Walking in Darkness

Let me start this by saying that I am walking in the darkness. What were once manageable negative feelings now overwhelm and threaten my being. I feel like I'm drowning, but in darkness rather than water. It's that feeling of constriction, like I am trapped and can't see and anything could be in front of me and whatever is there could absolutely destroy me at any moment, but I cannot even see it. 

If that all sounds like too much imagery and not enough truth, let me tell you about my darkness. I chose to come to an conservative evangelical college because they offered me the best scholarship. Now that I am here, I am tired and burnt out by what I've found. The spirituality all seems so superficial and fake. Everything seems like a show, meant to impress others more than serve God. People fight and debate theology left and right. How you align yourself theologically defines who you are to many. It is cold and winter seems endless, and I am not sure how to make it through the week nonetheless the next three years, and yet - I will need to stay here because I can't afford to go anywhere else.

The darkness seems so great. I am a shell of who I once was, and I feel like I fail at college and at life. My once overly outgoing self has now pulled back into her shell, and I have been avoiding many people at all costs lately. I feel frustrated and cynical and I who once accepted and wanted to befriend everyone now sits back and judges everyone and everything. I who once lived a life of service and leadership now works to pay for college and spends my spare time in my room alone. I'm busy, stressed out, empty. I still believe in God but I can't feel Her. I don't really have anything to do with her and anything about religion and faith turns me so far off and away. I who was supposed to be successful and thriving in college am struggling. 

These are supposed to be the best years of my life and yet I'm miserable and practically friendless. I look back on high school with envy of what I had, and fear that I'll never have it again.

I am not okay. And nobody know.

There is so much pressure on college students. You make all these crazy big decisions and now you better be happy with them. Everyone is looking at you to make sure you are. You come home from breaks and you're expected to swap school stories with friends to see who has the crazier friends and adventures and who is enjoying college the most. When my closest friends are those at other schools, I hope that is is obvious why I can't call them up and say how deeply unhappy and alone I am, how I messed up terribly and am struggling. 

A favorite blogger of mine, Kate Connor, wrote a post recently called "Puppy Box." It is all about the idea that we are like puppies, nestled together in warmth and community, and when we move and leave, we feel cold and alone and hopeless. One of her tips for survival was having a safe friend, and I think every college kid needs to read this, because it entirely relates to us. There's so much pressure and competition that we tend to keep our struggles to ourselves, sinking deeper and deeper into loneliness and despair. 

Kate says, "It’s dumb and self-defeating to tell everyone who asks exactly how hard life is.  Complaining is ugly.  But if you don’t have one safe friend, one person that knows, you’ll start thinking crazy things like, “I’m alone.”  ”Nobody really knows me.”  ”I’m the only one dealing with this.”  ”Every one else has normal lives.”

You need to hear about somebody else’s bumps and bruises to remember that we’re all people; there is no “Get out of humanity free” card; no one’s exempt.   And you need someone to see you, because…well, because you need to be seen.

Amen and amen. You can't answer everyone who asks about college by telling them about how much it sucks, but you do need to tell somebody. Our despair isn't the only despair around, and we need the reminder. Life is so hard, no matter what stage you are in. Everyone is always rushing to delegitimize people who struggle in other stages of life, but the truth is that it is all hard.  

I read a post by a newspaper blogger this weekend, about the topic of a UPenn student who recently jumped to her death. This girl was a track star, an honors student - she was supposed to succeed but yet she struggled, so much that she took her own life. This blogger's response made me very angry for many reasons, one of which being that she was so out of touch. She said something to the effect of, "I'm not going to pretend that our college students have it difficult with flexible schedules, no jobs, and a constant social life" and that made me angry. For her to say that college life isn't difficult is incredibly insensitive, especially because college students don't jump to their deaths over small inconveniences. They do it because life is hard, and we don't equip our young people very well to deal with it. No matter what stage of life you are, life is very, very hard, but we have to keep moving to find the light. I put my trust in a God who will eventually bring me back into the light, and it will be all the more glorious because I have experience the darkness!

For encouragement and reassurance, enjoy these two videos

You ask me what it is that I love?

You ask me what it is that I love? I love the sunshine and the temperature of a perfect October day. I love the mornings that make me feel alive - crisp leaves, brisk air that chills my body without stinging my lungs. I love the feeling of falling into bed at night, dead tired after a busy day, knowing that I need not do a thing for the next eight hours, yet they will pass in just a blink. 

What is it that I love? I love the warmth of a pile of blankets, the weight of security and ease of mind. I love time spent with a blanket and a cup of hot tea. I love tea in its many forms and flavors - the tastes, the warmth, the cleansing properties - physically and emotionally. I love anything down, down pillows and blankets and coats - the tiny feathers conforming to the shape of my body, their tiny shafts holding the heat of my own heart. I love the blankness of an unscheduled day, and the expectant busyness of a packed one. I love glass drinkware: the proof of substance and fragility. I love the satisfaction dwelling within a filled notebook or page, painstakingly written by my own dear hand. I love foot. All of it. I love driving at high speeds - the one vice of my not-yet-fully-developed teenage brain. I love driving on a cool night with the windows down, the brisk and rushing air reminding me that I am so very alive.

What do I love? I love sending letters, my love neatly wrapped up and addressed. I love that infrequent email when it arrives: "You have a package" and the joy of spinning the tiny dial to reveal a not-so-empty tomb filled with neatly wrapped love for my enjoyment. I love loving people and being loved. I love sharing the warmth of my body with another precious beating heart. I love that my arms can hold both sweet dear babes and grown persons. I love the feeling of lean muscles beneath my touch. I love the wonder of watching a sweet little one fall asleep, and that magical snugliness of a damp, towel encased toddler.

I love words. I love nature. I love God. 

I love Skyping my beautiful little nephew and the way "I love you Bethy" closes our every conversation, never sounding sweeter than when said by his not yet two self. I love truth and compassion and all-suffering love. I love forgiveness and redemption. I love my Mennonites and the way that they get it right most of the time when it comes to faith. I love God, I really do. Despite the confusion and mystery and pain, I believe in and love this great God of mine. You ask me what it is that I love? I love life and its many beautiful, perfect moments, glimpses of something pure and holy and beyond us.

