young, alone, in the wealthy wilderness

In the Bible, the wilderness is not often described as a place of wealth. It's a desert, it's wild, there's little water or bread.

My wilderness is not physically deprived. It's wealthy. Affluent.

I pay attention to things. I spent the whole evening looking at things people put in their homes. Some are quite ornate and brilliant looking but have no point but then to be brilliant and ornate looking.

I spend money. Money on myself. Money on other people. Hey, it's the Christmas and holiday season. I work up to 60 hours week for it. I feel as though it's well-deserved.

I pay attention to my looks. Assess myself in the mirror. I am happy when I look skinnier or I drop a size. I get upset when I can only squeeze into those jeans.

I pay attention to my social life. I have lots of friends all over the area. It's not hard for me to find something to do over the weekend. I love being around people, and meeting new people. I am even getting better at small talk.

I pay attention to culture. I somewhat keep up with books, music and movies. I pride myself on my knowledge of these things and, depending on the crowd, that knowledge does well in small talk.

I have nothing to hunger for, nothing to thirst. I can go grocery shopping whenever I want. Sometimes I go without eating. Not because I purposely do to lose weight. I get busy. Wrapped up in other things. I ignore a basic human need to fulfill my vanities. Whether it's reading in a coffee shop, watching a movie, or updating facebook status (not like any of these are bad in itself).

I think it's funny with how much I love food (it's my passion), I put off this instinct to eat so often. But I find it even more strange how it parallels with my spiritual life ( and that could write itself a novel).

One of the things I am most hungry for is love. I don't mean love between a man and a woman (although, one day, that would be nice). I mean the love between any two human beings. A love that's found in close-knit community- in family, in friends, even in neighbors. A love thats spurred on by God's love in us.

I don't feel like I have that most of the time. Every once in awhile I do feel that, and I am overwhelmed with gratitude and glee that people could love me so and I could love them. I know people love me, and there are people out there I love very dearly.

Nowadays, I don't live on a college campus anymore, and I don't live at home with my parents. Being single and independent is quite liberating in a lot of different ways. But it's also lonely.

I love taking communion- the love that's expressed in it is multilateral. You see an image of Christ's love for you and you share in it with others. At my church back home and in my Leesburg church, communion is often shared by families. A whole family walks up and takes communion together. I love it.

But when I am at my Leesburg church, I am by myself. I don't have a direct family. It's strange. Sometimes I go up with a family I sit with, and sometimes by myself. I feel gratitude for that family letting me in on this time, but I also wish that there was someone beside me who WAS family.

I have family everywhere. By blood and by friendship.

Being single and independent in northern VA, I mourn my loss. Of course I have them. But it's not immediate. I don't wake up next to even my dog. I don't smell my dad's eggs in the morning. I don't have a husband to confide in, nor a best friend close by.

I felt this loss deeply at a Christmas tree lighting. It was just a silly, non-climatic half hour of my life-- but in that time I saw families, neighbors, friends-- people who were connected together. None who I knew. I was there alone, and a stranger in the place. I have only been in Leesburg a few months. When I used to go to things like this by myself, I would stumble into people. Even if it's a friend you're not intentional with, you feel connected and you feel loved when you can go somewhere at random will and find people there.

This is my wilderness. Leesburg. And I love this place. Don't get me wrong. But here, I am thirsty and hungry, and it's hard to find any food. Distracted by technology, materials, and work, I keep myself there, just like anyone else. I have found a church where I think I can find a family and I think I only went once in the whole month of November.

I have family. They're scattered everywhere. I go to Manassas, Burke, Arlington, Newport News and everywhere else to see them. I have family all over the country, even throughout the world.

But I need family here. But, when will I try to fill this hunger?

I am hungry for..

-God, Jesus, Spirit- three in one

-Community achieved on a deeper level

-Scripture- I have kind of been at a loss of where to start lately

-to be satisfied in my singleness

-to lay aside my hunger to be in a relationship to pursue more important things

(putting God back as #1, justice, righteousness, closer friendships)

-the pursuit of close and intentional friendships (especially where I am currently located)

-fellowship with other women

-responsibility

-playtime

-good reads

-to feel beautiful and know that I am

- a continuous prayer life

- to become what I am meant to be in Christ

- a lack of apathy to pursue these things

I am grateful for..

(in no particular order)

New clothes

seeing Laura McGrath (being encouraged by her, and being vulnerable)

being able to switch cars with my dad so I do not exceed miles on my car lease

finally getting to go on a movie date with the Seegers

seeing my best friend Bekah

the fact that two of my best friends are dating

encouraging Frontline sermons

finding a little church to go to in Leesburg

the church family I still have in other places

a God who sees me as beautiful, rather than a crooked, ugly thing

my parents' relentless sacrifices

having a bedroom to go back to at my parents' house

being able to eat food on a somewhat more regular basis

being able to lay down and rest when I am sick

being able to help feed a family in need for Thanksgiving

being able to make direct contact with them

being inspired by small things

listening to good music is always therapeutic

getting engrossed in movies with weak plots and bad acting just to spend time with my dad

having friends nearly everywhere i go

seeing the miracle that is my older brother, Justin

a God who will not forget me even when I don't see him

a week of thanks, giving, and food

Suddenly, I have a new appreciation for Thanksgiving this year.

