life whereas prior he was an aesthetic.  His rational thinking leads him to the conclusion that life is meaningless and that we must free ourselves from it.  He finds himself hopeless and suicidal.  But once he remembers faith and starts investigating it he writes the line, translated from Russian, "Wherever there is life, the is faith."  Maybe faith is higher than reason.
                  

Culture Shock- Portland

I recently moved to a mid-sized city in the Pacific Northwest from a small city in Texas.  I knew it was going to be different and, after being here almost two weeks, that is starting to set in.  Before moving here I had the 'duh' realization that I feel most comfortable around people similar to me:  young, white, affluent-ish.  Most people have this tendency to one degree or another, whether they admit it or not.  I had not been admitting it (I am a great idealist) but felt a release in acceptance.  Knowledge is power.  This is not to excuse myself from ever interacting with someone the least bit different from me, but it helps to bring much needed balance.  So, I thought, moving to Portland will be great.  There are a bunch of white people for me to be around (it is one of the whitest cities in America) but there are also a lot of homeless people for me to love on too.

Another thing I like is community.  I found a place to live before moving here and knowing how the city worked.  My goal was too have a place to light and then work on finding a place in town where I actually want to live, and hopefully friends to live there with me (and a dog I might add).  This is what is turning out to look different.  I was looking for places, like in Texas, where people spend time in their driveways and on their porches.  Maybe they can't afford A/C, but it is mainly because, like me, they like to live in community.  Kids playing in the street, family coming over for BBQ and beers, old people sitting on their porches all the time.  Bryan was chalked full of lower income neighborhoods like this, and I love them.

Portland, on the other hand, seems to be different.  You may see one or two less-nice apartment complexes, but they surrounded by nicer houses.  You may see a rundown house here and there, but not the stretching "hood" like I loved in Bryan.  It must be because it is a higher income city.  Also the less nice parts of the city are being pushed to the outskirts.  But even those places seem nice to me and are "really being improved".  I am tired of biking through mile after mile of nice houses, most of which are built in the same style :-/  Maybe I should have moved to Detroit ;)  Where am I to live where I can reach out to my neighbors who don't think they have it all together?

I have been freaking out about this recently, not that I do not have time for it to be reveled to me.  I think what I have been missing is contentment, patience and most importantly thankfulness.  It is such a blessing from God that I get to be here in the first place and may I not take it for granted.  Plus, I have been building community where I am, slowly but surely.  Things just look different here in Portland.      

a long time in coming

A few years ago my mom encouraged me to list things I was thankful for every time I felt blue.  I always resisted the idea because, honestly, it hardly ever worked for me.  But yesterday, as I was asking God to help me out of this unknown funk, the idea of comparison came to mind: comparing the seemingly bad in my life to the reality of the good.

So what if...
my family drives me crazy.  I have a family that loves me.

I have fewer friends than I used to.  Now I can lead "the quiet life," getting to do what I want to instead of what I have to.

I am damaged from my past.  I have unique opportunities to reach people here and now.

I am really tall.  I am beautiful.

I do not like my hair.  It is fun and unique.

I do not like to look perfect all of the time.  I have my own personality.

I have low-self esteem.  I am learning to overcome it.

Life is about learning.  Learning how to know and love God more and to be like Jesus.  But sometimes learning is really painful and I want to give up.  I look forward to the day when the pain of this world will pass away.

By the way, what is normal?  I compare myself to others thinking, they are normal and I am not, but another person looking in will probably think my "normal people" are not normal either.  Normalcy is relative and we should not be bound by it.  People are not as perfect as they seem to me.  Each has their own issues.  I guess the key here is to appreciate the uniqueness of us all.  And no comparison!

my experience with a homeless shelter

I have really been wanting to live at a homeless shelter for at least a week.  I wanted to experience it (see the previous post) in order to know what my friends go through.  I went there the other day and found out what my friends have been saying is true- the shelter a lot of rules.  Below I listed a few that stuck out to me.  I am not going to write my thoughts about them but feel free to share yours.  Just know that I believe that all shelters make rules with the best intentions, but maybe some go to far?

1. It costs $45/week to live there, or you can work for them to pay it off.
2. There is an 8 pm curfew every night, including weekends, but you can get a "weekend pass" if you are going out of town.
3. You cannot have your cell phone, laptop or any electronic device on the property.  There is a phone in the lobby you can use (within certain time restrictions) and a public library with computers/internet nearby. 
4. If you bring a car on the property (I don't thing many people living there have a car) it has to have insurance and tags.

I am by no means an expert because as of now I have only set foot inside of a homeless shelter once and have never spent the night.  I do know that the thought of staying there brought up feelings of inferiority and being out of control.  Why do I love people who are poor?  Because they daily face the feelings of shame, inferiority, humiliation, social isolation, depression and hopelessness that I have dealt with my whole life.  Feel free to ask me my story sometime.  It is a good one.

I have some friends staying at the shelter right now.  I can only imagine what they have been through and continue to go through each day, while I have everything I need.  Will we help them?

As for me, I spoke with a case manager who said that I could not move in unless the friend I have been staying with kicks me out.  I decided that it would be lying to have her write a letter to that affect, so no homeless shelter for me, at least not until I truly am homeless (one day, maybe).  Praise God that I have so many friends here in BCS to support me and take me in.  Unfortunately, others are not in this situation.    

a theory i am working on: experiences

I am an experience hound who hunts new experiences- both big and small, easy and difficult, fun and tedious.  I think they will make me more like Jesus- which may be true- but I also think these experiences will fulfill me- which is a dangerous thought.  The truth is... a life is not fulfilled by the extent of its experiences.  Only Jesus fulfills.  A rich life has more to do with the way we react to the experiences we do have.

A person who never leaves the neighborhood they grew up in may have a fuller life than a world traveler.  This is easy for me to say considering I have left the neighborhood I grew up in and I have traveled the world and I still want more!  Could you imagine spending the rest of your life in your childhood-romping grounds?  What would you do there?  How would you make it a better place?  I think I would be bored and potentially give up... unless I found thankfulness!

Again, I am trying to believe that life is more about how we react to the experiences that God does give us.  Thankfulness.  Joy.  Contentment.  Grace.  Peace.  The Bible makes it clear that we are to be thankful in all circumstances.  "Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18)."   And again in Philippians 4:4-7:

"Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!  Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near.  Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."

 We are to try to rejoice in all things, even when "everything sucks" and being thankful is the last thing you want to be.  I want my life to be an exploration of new cultures (different US states, countries, classes, races, ect.) but I continue to realize that I can learn A TON from the people here in Bryan- if I make the effort to pay attention to my surroundings.  So maybe I will be patient, be fully where I am, and follow God's leading- not my own experience-hounding ways.