Letter to the Bullied

Here in college, I babysit all the time. I help many families, helping to take care of kids from 5 weeks to 14 years. This week I started a new job with a local family who has two teenagers who need transportation and somebody to cook and really just hang out with them. 

Their 14 year old son, as I've noticed from these past two weeks, is a sweet, considerate, reserved young man. He has recently been dealing with some bullying at school, and last night as I finished up folding laundry, I listened to his father talk to him, and it just broke my heart. 

You know friends, our words have power. They can absolutely destroy a person, or they can nurture and build a person up. Last night I heard this father destroy his son. I heard him blame his son, criticize his son, tell his son what to do to fix the situation. I didn't hear him love his son though - and my heart hurts for this poor young man who can never please his father, never live up to his expectations. It makes my heart hurt for the young people everywhere being isolated and hurt, and not having the the support they need. 

Our school systems, our books, our approach is all wrong. They all function in theory, but as somebody who just recently made it out of high school, let me tell you, they don't often apply to the real social situations in schools. Bullying situations are never as clear cut as guidance counselors and principals like to make them seem. We can't try to eradicate the problem by addressing the issue of bullying alone, we have to teach kids to love each other, to recognize the beauty and holiness in one another, to carry each other through life. Many of our issues in society stem from a lack of these actions, and if we could just teach our kids this, maybe we could overcome this issue of "bullying". 

This whole situation has got me thinking about the issue, and if I were to write a letter to this boy, this is what I would say.

Dear F,

Life is hard, it really is. You haven't done anything wrong, anything to deserve this treatment, but you aren't powerless either. We control how others treat us by accepting or rejecting the behaviors of others. You can't control how other people act, but you can control what you accept and internalize.

You should accept the things that delight your soul. Accept the things that recognize  and celebrate your inherent worth and goodness. Accept those things that build you up, the things of truth. 

But F, don't accept the things that hurt your precious heart. Reject cruelty and stereotypes, reject insensitivity on the part of others, reject the things that objectify and belittle you. 

Your soul is too precious to ignore, know your worth and treat yourself in a way that reflects that.

Look for good friendships. Look for people who will stand by your side and stand up for you. Look for people who stand for truth, people who stand for loyalty. Find these people and keep them by your side. I'm sorry that your friends haven't been these people to you, but give them more chances to try again. People fail even when they mean well. Especially in middle school, kids are stupid. Everyone works so damn hard to be liked, but not for any of the right reasons. If you don't like this status quo, then change it. Like people for who they are, and not the things they do to please others.

And about the kid who treats you cruelly. Forgive him. It seems absurd and frustrating, but carrying around the burden of hate will only transform you, not him. He will still be cruel and ignorant, and now you will be too. Don't do it, instead work towards forgiving him. It's hard work, that forgiveness stuff, it really is. It's not an overnight thing. Hate him for awhile, you have my permission. Be bitter, but get over it and forgive him for it. Look for the good in him, the spirit of the divine within him. 

F, there's no such things as "bullies" and "victims" as portrayed in the media. Nobody is a perpetual bully or perpetually bullied. Rather, we all switch in and out of the roles in our lifetimes. Bullying in itself is a made up concept I believe. It's what our schools and culture try to name cruelty and hatred and brokenness. It lessens the severity and separates it from the realm of adulthood. The truth is though that bullying is just another manifestation of human brokenness. People act out with anger and malice because their needs are not met. 

The blessing of humanity, but also the curse of humanity, is that we are both goodness and evil. Both of these forces dwell within each of us. There is a Native American parable I heard once that went something like this: a young man told an elder that there was a fight within him between two wolves. One wolf is good - he is peace, love humility, kindness, generosity, etc. The other wolf is evil - anger, jealousy, hatred, arrogance etc. The elder told the young man that the same fight exists in every other person as well, and the young man asks him which wolf wins. The elder replies "Whichever one you feed."

F, you have good within you as well as evil, and this bully not only has evil within him, but also good. You are capable of the same actions as him. In your pain, as you find your way through, don't become like him. Feed the good wolf, F. You have to choose to confront hatred with love. Choose to be kind even when your heart is bursting with bitterness. It's not wrong to feel these negative things, that's just human. Accept all of your emotions for what they are, but recognize that they aren't in control, you are. You control how you react to and use these feelings. Even when you feel angry and hurt, choose to put good into the world. Though you reap sorrow, choose to sow seeds of love.

F, you are precious, loveable and loved. Don't lose sight of that. Things get better, I promise. Walk through this season with your eyes on the light ahead. The future is glorious!

With all the love I can possibly muster,

Beth

What About the Other Son?

My suite-mate and I were discussing the story of the prodigal son tonight, and it reminded me of my thoughts on the story as of late. People love this story, I used to love it too. At the moment I don't know quite how I feel about it. The story, from Luke 15, is pretty common knowledge. Christians love it. People read it and re-read it, viewing themselves as either the prodigal son, the older son, or the Father depending on their mood.

If we're honest, this story is great for screw ups, but what about the rest of us? I know, I know, we're all sinners, we all screw up... but really. Think about it more. I mean the image of God as our father running to us after we scorned him is breathtaking, but the more I think about the older son, the more perturbed I am by the story. I just don't know friends. Maybe it's because I feel so damn much like the older son, I don't know. It just doesn't seem fair for him. It doesn't seem like the Father's love for him is equal - his inheritance certainly isn't (rather than getting more than the younger brother as per custom, the prodigal son actually ends up with his own inheritance plus half of his brothers.)

So let's look at the latter part of this story. The father is celebrating his son's return, but meanwhile, his other son is out in the fields, hard at work. Nobody tells him about this development of events, nobody is sent to invite him to the celebration. He is completely ignored at his work. He comes home after a hard day of work only to find that his brother has returned.

Just imagine the emotions of the older brother... really really imagine. His brother left and it probably hurt him, and he was probably bitter because now he has to do all this work while his brother is off partying somewhere. He probably is a little jealous, but also angry because his father makes such a big deal about missing his brother that he doesn't feel loved by the Father. The his brother comes back and it's like "Great, second best again even though by every standard I should be the celebrated brother." Bitterness. Anger. Hurt. Rejection. Jealousy. Indignation. Of course he wouldn't join the party!