Early years-- it was never a big deal. It was a good time to hang with family, especially if relatives came but the constant consumption of football put a damper on things. I always fought to watch the parade and start watching Christmas movies. I also fought to play games. Sometimes they would appease one of these notions or make me watch my movie in the other room. I never liked watching movies alone on Thanksgiving. On good memory was of my cousins coming one year (cousins who I had only met once as a very small child) and one of them watching Little Nicky with me. Yes, an awful movie, but the fact that I had a family member who would prefer bad movie over football meant a lot. A

Also, I always hated Thanksgiving food. Turkey and cranberry sauce has never done it for me. My favorite food memory was when my grandma came to also hates this kind of food. We had lasagna.

While in college, it was a great time to catch up with family but a major roadblock in getting your work done. Thanksgiving marked the time huge papers were due or would be. It always was an issue going home to bring work with me or not. There was always so much work to do during this holiday.

Last year, I worked at Starbucks. We were given a list and we had to choose 3 holidays to work. Since I did not choose Thanksgiving, I thought I was in the clear. But then I got scheduled to work 4am on Black Friday. What a sham-- that should've been one of the holidays on the list.

On Tday, I ate a big meal, drank some wine, and then went to bed. It was a good night's sleep.

This year, Thanks giving has new meaning. I have been working almost 60 hour weeks due to having two jobs. Because the coffee shop job I now have is on a college campus, we're closed down for the whole week of Thanksgiving. Also, I have a two day holiday from my full-time job.

I am delighting in the amount of free time I have this week, but in recieving this blessing I want to use it to bless others.

If you would like to be involved in a Thanksgiving week food delivery, please let me know.

As far as other things I want to do this week- more frivolous, but enjoyable things, I have constructed a list:

It may seem like a lot. And I probably won't do all of these, but many of them are passive enough. Everything with a star means I would love to do this with someone else. Let me know!

Watch season 1 of Arrested Development on Hulu*

read two books I just bought

go to funky coffee shops and read or hang out*

pick a book of the Bible to start reading*

learn a cool recipe to cook up for Tday

eat the food in my fridge*

start looking for Christmas gifts*

pray about missional opportunities

watch at least 3 movies I haven't seen*

write one entry on my food blog

write one entry on my personal blog(done)

look further into grad schools

sleep a normal schedule

find new bands to listen to

journal a lot

straighten my hair

catch up on my bills

clean and vacuum my car

consider Christmas decorations*

but then..

list everything I'm grateful for.

(As trite as it sounds to do this time of year, thinking about the things in life you are thankful for is tremendously beneficial for you, your relationship with God and your relationship with people. I am thankful for the opportunity to do all these things on the list which I ordinarily do not have all the free time for.)

and finally

list everything I am hungry for

(I am not talking about food. I am taking about maintaining the wellness of our whole selves. As human beings, we are all hungry for something and never satisfied. Sometimes we do not even realize what we are hungry for. We need to step back from our lives for a moment and look into them with new eyes. I need new eyes to see and new ears to hear. I need a refreshed heart with purpose, passion and vision. I think analyzing what we are not getting our fill of does help. This can be done in several ways. A couple years ago, I took a vision fast. I broke myself away from the computer, away from food besides fruits and water and sought God's will for my life. Looking back, I admire the zeal I had. I don't have this same impassioned pursuit today. God did not give me any clear answers, but he did give me a direction which caused me not to apply for certain ministry roles. I was hungry for vision. And in that case, I actually made myself physically hungry to feed myself.)

my movie star life

I have not written on here in awhile. Most of my thoughts and reflections have been too private and personal, even to write in a journal. I have avoided journaling because of the personal connection between your experiences, thoughts and emotions that writing evokes.

So I make it a movie.

I know I am not alone in this. Particularly in this cultural milieu, everyone seems to do it. It makes things more comfortable for me and gives it more order. If I can arrange my life as narrative, then it makes it more like a story than my life in actuality. So I have frames which constantly flash in mind, in and out. It's hard to translate them to paper because they're so photographic, however I do keep an accompanying novel along with the movie up in my head.

Where does this come from? I am idealistic and in many movies the plots work out toward the ultimate ideals. In my movies, I am gorgeous and every guy is in love with me. Of course, this is only partially true. :) In real life, I am only half as attractive as I imagine myself and I better hope that they don't like me because my camera's too unfocused. In my movies, I can make every scene more romantic or more lively. I can make it more whimsical, more magical. I can pretend. I can make believe that life is extraordinary without actually living an extraordinary life.

I think I would rather live an extraordinary life then pretend.

Movies also help shape other circumstances in my life-- those that I don't bring up in casual conversation, because they've affected me too strongly to even know how to bring up to people while relating their actual effects on me. I can make my life a drama, a black comedy, a journey film. I can re-create my journey to make it less real. I can place montages in the proper places, as building blocks of myself.

I love a good montage. Live my life according to song.

This way of seeing life may be seem creative, even constructive and slightly amusing, but all it does is create a 4th wall between myself and my life. It creates distance. Even that, self-absorption, because I am more engrossed in my own life than anyone else's. I can leave myself on a cloud and drift for awhile.