This is the part I find interesting. My Bible says that the father came out of the party and begged the son to join it. This reflects on the father's character again. He desperately wants for his two sons to be reconciled. He wants the family to be whole again. He is so happy that his youngest son has returned, but he doesn't want his older son to be bitter. He wants him to join in the celebration.

The older son says to his father "I have served you like a slave for many years and have always obeyed your commands. But you never gave me even a young goat to have at a feast with my friends. But your other son, who wasted all your money on prostitutes, comes home, and you kill the fat calf for him!"

Pause. I get this brother. He's so pissed. He's done everything right for all these years only to be overlooked by the brother that caused so much pain and strife in his family. Maybe all these years of work and service weren't spent with a bitter heart either. Maybe they were years of hard but happy work, but once the prodigal brother is rewarded, the bitterness floods in. It reminds him of all the work he has done, all for nothing. He's so angry he can't even refer to the prodigal as his brother. He says to the father "your other son." Ouch. Harsh words.

The father's answer doesn't exactly clear everything up and make this a feel good story either. The father says, "Son, you are always with me, and all that I have is yours. We had to celebrate and be happy because your brother was dead, but now he is alive. He was lost, but now he is found."

I can just imagine the older son. "Ok Dad. He wasn't exactly lost, he chose to leave us."

So many thoughts about this situation... nothing resolved to offer you my friends. Last year I was in a class called Faith Walk at school, and the main attraction of this class was that we all had a class period to share our testimony at some point, and we also spent a lot of time discussing faith and such. Sometimes I got frustrated because throughout high school, I made the right "big" decisions. I loved God and stayed faithful to following him throughout those four years. I didn't abuse or rely on drugs, sex or alcohol. I spent my time serving others, being involved in school, and achieving. I was like a poster child of Mennonite schooling, but yet I wasn't the one acknowledged and rewarded for my good decisions. It was the people who had strayed, who had claimed faith on Sunday but did whatever they wanted the rest of the time. It was the people who made the awful mistakes that impact the rest of one's life, those people, that were rewarded. It was they that somehow had a deeper grasp of faith, who were somehow closer to God.

And I'll tell you what - I didn't buy it. Why would God call us to faithfulness if he would only reveal himself to those who were unfaithful. Why would God call us to sanctified living if he was only going to deepen relationships with those who ignored his teachings? It just didn't makes sense. So I understand the older brother, I totally understand.

Yet, this story makes it clear that the younger brother is the one celebrated. Yet it was the older brother who faithfully did the work for his father, it was the older brother who did right. He made the good decisions. He was the poster child for filial relationships. Yet he isn't the one celebrated. WHY? As my dear friend Anna would jokingly shout to the sky, "Why God Why?!?!"

The Father in the story says, "You are always with me, and all that I have is yours."

What is God trying to say to us? Maybe His presence is reward enough. Maybe relationship with Him is the celebration. Maybe doing His work is supposed to be the prize. I just don't get it though. God's commands are here to protect us, so by following them we are living in God's shalom, his idea of perfect rightness in the world.

I don't know my friends. I don't understand, I haven't wrestled with God and emerged newly renamed and victorious yet - I don't hold an answer to explain away this story. But there is tension there. There is a disturbance to my spirit. Imagine that - the Bible disturbing us comfortable Americans, rather than comforting us. And maybe that's a good thing.

Until we meet again.
Much love,
Beth

Low Points are Holy Points Too

Here I sit, the fourth Friday that I've been in Deerfield, Illinois, and I'm satisfied. I'm happy. I like who I am (mostly)... We have to make our own destiny friends, and coming to Trinity International University is part of my formation as a person. I've started on this great adventure called college a month ago, and already it has so quickly had its ups and its downs. The thing about college is that one day it's great and the next day it sucks, and I think it's ok to say that. I think it's ok to be honest and say that a day sucks.

For some reason, Christians have this idea that to be holy, we have to love every moment of life. God gave us this life and this time and this earth, so we have to rejoice in it every second of every day... right? I 'm not so sure. I think that living is about fully embracing every moment for exactly what it is. Living fully means allowing yourself to fully engage in the different seasons of life, however short or long they are, and choose to fully accept and feel the emotions of the seasons.

The last eight or so months have been a roller coaster of highs and lows, but I've learned how to embrace the ride. God is just as present in the low points, the points of frustration and desperation, as She is in the high points.

I was a counselor at a Christian wilderness camp this summer, and every day we would lead "Lifesearch" with the tent, a time of daily devotion and learning. Our theme for the summer was Hebrews 11:1, and every day we looked at the stories of different characters who made it into the "Hebrews Hall of Fame." There was one story that I only taught once or twice the whole summer, mostly because I was still wrestling with it myself, and didn't know how to resolve it with my belief of who God is. It's the story of Abraham and Isaac, a father who came so close to sacrificing his own child that Isaac felt the harsh bonds of the rope and the cool metal of the knife. There are so many questions I have about this story, but I don't want to delve into that too much now. I've heard many different explanations/interpretations of this story, and while many seem to hold truth, I just don't feel that any of them fully reflect the perfect nature of my God. One of these such explanations is that God was teaching Abraham to hold on to things with open hands, rather than clinging to them, even if this "thing" is his son.

My thought as of late is that this lesson applies to life as a whole too. We can't cling to one season, good or bad. We can't cleave to the good times, or wallow in the miserable ones. There is a time for everything, and we have to be willing to have our hearts moved daily by the Spirit of God. Each emotion, each situation serves a purpose, and we have to be open to that, but also open to the movement from one to the next. God will guide us from day to day, and the best thing that we can do is accept each sucky and precious day for what it is, being honest and speaking truth about life, asking for help and love when we need it, and giving it to others when we can.

One of my favorite author/blogger/humans, Glennon Melton, has created this mantra, one that we could all learn from.

Peace and love to you today friends.

Haiti update

In March, I traveled to beautiful Haiti... thoughts to follow. Here's a video of my experience (:

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Who are you created to be?

           I was recently invited to participate in a scholarship competition at North Park University in Chicago. On that blustery Friday morning, as I entered the chapel sipping my tea, I chose a seat next to a group of three girls and as I sat down, I struck up a conversation. "Hi I'm Beth," I said - though a small gesture, it seemed to be the action needed to break down the barriers between these girls sitting in silence. We began to chat, and I noticed that one of the girls seemed a little irritated at my efforts to be friendly. The conversation continued; one girl asked me what class I had signed up to attend that afternoon. I responded, and another girl said, "Oh, what building is that in?" "Hmmm... good question," I thought, "I'm not sure, I didn't write it down. I'm sure they'll tell us where to go when the time comes."

            This seemed to trigger something in that first girl who I had earlier noticed. She began to talk about how she was being careful to write down everything, and she even printed out a map online the night before so that the professors would see that she was responsible. One aspect of this scholarship competition was that various professors and recruiters would be observing our interactions in discussion and panel sessions. So this girl continued, mentioning how she carefully selected an outfit that was professional, yet appeared to be something she would wear on an average day, trying to convey that she dressed business casual on a day to day basis. I mentally laughed at her comments, sure that her mother or father had thoroughly prepared her for this day.

            A few minutes later, a stately older man approached us, and shook our hands while introducing himself by name. The girl's entire demeanor changed when the man entered the conversation. Suddenly she was enchanting, all smiles, and trying to dominate the conversation. She asked if he was a professor and he asked us to guess what his job was. "University president!" I guessed, then followed it by saying, "or at least a history professor." After all the girls threw around a couple of guesses, he told us that he was, in fact, the president of the University.

            He continued to chat with us, asking each of us where we were from. When I told him outside of Philadelphia, his interest was piqued and he asked what town exactly. Lansdale, it turns out, was a familiar name to this man. He informed me that his son, daughter in law, and two grandchildren lived in Wayne. "Wayne!" I exclaimed, "I know exactly where that is! I've been lost there. Can't ever forget a place when you've driven around it aimlessly trying to find your way home." He laughed and offered me his son's phone number in case I should ever get lost again. I told him that I should probably take it because getting lost is not an entirely uncommon occurrence for me. After exchanging a few more pleasantries, he moved on to greet other prospective students.

            The girl seemed quite sullen about the fact that I got more of the President's time, and shortly after he walked away she said, "Wow I never would've brought up the fact that I get lost a lot." She seemed even more bitter when he later mentioned in his opening address that he met a student who lived near his son!

            We were later split into groups of about 10-15 and each group was taken to a conference room with a professor who introduced a thought provoking topic, and sat back to observe our group discuss it. As I sat in my group, I noticed how hard so many people seemed to be trying. I could tell how hard some were trying to bring Jesus and faith into the conversation, and how hard others were trying to just say anything at all, even when they were speaking up just to say, "I agree with him." As we moved to another conference room for a new session, I was talking to a couple of kids, and one boy said, "I'm just more of a listener, you know? So I'm forcing myself to talk and to think of things to say, and it's just really hard."

            The world is filled with people like this - people who are experts at shape shifting. They can be whatever you want them to be: loud, quiet, demure, flirtatious. assertive, agreeable. They are experts at determining what you want, and being that person. We are a society of people pleasers, teaching our kids to manipulate and deceive, teaching that they must act a certain way to please certain people and they must act a different way to please other people, but it is absolutely essential that we please everyone.

            This leaves me wondering who the people I met that Friday really are. What does that girl actually wear on a day to day basis? How mature and prepared is she with her friends? How does that boy actually interact with people? What does he think of while he's listening to others? I met many facades that day, when what I really wanted to meet was other students. These kids were convinced that who they really are isn't good enough. They have to be what the recruiters want, because their authentic selves won't earn them a scholarship. Meanwhile, I'm sure the admissions counselors are tired of meeting student after student who are all the same.

            There are studies showing that one of the traits most valued by young people is authenticity. Kids want somebody who's real, because somebody who is real is somebody who can be trusted. They aren't going to be one person at school and a totally different person at church. You can rely on them to stay constant, and genuine. You can know what to expect from them because they are open about their flaws, and their good traits are real, not fabricated to impress somebody.

            It's not just kids who crave this realness, the whole world is searching for people who simply are. Saint Catherine of Sienna once said, "Be who you were created to be, and you will set the world on fire." There is something magnetic about genuine people: something both free and freeing. Their lights shine so brightly, others can't help but come to see, and somehow, one person being just who they are gives permission for others to do the same until slowly but surely, the world is lit by the flames of millions. The world needs these people and their radiance, unabashed honesty, and truth. Despite the lies that we are fed, the lies that say that our true self isn't good enough, attractive enough, smart enough, driven enough, we believe deep down that we are enough, but we are simply too afraid to be that person for fear that the lies will be true. To be who we were really created to be means living bravely, knowing that we will be criticized, and that some of the lies may be true, but that we are still entirely loveable and worthy regardless. We have to live in the light, and share the flame with others, rather than hiding who we are in the darkness.

Some things I love

Here are a few things just to share while I'm jumping back on the blog boat!

For some reason this really just connects with my heart. I relate to parts of the poem, and feel inspired by others. "If you can't see anything beautiful about yourself then get a better mirror, look a little closer, stare a little longer"

I need Jesus. (Found this gem via Pinterest... feel free to follow me http://pinterest.com/bcurtis97/pins/ )

Jesus we need you.


Oh and one other thing - I've become a Monkee... Not gonna lie, it feels a little bit like a cult, but if you haven't read her yet, you have to start following Glennon Melton over at Momastary. She's the bomb, and she's legit. 
http://momastery.com/blog/


Until we meet again dear friends (I promise I'll be back sooner!)
Your dearest,
Beth

Who Am I?

This is a piece that I wrote for our school's student publication, the DockuNet. I really do love it though, and still fully believe these things!

Like many other theater fanatics, I packed into a large theater on Christmas evening to watch the beloved classic, Les Miserables. I loved it. It’s in situations such as these that I wish the English language had more versions of the word love so that I could express my enthusiasm accurately. I adored it. Warning: this article contains a number of spoilers!

Among the numerous themes in the movie, all equally meaningful, was the concept of identity and self. Jean Valjean, the story’s protagonist, served 19 years of hard labor as punishment for stealing a loaf of bread to feed his hungry sister and her child.  When his jail sentence is up, the inspector, Javert, comes to explain the conditions of his parole and, frankly, to intimidate and belittle him. Javert refers to Val Jean as 24601, his identity as a prisoner, and Valjean responds, “No! My name is Jean Valjean.”  It is the beginning of a long journey for Valjean to attempt to erase his identity of a dangerous convict and become a respected man once again.