My flesh loves to do this. My spirit hates it. My spirit tells me that there's a lot more than modern day defense mechanisms, and that the movie life is not all what it seems.

ChurchinFlux

I want to direct you to a blog I am gonna be a part of, for no purposes other than initiating discussion of matters of the universal Church. This is something that my heart and mind is heavily invested in: I invite you to be a follower or even a contributor. Hopefully everyone will contribute by discussing matters, but I am specifically looking for people who want to lend blogs to this site. I am not very good at blog upkeep, obviously. I also don't want this blog to be focused on one sole contributor and her individualized opinions. I would like everyone to become a part of this.

churchinflux.blogspot.com

where i am

Life comes with decisions and making decisions involves human motivations. I think I most fear my motivations.

However, I am beginning to let go. Release my guilt and shame upon the Cross and leave it there.

When I was scared of my motivations, it was hard to move forward, to make any big steps. But I feel somewhat ready now.

People often misunderstand my need for change. I don't hate Manassas. I am simply there. I don't feel any strong love for it, but there is no longer any dislike or discord between me and this place. I have existed back here for over a year, and I feel good and healthy about where I am now. I have come a long way.


This long year has carried a lot of sorrow. It's not quite a Job-like sorrow where he has everything, loses all of it, but faithfully seeks after God. I did not have everything, I lost some of what I had and for a good long while, after a lot of loud, boisterous yelling- I halted my seeking after Him. I just couldn't care anymore. Everything was hopeless. I sought my own understanding of things. I was more like the reflections of Solomon's life in Ecclesiastes.

Like Solomon, I had a lot of knowledge but I had pretention I passed off as wisdom. And that knowledge led to much grief, and that grief led to much dying. I let go of knowledge, and letting go of it was one of the best things I could do (even though I feel dumb). I am not saying I have stopped pursuing learning. I just don't strive to know everything and be the highly exalted enlightened one. I don't care about it anymore. It means absolutely nothing to me.

This year has involved a lot of letting go. There are some things I still need to let go of. God and I spoke together and we are on the same page--I know what I need to let go of. But it's the hardest challenge I have, and the one I feel the most pathetic talking about. But it's an idol that I always seek after instead of God. My seeking has to go toward a better direction.

Manassas is an odd town. And there are things I love about it. I know I eventually will leave- how and when are two things which remain a foggy mystery.

Hating a place and just simply knowing you don't belong are two different things. I am not meant to live here for a long time. But I will enjoy my time here.

How does one be content and discontent at the same time about where they are? I don't know, but that's where I am right now. I am perfectly happy, but striving forward. I know there's more for me out there. At one point my growth here will cease being and it will be time to move. It will not be out of discord. I will not cut myself off from Manassas.

I will not disappear off the face of the planet...but one day soon, it'll be time to walk forward.

In regards to the metro and missing children in Northern Uganda

This is only 2nd draft, so please keep that in mind. It has a lot of different trails, even though there's one main flow. There's still a lot of "tell" when there should be "show". But please, gimme feedback- I love it.

In and out of waking
My dad asked me about last night's
event, excited by the excitement I
presented the day before.
My dad only heard defensive tones.
I was not good at covering
I had nothing real to say.
But dad
grew to learn more about
the cause than I,
in just a 2 hour sitting
He did not recognize
my typical tone.
Enthused, he kept asking
what I'd do
what is next- letter to a Senator?
petitioning my friends? Giving money
to a run-down African village?

I couldn't see our faces. Only clearly
remember the voice tones-
the passion he carried shot down
the apathy I tried to hide.

The night before, I was on the metro
going over in my head a million times
what had just occurred.

I joined the choir of voices raised high,
and sat with friends on the hot lawn- I
was grateful for my boho sundress-
which allowed relief and made me stick out
through hundreds of the same t-shirt.
Taking pictures- I held back my sneezes-as
I was so glad to hold the banner high
(but what did it say again?)

And then came the bang,
that lit up the sky,
and I would see the heart of God.

People squealed and ran toward their possessions.
I wanted to stay through the first rain.

We came back together and a familiar voice started
speaking- so soft and foreign and eloquent.
I had known this voice in prior travels, but
barely paid attention.

The second rain struck our heads as he finished.
One by one my friends decided to go, and everyone
scattered. I knew the rain would cease, and the evening
would bring beauty. I knew sometimes you just gotta
go into things alone.

But when they disappeared, I did too.
Fled with new friends -- up the mall we went!
I held them back from running- a hiking backpack, yoga mat
and messenger bag- slowed me down.

It was raining again, before we reach the
Smithsonian stop- soaked when I climbed aboard-
everyone else was so dry.
Wet hair, muddy feet, trash bag dress-
as if I was a life-time nomad.

All the way home, I did not
consider the missing children.
Simply my lonliness...
and wondering where my adventure went.

It was the same old story
of every good deed I've ever done
I shared the Vienna ride with
a proper elderly couple-
(I shared my seat with the Mr.
when the train was too full).
And yapping teenage girls, and
the people
who go to the right school,
wear the right clothes
and have the right manners-
maybe I should've gotten off somewhere else.

I wasn't there to help-
I looked ready to be helped.
No missing dream people enchanted the train though-
except maybe me.

ughhh

I've inadvertently watched an unhealthy amount of movies the past few days dealing directly with quirky, slightttttly immature people and relationships.

It's good to know I'm not alone.

everything is loss (uh-oh) but I know you can give to the Lord

So goes the lyrics by one of my faves, Sufjan Stevens.

It rings so true in my life. Over this past year, I've gone through significant loss. I don't want to scare anyone who is about to graduate college, but I will tell you, be prepared.

One of my friends and I are going through a Beth Moore study on John: The Beloved Disciple. A year ago, I wouldn't be caught dead reading Beth Moore. Not because I knew anything about her or her theology, but because of a cheesy book title I saw from her, entitled "Get yourself out of that PIT." She's on the front cover, all made up and perfect looking with a big goofy grin, and in typical Janelle-fashion, I judged her and stuck my nose up at reading any of her bible study books.

But nevertheless, I am doing this study. One thing I like about it is that it's really quick and easy- a characteristic of a bible study I used to disdain. But it makes so non-threatening and approachable which is perfect for this time of my life. Except, her questions are not easy.

I stumbled over this following question yesterday. Not having any words. Not having any knowledge. I like to think of myself as someone with a lot of knowledge, but I came up empty-handed here:

What have you learned from seasons of separation - those moments when change and transition leave you feeling at a loss?

When I read that question and considered its implications, I wanted to throw the 2 pound book across the room. But I just stared at it, not knowing the answer. No words came up. I who normally have words for everything.

The loss of a college environment may seem to some to be insignificant. But, boy, it hasn't been for me. Everyday I get ready for work and drive my car an hour rather than riding Lady Green through campus, I feel like I've lost a huge part myself. I enjoyed a sizable amount of freedom to be who I wanted to be in college and I generally felt accepted.

I don't feel free here. And I am not blaming my church, work, friends or anyone around here. It's just so routine. And there were so many things I did in college that I don't feel at ease to do anymore.

If you're still in college and reading this, please don't take for granted what you have. I'm sure you commuter students have a totally different experience which won't amount to as much loss when you're done. But for those of you who are away at school and flourishing in your college environment, count your blessings.

Right now, I am beginning to let go. I am striving forward to find complete freedom in knowing Jesus Christ- and allowing my spirit to flourish through Him alone. I guess that's what I'm learning through my loss and my forever long transition period.

^"But whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ—the righteousness that comes from God and is by faith. I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, to attain to the resurrection from the dead."- Phillippians 3: 7-11

one day, i shall write a book on laughter

Would if you were given the capacity to see all of life's events, rather dramatic, traumatic or light-hearted, through humorous eyes?

is this strength? weakness?



both?


Though I may have a peculiarly weighty heart, I say everything with the same ironic tone. Because I view happiness and pain as directly linked co-existors. One cannot be without the other. So they are equal co-partners in delivering life's hearty laughter (I am one who has had to keep myself from laughing at a funeral).

I don't see this perspective as dark or cynical. I see it as accepting of all circumstances, but can be easily mis contrived on several many ocassions. Even when laughter is healthy, we need to practice caution in how and when we execute it.

seedling

When I stepped outside my work building in Purcellville today, I smelled a smell. It was a farmish cowlike smell, and quite honestly it's not very appealing. "Ahhhh," I thought. "So this is what P-ville smells like when it's not winter." I wasn't disgusted by the smell I hated so much as a little kid going to the Prince William County Fair.

Instead, the smell served as a reminder to me: "It's not quite winter anymore. It's time to start my garden."

Lately, I have had this lofty idea to start a community garden. In Manassas- wish me luck.

This idea has actually stayed with me for longer than most of my ideas (that is definitely a good sign). Though, I was shy to bring it up to my friends because I was afraid the idea would be rejected and dismissed as one of Janelle's idealistic hippie thoughts (which it is). But God works in cool ways, and he showed me about a month ago that other people are willing to take this on, and that it's even been revealed separately other people close to me (total confirmation).

BUT.
I am an extremely passive person, and will get all these great ideas but never act on them. But I very decisively determined to go buy seeds, but I didn't know where to go. And no offense to Manassas, but I thought the Purcellville area would be a better place to find good seeds.

As if led by some force outside my own determination, I went to the Hamilton General Store today. It was settled in a little house, and the store right next to it was closed down. I was greeted by the smell of flowery homemade soaps and a smiling lady behind the counter. "Wow!" I said. "It smells GREAT in here."
"I think that's just me!" said the lady. I liked her instantly.

I went on to ask her about seeds and she didn't sell any ( but does sell local meat and happy milk, as well as an assortment of ice cream, candy, and interesting foods you can only find at country stores). She was happy to tell me where I could find a seed seller...and then a man who had brought her happy eggs joined in on our conversation. I told them I was (gulp) learning how to garden, and was surprised that I shared with them my ever so naive idea to start a community garden. I thought it'd get a negative "you're a dumb hippie" response.

But the man told me in his slightly thick country accent about how he was looking into buying land for a community garden/farm where he'd keep goats and hopefully appeal to the hispanic/middle eastern communities. Good idea but I felt a sort of sarcasm in his tone which made me feel that he was being ficitious. I think it was when he mentioned something about seed insurance and the lady at the counter was laughing at him the whole time.