Once released, Valjean finds it impossible to secure a job and a home because everyone knows he was a prisoner and shuns him. The only person who shows him trust and kindness, a priest, is the same person he steals from in order to survive. This priest shows him forgiveness and grants him amnesty on the conditions that he take the silver and use it to become an honest man.

This act of grace and kindness causes Valjean to reconsider everything that he is.  In his soliloquy, “What Have I Done,” he sings, “They gave me a number and murdered Valjean when they chained me and left me for dead, just for stealing a mouthful of bread. Yet why did I allow that man to touch my soul and teach me love? He treated me like any other. He gave me his trust, he called me his brother…  He told me that I have a soul…  And I stare into the void, to the whirlpool of my sin, I’ll escape now from the world, from the world of Jean Valjean. Jean Valjean is nothing now, another story must begin!” And with this song, he tears up his parole papers, and officially becomes a new man, making Jean Valjean, prisoner 24601, disappear, for what he thought was forever. He becomes a new man, an honest, benevolent, kind man.

Later though, his identity as 24601 returns to haunt him as he again comes face to face with Inspector Javert.  Valjean learns though that Javert has arrested another man who he thinks is 24061, and this innocent man will be sentenced to the hard labor that belongs to Valjean. Again, Valjean must confront the question, Who am I? Am I a man that can allow this to happen? Am I a man that deserves punishment for creating a better life? In the song, “Who am I,” he asks, “Who am I? Can I condemn this man to slavery, pretend I do not feel his agony? My soul belongs to God I know, I made that bargain long ago, he gave me hope when hope was gone, he gave me strength to carry on. Who am I? I’m Jean Valjean. Who am I? 24601.”

This is what was fresh in my mind as I listened to Robin Dean return to speak in Chapel the day we returned from winter break. One of her “epiphanies” after leaving this place was about the way that we allow ourselves and others to limit and define people, and especially how much this occurs in high school. She isso right, and I’ve been looking around lately and noticing all the labels and lies that we allow to define who we are and what we do.  Labels aren’t always negative though. Sometimes we think they help explain who we are: I’m a theater kid, I play sports, I sing, I’m good at school. These are all valid talents, but the problem in turning them into labels is that suddenly they become walls that keep us back. They separate us from one another. They keep us from discovering new gifts and talents.

When I was in elementary school, I played sports, numerous sports. I played soccer and softball and did gymnastics. For me, it was always more about the social aspect of the sports, not the love of the game or drive to win. When I reached middle school I discovered that at my large public school, I couldn’t dabble in everything. I had to pick an area and focus on it in order to thrive. I had to be the best at something to have a place. So I gave up sports quite willingly and became involved in organized theater and music. I found my love for singing, and discovered that I had a talent for it. I made the cut for various groups and enjoyed building relationships in these new groups of people. I willingly labeled myself as a “theater kid” and “choir kid” and that was that.

Labels are sometimes like a safety blanket. We can wrap ourselves in them and feel secure and protected when in reality there is nothing standing between us and the things of which we are afraid. We think that labels equal belonging, but it’s not always true. We think that labels give us acceptance and confidence, but they don’t. Regardless of what we label ourselves, the fears are just as real. Labels aren’t strong enough to hold back our fears of rejection and loneliness and brokenness. Labeling yourself as perfect doesn’t mean you actually are.

When I transfered  to Dock as a sophomore, I found that things were a lot different socially. There was no group of “theater kids” for me to belong to. Being into choir didn’t grant me access into any special group – everybody sang around here. My labels didn’t do me any good, so I dropped them. During the last three years, I’ve picked up and dropped a number of labels, some I like; some I hate. I’ve watched others pick up the labels that I dropped and cling to them for dear life. It makes me jealous and sad that I chose to give up those labels, but ultimately I’m on a journey towards allowing myself the freedom to be who I am without limiting myself with these definitions of what I’m good at, what I can do, and who I can be friends with.

Because I haven’t done sports in so long, I’ve often allowed myself to take on the label of un-athletic.  For sure, I am out of practice at least, and when playing soccer for example, with people who have played all their lives, I certainly can’t compare, but I realized again recently that I’m far from being un-athletic.  On a recent youth retreat, we were playing volleyball, and one of my friends commented, “Wow, you’re actually not bad at this.” The year before I had allowed that label to define me so much and people to joke about me being so unskilled, that I chose not to play, or got anxious and played badly when I did jump in. Finally this year, with just me and a couple friends and a bunch of freshmen that I didn’t know, I just played and it turns out that I can play.  As I look back on my life I see, over and over again, opportunities where I chose to sit out and watch because I thought I couldn’t play. I see soccer games with Touring Choir, in Europe and in Ohio, where I chose to sit and watch. I see Staff In Training games at Spruce Lake where I chose not to play volleyball or compete with my tent of 12-year old girls in floor hockey because I thought I couldn’t play. I see sophomore gym where I would get so anxious because I didn’t know anybody and I was forced to bare my poor unathletic self to these strangers.  I see so much wasted energy and untapped joy. All this time, I could’ve played, but I allowed others to label me because I followed one path and not another.

I remember talking to my mom last year about a frustration with Advanced Math and just saying, “I am so not a math person!”  She pointed out to me that I’ve never done badly in math. I’ve always gotten A’s, always understood it – I just often don’t enjoy it. There’s a difference.  I labeled myself and it definitely affected the way that I acted. It affected the attitude that I brought to math and affected my reactions to frustration and not understanding something. 

We live in a world that is constantly trying to label us, define us, box us in, limit us. The world says, “This is who you are.  Now stand here, don’t change and don’t move.”  And what is  the worst part? The worst part is that we willingly agree and stand where we belong. Then we stay there, and we look around and see others standing in their corners, and somehow they just seem too far away… too far to talk to or laugh with or be friends with. We all spend our lives looking around at people we could and would be friends with, if we just had more in common, and we never make a move. Like obedient children, we stand in our corner and stay comfortable.  Meanwhile, the entire beautiful and precious world is happening just outside of our corner.