But we ended up talking for about 30 minutes about gardening. And now I have a good starting place. I was told that tomatoes are best grown in May after you're sure the frosting's over (but if it isn't, you can cover your tomatoes with milk gallons cut open), and that grains are what people typically start growing early. I was advised on what kind of tomato seeds I should buy and also to look up what foods are grown in a region (this is noted by a number. The lady said we were either 6 or 7). I was directed to a landscaping store in Lincoln which apparently has the best gardening expert in the area.

I remember at one point the man asked if I was gonna grow from seeds or from plants. I told him seeds. Plants would probably be a lot easier, especially for a beginner like me. But I always say, if you're gonna learn something, you gotta learn the right way. And seeds just make sense to me, because I need to learn about the growth and development of plant, and that's best way to do it, even if it means failure. Even if I don't reap a harvest this year.

Seeds are very important on a spiritual level. And I like crossing over spiritual and physical principles, because many times they are completely intertwined (like vines). For some reason (partially due to my redemptive gifting of teaching) I understand the biblical metaphors of gardening rather well, even though I have never gardened. Now I want to apply these principles to my real life. I want to draw near to land and let my hands connect to the ground. I believe that builds a stronger connection with God, because you have a stronger connection to His creation.

Seeds are also very important to this phase of my life right now, where there are just little tiny seeds spread out, waiting to take root. Purcellville is a seed because its farmland reminds of my desire to get closer to the source of my food. My job at Starbucks is a seed because I work with food and drink, and I learn to work with and talk to all sorts of different, and sometimes unusual people. My job in P-ville is a seed because I needed to reconcile myself to a community that I severed myself from in college (the religious right) and I am learning the importance of having an open mind and re-learning important perspectives conservatives have. Plus I am gaining important experience and I am working in an organization where passion is emphasized, and anything less than that is strongly discouraged. And I am working in a cause which I am coming to believe in (http://www.parentalrights.org/ - go there sometime). Living in Manassas is a seed...and that's a little bit more of a loaded explanation I won't go into.

God is preparing me for something, and it's gonna be grand, but very hard. I am grateful for everything he is planting in my life.

"i want to meet with you"

Yesterday, I had a revelational idea:

Like many mornings, I worked an early shift at Starbucks (4am-9am) and afterwards I started driving up to Purcellville for my other job. Well I only work 20 hours a week in Purcellville, and every Monday we're supposed to have a meeting at 5:15 (this is because all our interns are students and it's hard to get them all in the same room at the same time). Because I work there 5 hours, 4 days a week...it seemed illogical for me to come in at my usual 10:30 time and then stay til 6:15. But I was already halfway to P-ville when I realized that.

Normally, I take Rt 15 to Church Harmony Rd or Rt 7 West. But instead I drove up Rt 15 until I reached Leesburg's old town district, and I parked by the Washington & Old Dominion Trail (I think one of these days I'll bring my bike up there to ride after work). I sat down under a pagoda and ate my yogurt. I was going to get into the Word, but then I had to pee real badly. I did not want to cut my time short, so I went to find somewhere to pee. It was only fitting that I was by a creek, laden with rocks, but it was too much in the open for me to urinate at a public park.

I walked into a development of houses, thinking it'd lead to a street (Leesburg is confusing
) but it didn't. Instead, over a bunch of buildings I saw the sign (and it opened up my eyes). It said something about natural foods. And my heart jumped in rejoice. I walk down there hoping I wouldn't have to buy an $8 apple to use their bathroom. But they were hippies and so they let me. They warned me that they used their bathroom for storage, and was astounded that it was covered with books. I could've spent all day in that bathroom looking at their strange books. So I'm a big food nerd, but honestly not too many of their books appealed to me....a lot of them were about health and boring stuff like that. I wanted something more like the philosophical reasons why you should eat organic- nothing.

And then I went to a Cigar and Pipe store. And bought a a small pipe and cloves. I was elated. I tried to smoke when I returned to my spot, but it was too windy. I read Isaiah 55 and a couple Psalms and spent some time there. And then I left.

It may seem insignificant. But its things like this that I truly relish. Sometimes you just can't travel from one job to another and work non-stop. You need to slow yourself. Your need rest. Most importantly, I needed to spend time with my Father. This was the reason I stopped...but most of my time was spent exploring.

I know that doesn't sound restful. But exploring is both restful and exhilarating to me. In my walk with God, I explore a lot of things, and I am always exploring. Life is no fun when you can't explore.

I was lacking it. In fact, I had been lacking a lot of myself. Even when I was depressed in school, I was never quite as happy as I was there. But now I'm learning happiness, and accepting what God has for me. I feel like life is becoming full again. Christ is changing me all over again.

the redemptive gift of teaching

On Sunday I am sharing at New Covenant Fellowship for a few minutes about the redemptive gift of teaching, which I am. I may not end up sharing this(at least not all of it) on Sunday, but I'm compiling a list for the fun of it.

If you see anything on here that may just apply to me and not other teachers, let me know. If you have any quirky statements to add...please do.

you know you're a teacher if....

1-you take time to compile this list, avoiding some other task you need to do

2-you don't realize the efficient way to do something until you are 3/4 through it. but you kinda hate efficiency if it doesn't cover all ground. you want to do things RIGHT, so it's about the means, not the end.

3-you have a really weird connection with food. you're obsessed with it- cooking, eating, and sometimes even the concepts of gardening ( even if you don't garden). you are probably one of the best cooks you know, and you have a very selective palate. it's not a surprise if you've ever been a vegetarian. you might even make up words to fit your eating life style (i.e. i'm a "hospitalitarian")

4-you are very passive and could easily spend a whole day doing nothing. you often find yourself "meaning" to do a number of things.

5-while you're not the most super-relational person, you must always have some sort of connection to people. (that's why you're on facebook or texting alllll the time)

6-you have piles and piles of books sitting around everywhere. you're addicted to buying books and sometimes reading them. you probably have $70 of overdue fines to the library.but you're still very picky, and will usually drop a book after reading 1 or 2 chapters.

7-you are very skeptical to statements people present as truth. you have to do loaded amounts of research to verify anything. and then nothing ever really gets verified because you find the holes in the arguments you read. you don't see things in black and white, but there's a lot of haze (sometimes you get so obsessed with a controversial topic, that you interrupt your senior sem research paper to research the issue and then somehow find a way to integrate into your said paper)

8-you're very lengthy about everything. because you need validate statements you make. and then make a validation to validate that validation, and so forth. your speeches/talks are usually the longest out of a class of people. you even have to take steps to make smaller margins and use 11 sized fonts (vs. 12) to save paper.

9-you have probably achieved/or are achieving some level of higher ed...and will probably go further after that

10-you tend to have a very conceptual/intellectual/pr

ofessional relationship with god if you have one at all (since you doubt everything)

11-you feel a huge burden to know everything or just know enough to prove other people wrong

12-when you argue on a topic, you don't take it personally (but other people may get offended by how upfront you are... because you correct people. you have to.)

13-you internalize everything (unless you present your problems as a "lesson" to others). you ponder things over and over and over again, and let them marinate for a long time until they drive you crazy from your over analysis.

14-you're kinda slow with your ways...because things need to process over time.

15-you're very bad at maintenance. your car, your room, your everything outside of your social/professional/intellectual life often gets ignored. you're kinda messy.

16-you make jokes or ironic remarks that no one else seems to "get." you often make vague references to obscure things.

17-you'll edit this note several times.

published- 3rd time.

This marks the 3rd time I've been published (besides in the school newspaper and high school yearbook). First time, I was 17 and it was this youth testimony book called "Case Files." 2nd time was for Currents, CNU's Literary Magazine (I had two entries in there...and I don't mean to brag but my short story won first place).

And now here's the third time- Dr. Lee, my journalism prof from CNU has an online creative non-fiction magazine, and he liked a story I wrote for his class last year on the legitimacy of short term missions work.

So here's the newest edition of The Lookout.

I would love to hear your thoughts on the topic, so please post them on here!

mmmmmmusic

I am re-discovering my love for song lyrics. However, whenever I post them on my facebook status I get asked about them as if they apply directly to my life. Which in a slanted, symbolic way they are related. But when I posted "I was asleep and he woke me again" (a Sufjan stevens song about God calling Samuel) I got asked by my dad and brothers about which guy they should look out for who keeps waking me up at night. People get so literal. They should know I am hardly ever completely literal.

Music lyrics remind me of my first love- writing. This I have been ignoring, lately. I thought about that today- why am I ignoring my number one gift and possibly my life's calling? What excuse do I have? I talked to another writer recently (one who is actually writing) and she reminded me that writing is a muscle you need to keep exercising to grow stronger. Perhaps thats why I've been completely uninspired- I simply have not been working the muscle.

It's like going to the gym after ignoring it for awhile. I really really don't want to work out at those points- it's hard to work that energy back up. But once you do, you get motivated again and that energy starts coming.

So if I start writing, something will come. Maybe I should keep reading song lyrics and get back to the short stories of my muse, Flannery O'Connor. I don't have a lot of time to committ to reading novels... but there is nothing I enjoy more than a well-crafted short story.

slums

I cried the first 30 minutes of Slumdog Millionaire. I did not cry during any part of the movie that was more intense and hence would've been more appropriate to cry...no, I cried at the beginning.

I was practically sobbing in the theater, hoping that the 4 other people, who were there in the middle of a Thursday afternoon, wouldn't notice.

The scene I watched was of a group of boys playing where they're not supposed to...some police guards catch them and the camera closes in on 2 little boys trying to outrun these guards...sprinting into their slum community and trying to lose them.

The director did a beautiful job catching the slum they were in, and portraying the living conditions to the audience. It was the perfect introductory scene to show what conditions the protagonist came from.

I spent three weeks working in a slum in Nairobi called Kibera. Coming home from Kenya, I never really liked to talk about. I'd write about it sometimes. But I got very weird about talking about my missions experience. Nothing totally life scarring happened there. I did not witness some outrageously cruel events. But I did see cruelty: it was my own.

I asked God over and over again when I was in Kibera to pierce my heart for the slum. Why? When I walked through it, I did not feel any feeling I would have expected. I was absolutely numb. I wanted to feel love, but that numbness turned to almost apathy.