We miss all the important things by staying where we are.  Comfort zones are fatal. We just can’t allow this anymore. No more labels, no more definitions, no more walls between us. After all, we are all one in Christ Jesus! Jesus came to destroy these labels. He was very clear that we have to love one another to survive. We can’t spend the rest of our lives standing on the sidelines because we were told we “can’t play.”  The big secret is that you don’t have to be beautiful or smart or athletic or funny to play.  Playing the game will make you those things.  Come just as you are. Drop the labels that you cling to. Destroy the walls keeping you in. And run towards the game. Run!  We just don’t have the time to waste on wishing and wanting. The reality is that you aren’t safe. You may think it, you may feel it; you may think that you find acceptance and protection where you are, but you don’t. The only way to escape these fears of rejection and loneliness and brokenness is to be rejected, be lonely, be broken, and embrace these things in other people. We aren’t perfect people.  Rather, we are a people made perfect by the beautiful love and grace of our perfect God.

Catharsis

I recently wrote a letter to a friend of sorts, and it felt good to write, and I feel like it explains so much of my heart and my life lately

I'm lost G. I don't know how I got here or how to get out. I don't see an end to this darkness, and I don't know how to get to daylight. I feel so alone, so achingly lonely, like it could actually crush me. I'm consumed with bitter jealousy - I just can't break out of this awful cycle of comparison with a friend, and it's destroying me. I know who I am, but I don't know how to be that person. I don't know how or when I stopped feeling satisfied that who I am and how I act were aligned. I am so tired. So completely and utterly exhausted. I can sleep for hours at any time and still feel tired. More than feeling tired, I feel drained and empty.

I just love everyone around me so much that it hurts sometimes, but I don't know how to express that anymore. I'm terrified that this is who I am now, and that this will be the rest of my life. I'm terrified that I'm going to be alone for the rest of my life, because as much as I love others, I don't feel like I can be loved in return. My mind tells me that I am loved, but my heart can't believe it. I know that others won't show me love the same way that I show them, but dammit I just want for once somebody to be as considerate of me as I always am of them. I want to be loved more. I want someone to realize that I'm not ok, and I don't know how to get "ok" again.

Last year I loved this guy, and I really mean loved. He was my very best, tell everything to, friend for two years, and I realize that it doesn't sound very long, but really that is 1/8 of my entire life, so it was pretty significant. Finally we dated for 8 beautiful and heartbreaking months, and it was just as good as all the songs said. My heart was full and I sang and danced and laughed and felt safe and loved and secure in who I was. He whispered all the things that my heart wanted to hear for so long, and I believed all these things. I believed him when he said that I was compassionate and Christ-like, loving and beautiful. I accepted these things and my heart opened so wide. And then he walked away and said it was all a mistake, he should've never said he loved me, he didn't know what love even is. All of those truths that I soaked up were actually lies? My heart knew that it wasn't true, but I believed it anyway and suddenly I could no longer be those things. I pulled away, I began letting people down, I hated myself. I just withdrew further and further into myself and nobody noticed. And then I realized that nobody noticed that anything was wrong, and I felt so very alone, and still do. There are a couple people who I've come so close to unloading everything to, but I always stop just short of sharing my pain. I don't want to burden anybody else, and in the grand scheme of things, my pain is so small and insignificant. My life is so privileged and blessed, and I feel stupid thinking that I have this big awful pain, but it sure feels like it.

I have so many wonderful friends surrounding me, but I am paralyzed with fear when it comes to asking any of them for help. I don't know how to ask, I don't want to bother them. I'm afraid to ask people to make time for me even though I make so much time for them. I'm afraid that I'm going to discover that I'm not worth it to them. In my head, I have these conversations over and over again, bits and pieces of conversations where I say exactly what I need to and they hold me while I cry, but I just can't do it in real life, and I want to in the worst way, but I'm just so afraid. I've always been the brave one, but I don't know how to do this. And I love God, don't get me wrong, but I never understand how people talk about handing their troubles over to God and it being all better. It sounds like a nice figurative statement, but in reality I need people. I need some people to love me, and share some of God's love with me. 

There's so much more I wanted to say in this, but I just can't remember everything. I guess I'll get through this by just continuing to get up every day and face life. It's so hard though, and I just hide this pain inside because it's so complicated to understand and the only one who it would be easy to talk about this too walked away last summer. I even hate how I'm coping. I am on Facebook so much, it's honestly ridiculous G, but when I'm feeling numb I just scroll through and see things from my friends and sometimes it makes me smile and sometimes it brings the pain back but either way I do it so much. And then I hate how I'm on it so much compared to my friends, the ones who have everything together, and despite confessing perfectionism, continue to strive for perfection in everything and hiding anything that's not perfect and positive. Well, and I also listen to Mumford and Sons music compulsively but who could blame me for that?

Much love,

Beth

Gifts that keep giving

Welcome once again to the holiday season! It becomes so hard this time of year to separate the true spirit of Christmas from the rampant consumerism and materialism. In my life, no matter what I request, my family will still spend money on me. I've conceded that the best I can do is thoughtfully create a wishlist. I try to pick gifts that will give back, and support others. I have a few organizations that I simply adore, for both their products and their missions! If you find yourself in the same situation, and are looking for an altruistic way to participate in Christmas, here are a few ideas for you!

Slim from the SUUBI collection at Light Gives Heat
http://www.lightgivesheat.org/collections/all-products/products/slim

I just adore this collection of jewelry! I have three necklaces and a set of earrings from these folks already. All of their jewelry is made with paper beads. The paper beads and the necklaces themselves are made by women in Uganda as a way to support themselves and their families. I have two Slim style necklaces, the Mustard one and the Wildberry one. I wear them all the time, and they between the two, they have colors in them that match every outfit! I love the dark glass bead detail in this necklace in particular.


Multi-Knit Women's Classic TOMS
http://www.toms.com/womens/classics/multi-knit-women-s-classics

You have to know this about me - I am a huge TOMS fan. I currently have five pairs, but there's always room for more ;-) These shoes are cute and cozy for winter, adding a little extra warmth that regular TOMS lack. And the mission of TOMS (if you are unfamiliar) is that for every one pair of shoes bought, they give a pair of shoes to a child in need so that they can go to school and avoid getting worms and other parasites. Perfect justification for buying one more pair of shoes!


Hold Your Own Messenger Bag
https://thehungersite.greatergood.com/store/ths/item/43436/hold-your-own-messenger;jsessionid=981C6D896525409B003B8BAB3353775E.xs-c?source=4-3001-9

This bag is so cute and very functional! I can just imagine carrying my books around school in it. These bags are made by women in Nepal who support themselves through this project, but also receive education and some health services from the Women's Skills Development Project, sold on the Hunger Site. Comes in two colors too! Black and brown


Hello Somebody Watch
http://hellosomebody.bigcartel.com/product/watches

These are the watches that started it all! Hello Somebody started originally selling these watches as a way to fundraise for their organization which provides care for children, focusing on four areas: food, education, hydration, and freedom. The extra plus is that every time you look down, you'll see this watch and you can remember the child that you're helping, and maybe say a quick little prayer for him/her.

Project 7 Goodies
http://www.project7.com/

These are great stocking stuffers, or even just little gifts for friends. All of their products benefit one of the seven "project" areas: heal, save, house, feed, quench, teach, hope. They sell a variety of small products like coffee, gum, bottled water, cell phone cases, etc. The best part is that these products are even for sale at most Wal-marts and Targets, and they are affordable! Couldn't be easier to change the world! (-:

Cotton Modern Eco Handbag
http://www.earthdivas.com/acb-010-cotton-modern-eco--handbag.aspx

This is my favorite bag right now! I really want it for school; I just love the print and colors! It is fairtrade certified, and also eco- friendly. You can rest assured that everyone was fairly paid for their contribution to this product, and that it helps, not harms the earth. What more reason do you need to buy it?!

Reflections on LA - lessons in love

It's been almost a month since our Youth Venture group has parted, and I've done plenty of reflecting. I've found though that I am having a difficult time putting the experience into writing. For me, the queen of words, this comes as quite the surprise. As I was preparing to share with my home congregation, I found myself getting frustrated that I couldn't explain everything well enough, or share all of the lessons I had learned. Perhaps it is simply that the experience is too holy for words. Are there ever words to describe God? And really, isn't that what we encountered in LA - God? So now, faced with the impossible task again, I think I shall focus on describing some of the lessons I learned, instead of the experience itself.

Lesson number one: it's important to follow the calling of the soul, and to surrender ourselves to float in the current of God's will. For each of us in the group, it seemed random that we ended up in LA. I came because I was scrolling through my Facebook feed, saw a post about the trip, and felt an instant pull to go. Tess came because she heard about the trip on a blog. Matthew came because his cousin urged him to go on the trip. Jordan came because Matthew told him about it. Tayllor was supposed to go to Africa, but the doors closed to that and opened to LA. I had a feeling soon into the trip that God brought us all together for a reason. From the very first day, the group felt like family, like home. Though we may never meet again, or as a group at least, each person: Tess, Matthew, Jordan, Maya, and Tayllor, they all have a special place in my heart. God brought us together for service and learning and late night heart to hearts.

Lesson two: we're all family. This was a recurring theme of this trip. It felt like wherever we went, we were welcomed and treated like family - and in reality we were! The vastness of God's family astounds and touches my insignificant heart. To travel across the country and still feel a sense of welcome and belonging - it is amazing. We were welcomed into Maranatha's congregation during a tender time as they said goodbye to their beloved youth pastor, and we were allowed the privilege of standing by and listening to the memories and seeing the tears. We got to hear prayers and share in the holy moments of community. We were treated like family. It was the same at Family Mennonite. From that first Sunday morning, we were showered with hugs and blessings from everyone in the congregations. They allowed us to join with them in their Vacation Bible School ministry, and they welcomed us into their lives that week. We got to hang out with the youth like old friends, and be blessed by the elders as if we were their own youth.

Lesson numero tres: it feels good to be loved. As I was telling a friend about some of our experiences in LA, and the warmth of the greetings that we received everywhere we went, she said, "It feels good to be loved, doesn't it?" Why yes, it does. It feels great to be loved, and what we received in LA felt even better because it wasn't our tiny human love, it was God's love. We weren't loved for who we are or what we can offer or we've done or anything like that. We were loved from the very first moment because we are children of God, and nothing has ever felt better. To be loved feels wonderful, don't get me wrong! It feels great to be loved by parents and friends and people who know us deeply, but there is something holy and special about being loved by people who know nothing more than your name, if even that! As Mumford and Sons says, "Love: it will not betray you, dismay or enslave you, it will set you free, make you more like the man you were meant to be." Love feels good friends.

Lessons number four: Humility is the most beautiful thing. During the Sunday morning English service, there was a sharing time, and something happened that makes me tear up still, even as I write this. A man shared about his landlord whose baby granddaughter was recently diagnosed with cancer. Last month, he had offered to pray for her, and the landlord accepted. A month later, when he went back to pay his rent again, he asked about the little girl only  to hear that things had gotten worse. The man said that he would say another prayer for her, and the landlord slammed the door in his face. Many Christians I know would respond to this situation with arrogance. They would pray for the "nonbeliever" or the "unsaved" like they were on a higher moral pedestal, or that his man was somehow less for not wanting prayers for the soul crushing situation he was faced with. This man who was sharing was so different though. He asked for prayer for his landlord, that he could know God's love throughout this time and then he said something that touched my heart, "I hope I didn't do God a disservice." This man's humility was strikingly beautiful. What would the world be like if more Christians were concerned about truly serving God and loving others, instead of getting on our cloud of judgement?