I had a few short interactions with people in the slums that didn't pierce my heart, but absolutely broke it. One situation can be portrayed by a scene in a short story I wrote a while back:

The girls nearly ran down the dirt roads to get to the Otiende compound where the sisters were waiting. They started down the trail, through a garland of flowers where men without jobs were hired to tend. The sisters greeted the men with a cheerful “habari zenu,” to which they replied, “mzuri sana!” The girls emulated the sisters in sing song vocals. Sr. Marie Rose engaged the men in dialogue neither of the girls’ Kiswahili was proficient enough to understand. However, one man was friendly enough to soon break out in English:

“Why are you Americans here?” His stern eyes looked Hannah in the face. “You so rich, you just touring through! This is where we live.” With a fearful zealousness, Hannah reached in her bag for a track, but Tamera interrupted before she could grab one.

“We’re here because we do care.” Tamera quipped. He turned towards the plainer girl.
“Ah, but you don’t care,” his chalky teeth spat. “You pass through and go on home.” The activist cast her eyes down to the dirt with nothing to say. Hannah looked at the man and noticed that his face was nothing but honest. “Jina nani?” she inquired, with the best smile she could force.
“My name is Peter!” the man exclaimed, surprised at Hannah’s attempt. “Na wewe?”
“Jina langu ni Hannah and this is Tamera.” The girls smiled angelically.
“We are not like all Americans,” the activist started again, enunciating her words articulately, so he could understand. “We want to help Kenyans like you and that is why we are here!”
“You want to help? Me?” His mustache curled up with his yellow teeth.
“Sure we do! That’s why we’re here!” Tamera said, starting to sound enthusiastic as Hannah, who nudged her, silently trying to communicate.
“I better get your contact info!” Before the girls had time to say anything, Peter dropped his tools and ran quickly to his tin house, searching for a scrap of paper. His house was swamped by sewage. He wondered what it’d be like if he ever made it to America.

Hannah looked at Tamera as if to say “Look what you did.” They were told many times not to give their contacts random Kenyans they met. Tamera looked back as the sisters and the girls started moving down the path. Peter sprinted to catch up. His hands flung excitedly in the breeze, gripping a dirty piece of paper. “Do you have a pen? Do you have a pen?” he cried. America was no longer so far away.

Tamera looked at him anxiously, not knowing how to respond. “No, I do not have a pen on me,” she lied. She carried one in her small journal and pen in her dress pocket.

There's very little question that Tamera, the "activist", was me. I walked into these situations like I was an American Hero, when really, there's very little I could ever do to actually help.

I guess, when you're overseas, your sins become a little bit more apparent. It's because of this that I almost have completely blocked my experiences in the slums out of my mind.

I can't watch movies like Slumdog Millionaire without feeling this pain that's associated with my guilt. 'Cause really this guilt never really left. People kept telling me that I should not feel guilt, so instead of dealing with it, I became apathetic to it. I left it all behind in Kenya. One movie I never finished watching was The Constant Gardener which was literally set in Kibera. I could never make it beyond the scene where the kids swarm the wife, chanting "how are YOU! how are YOU!"

I really need to embrace this pain, but it's still hard for me to reflect back on Kenya. But through much needed prayer, I know this guilt will be overcome with God's loving grace.

Above are just a few pictures I collected of Kibera.

between what i know i need to do and what i do

I have to let go of my distractions. Primarily of this year's big letdowns.

In the Bible, there are two kinds of fears (maybe there's more, but these are the two I'm concerned with). There is one which means dread (hebrew word for that isn't important to me, because I'd rather that concept. This reminds me of all my anxieties, heartaches and terrors.The other fear is the fear of the Lord, which people wrongly misinterpret, thinking we should be afraid of God. I mean, he is a powerful God so perhaps we be a little afraid. But the Hebrew word for this fear is yira. This is one of the most beautiful words to me, and one I hold dearly to my heart (I even have a necklace my best friend got made for me which says "Yira YHWH" in front of a tree.)

This word represents a holy fear, but it's closer to meaning reverence or awe.When I think about Yira YHWH, I think about my Father positionally. I hold him above all my anxieties and dreaded fears. I hold him up in reverence because he is my King, Lord of my life, and Creator of all things. He is the restorer and redeemer of life. He is way beyond the little things of my life. His love is greater than all the pains and trials I could endure in my lifetime.

I wear Yira YHWH around my neck to remember. I can get very anxious. One of my problems doesn't have to be as big a deal as I make it, but I blow it out of proportion and take it personally. One of my biggest fears gets whispered to me as a lie- "You are alone in this world, Janelle. Completely alone. No one knows you and no one loves you." I know this dread is a trumphed up lie.What do I do? I need to fix my eyes upon Jesus. Fear him. Or yira him if you still don't like that word. If my heart is attentive towards him, these lies dissipate. Jesus has already taken victory over these lies. He won my life on the cross. On the cross he overcomes our biggest fears.

There you go. I know what I need to do. But does that mean I'll do it?

quiet

I haven't had a lot of time to be quiet lately. I could blame that on recently starting two jobs..but no. This started way before now. I don't even know when it started. But it's made my relationship with God not relational. Instead it's been reduced to following a system of values.