Lesson five: Service isn't about feeling productive or accomplished or anything like that. There were many times on this trip that we realized how little we mattered in terms of what we could offer to the people that we "served". I mean, we quickly realized;that although we were serving Maranatha, without us they still could organize a VBS. The families at the Korean Housechurch could get a babysitter. The Peace and Justice Academy could have students or parents do the tasks that we did. Family Mennonite could easily pull off VBS without our help, and Maranatha youth could've painted their new youth room. The service wasn't about us and how great and talented we were. We weren't especially needed for being us. We simply helped out, or checked things off of somebody else's to do list, but by the end of the trip, we realized that the heart of service lies in the little things. As Mother Teresa once said, "Be faithful in the small things, for it is in them that your strength lies." It could've been easy to get discouraged on this trip by how "unneeded" we were, and how little we could give back to the people that gave us so much, but we helped where we could, and we were faithful in the small things. On one Saturday, as Tess and I were scrubbing the walls of numerous classrooms at the Peace and Justice academy, it seemed like our actions were fruitless and pointless. Moving along with growing discouragement, I found a poster that changed my whole outlook on the day. It was a Ghandi quote that read, "Of course what you are doing is insignificant, but it is important that you do it anyway. " Can I get an amen? What we did on this trip was entirely insignificant, but it was so important that we did it anyway. Last but not least, number six: home is a feeling not a place. Home is where family is, whether it be biological, or spiritual. Though it was thousands of miles from my bed, Los Angeles was just as much home as Lansdale, Pennsylvania is. I felt at home and at peace during our two weeks in sunny California. I saw and felt God's love everywhere I turned, and met new family every day. Los Angeles has a special place in my memories and my heart, and I hope to someday (hopefully even soon) return to my West coast family. I thank everyone that we met from the bottom of my heart. The hospitality, kindness, and love that you showered on us was extravagant, and don't think that it went unnoticed or unappreciated. I love you, and hope that we will someday meet again. I look forward to someday being able to welcome you into my town and my life like you welcomed me to yours.

Until we meet again,

Your sister in Christ,
Beth

Mary, Martha, and Lessons in Love

While I was in Los Angeles, we attended church at one of our outreach churches, Family Mennonite: an church filled with first generation adults from Belize, and kids born in Los Angeles. Hopefully I'll get around to writing an account of the dynamics, as well as the whole experience, but for now, just settle for the knowledge that it was fascinating and very fun! One of the Sundays that we were there, it was youth sunday at this church, and the church's youth leader, Sister Jeanelle gave the sermon. She is currently studying at a Southern California seminary, and she is one of the most talented speakers I've heard. Her sermon covered a wide spectrum of thoughts, but ended on the idea of rest, and one of the stories she explored was that of Mary and Martha, and it sparked a lot of thought for me.

Let's just rewind and imagine this scenario. Two sisters, one house, one celebrity who just happens to be the son of God, just dropping by for a visit. Mary and Martha were probably sitting at home, enjoying their quite afternoon, when Jesus and his entourage take over their house. Both sisters were surprised, but they react in different ways. Mary chooses to sit in the living room and listen to all of Jesus's stories - after all, it isn't every day that the son of God stops by, or that a man would include her in his storytelling at all! Martha, on the other hand, heads straight towards the kitchen to prepare dinner. These people are going to be hungry soon, and somebody had better feed them!

After an hour or so, Martha is feeling pretty bitter. Here she is, slaving away in the hot kitchen while her baby sister sits in the cool front room with Jesus. Doesn't she know her place, her duties, where she belongs? How dare she neglect responsibilities in favor of listening to the men!? Finally, Martha storms into the living room. "Jesus!" she interrupts, "How can you let my sister do this? Don't you know that I'm killing myself in the kitchen to make your dinner? Why should she get to sit here and not do any work?!" And I can just see Jesus's expression as he turns to her. His eyes are full of grace and love, but he is pained that she is missing the point so greatly. "Martha," he sighs, "you still don't understand, do you? You have chosen to leave us and work, but Mary has chosen to listen to me, and she chose the better thing. I can't take that away from her!"

Maybe it finally clicks for Martha, or maybe it doesn't, but the story still speaks to us. Every day in life we are faced with a thousand choices like this. What do we choose? Where do our values lie? What is the most important thing, work, or community? So many of us choose the path of Martha, we choose to stress and work. When people come to our house (figurative or literal) we worry about the details instead of choosing to enjoy their company. We need to learn to put people first. I've learned lately that other things will fall into place. You can order out, you can make dinner with other people, you can just snack. People aren't going to remember your meal, that's not why they came over. Jesus didn't drop in on Mary and Martha because he knew about her cooking. People come to fellowship, they come for soul time, and community. They come because of how you make them feel, not because of what you give to them.

Mary saw how precious her time with Jesus was. She chose to laugh with him and listen to him and interact while she had the time. She had her priorities straight, and put people first.

Sister Jeanelle addressed a different angle to this story, that I also find just as valid. In our chaotic culture, we seldom find rest, and seldom make time for God, but consistently throughout the Bible, God is reminding us that he needs to be our first priority. The world is overwhelmingly filled with things that need us. It is so easy to get sucked into an exhausting cycle of trying to fill needs and solve problems, and in short, trying to save the world. We begin to see these problems as our own missions, things that we need to solve, and it leads to burn out. We pour ourselves into serving others, but at the same time, we are neglecting community. It's not our mission or our purpose, it's God's, and it's meant to be done in community. We can't do this alone - we were never made to! We work and worry and again and again, we fail to make God our priority. Martha stressed about serving others, but failed to see the value in spending time with God. Mary on the other hand "chose the better" and spent time at Jesus's feet. Service is important, and integral to our faith, but spending time with God is more important. It needs to be done first, before we can serve. We need to be filled by God before we can seek to fill others.

It's important to take time to rest, and come before God. Our world worships busyness, and I've fallen into that trap consistently. It's so easy to believe the lie that being busy makes me more valuable, more appealing, more satisfactory. It somehow makes me a better person , or increases my worth. I say that this is a lie for good reason. It leads only to burn out and exhaustion. Busyness has been my downfall. Adding one more thing suddenly topples the delicately balanced pile, and I'm left in a tangle of unfulfilled obligations and let downs. Placing my value in my ability to juggle many activities leaves me questioning my value when I drop a ball; when people stop saying, "My what a busy girl you are!" and start saying, "Are you sure you aren't taking on too much?"

It is important to value rest, regardless of what the world teaches us. What our world needs is more people, rested and filled with God's spirit, ready to tackle brokenness in partnership with other broken people. We can't do it alone my friends, and we certainly can't do it without God. Make time to rest this week, and fill yourself at God's feet.

Cathedrals in My Heart

As soon as school was out, I packed my bags and headed for Europe for an 18 day tour with my choir. It was an experience of a lifetime, and I learned a lot, and saw a lot. A reflection will also be coming for this trip, but here are some pictures meanwhile.

(Some of these photos are credit to a few of my choir friends with nicer cameras than I)