I do a lot of church stuff. And I know I need to cut it down. The problem is, I haven't yet committed to ministry with one church. I have this continuous discontentment with churches and I find that it's hard to be fed.

However, I am not so sure that the problem is necessarily with the churches. It's with me. I need to first cut down my involvements. Next I need to seek God in the quiet of the day.

Silence is golden. I don't spend a lot of time there. Even when my music's turned off and I am unexposed to any of media, my mind is still busy. It scrutinizes and over analyzes. It plans and it worries. It's self-absorbed...always seeing my life through the lens of a novel or a movie, instead of a real life.

Yesterday, I was on my way to work. I had my music on. It's counter-intuitive for me to turn it off. But I did. And to quiet the thoughts racing through my brain, I started praying aloud. It was the best thing to do. After that, instead of returning back to my mind of flesh, I just started worshiping God. It wasn't out of any triggering event. I did not have any emotions overwhelming to get to that point. It was simply a response. My first response in awhile that came without a complaint. It felt nice just to worship God without asking, asking, asking (which is all I had been doing).

I felt satisfied in God for the first time in awhile. It's so good just to feel content that you are walking in God's plan. Even if things are not as you expected. They're unpredictable and things are always transitional. Nothing stays. Except Him

places

"Stations make me think of my own travels
All the people
The places I've been through
And when you find out they're the same thing
As the people
The places where you grew"- Denison Witmer

I have always had a slight case of wanderlust. And while many people don't necessarily enjoy Manassas, I have mad cabin fever if I'm there too long. I got to get out. I have to see new places. There's something crawling around my heart that's tugging me to move. I know that's a weird way of saying it, but it's true.

I took up a new part-time job recently. And it's far away from Manassas. OK, it's an hour. Which isn't bad considering that most DC commuters from Manassas spend about 4 hours a day on the road. As much as part of me would enjoy a DC job, I am thrilled with the location of Purcellville.

First of all, there's the drive. If I want to be adventurous, I can take another route. There's hardly any traffic on the way up, especially because I leave Manassas later in the morning. And because it's daylight, I can see all the trees waving by.

There's something about the countryside that makes me wistful and a little more happy inside. There's so much land all around. Driving through the land today made me realize how little land there is in Manassas. Everything's developed.

And there's something about the countryside that makes want to explore, even at the risk of getting lost for hours. I am less prone to do this because of the mileage and gas I already spend. I see all these roads which point to wine vineyards and one of these days I will just turn into one and keep driving.

And then the houses. Sometimes I say I'll never live in a house. But I do want one. And I mean the houses in town, which are close to businesses and were built a very long time ago, so they need to be restored. And I would NEVER want a house to myself, or to just few people. If I lived in house, I would want to live with a whole community of people. I know it sounds like a silly hippie dream, but I don't care. It's more affordable and it gives serious lessons in learning how to love others.

I see so many houses. Ones on huge plots of land, and ones seated right next to an old historic church. I see a lot of mansions, too. And I'm less impressed by those. I think mansions are sort of greedy unless you house lots of people...but who needs all that space if you're just down to 1-5 people. It doesn't make sense. I'm from a family of 7, and it wouldn't make sense for us. I think what bothers me about mansions is that the allure is the sense of status it gives to an individual.


I like exploring little towns. It's my favorite because you likely can't get lost but there's so much to see. But I went to one little shopping center in Purcellville the other day, and many of the businesses there were closed down. It made me very sad. It was a cute little center, but it looked deserted and deprived.

The sense of depravity follows me everywhere these days. Even when I experience the fun of driving or walking to a new place, I also feel a lot of sorrow. The drive there is most indicative of this feeling. Because I am surrounded by more land, it's like I'm surrounded by more pain. Let me explain. Land is more open. It's exposed and vulnerable. It's where plants grow...or don't grow. If nothing grows, it doesn't produce. There's no harvest, no life on the land. It's just barren.

I always thought of Manassas as a sort of waste land (T.S. Eliot style). Only its barreness is disguised. It's covered by ugly buildings and fake plastic trees. A new Wal-Mart, a new Starbucks ( heh). The constuction on Liberia is proof. So many buildings going up on land which had been bought and sold by firms and laid barren there for years. Barren but owned by the corporate world.

It's winter time, which means everything is naturally dead. The trees have no leaves and are an ugly shade of brown. Individually, their shapes beautiful. But bunched together, it looks like a bunch of mangled up twigs. The grass is a greyish-yellow at best. It runs for miles. I like country depravity. It shows its weakness, its vulnerability. The suburbs only wear a mask. And not the most appealing one, in my eyes.

I think people have different relationships with different places. And their spirits flourish or die depending on where they are. It's different for everyone.

I do like cities. I could explore a city all day and then the next day. But I have a connection to farmland. Never have I lived on farmland, I honestly don't even know if I can see myself living there. Most people thought I was pretty strange when I wrote a whole senior thesis on the connections between faith and farming. I do feel more at one with God when I am closer to the source of food.

Being in this place reminds me of God's constant provision, his faithfulness (even if it's dead, the seasons will change and it will come to life again) and his beauty.