Poignant Collision

Sitting in church this weekend, I see the picture that is somewhere in this entry. (It is of poor quality and I have no idea where its final resting place within this entry will be. Sorry) For me this picture represents two different lives, the life I live in Arkansas and the life I live in Macau.

It was a startling thing indeed to hear the voice of my pastor say the same thing that I heard back home most Sundays in church, "brothers and sisters in Christ". This familiar voice from home was then followed by the now familiar voice of Michael Wu as he translated the words for everyone.

What exactly do I feel about this? or to use a cliche and very poor counseling question... how does this make me feel? I do not know. Please allow me to think aloud for a while. During church, the words that were spoken brought moved me to tears, but they were not tears of sadness or tears of joy. They were tears of deep emotions. I guess that seeing my pastor and Michael together sharing God's word with so many others, brought such a great awareness of how much and how irrevocably my life has changed. This is a great thing, so maybe they were tears of joy, but I just did not recognize it at the time.

I think unconciously, some part of me worried at how these two dramatically different lives that I am a part of, or that are a part of me, could be combined. Where did I fit in, where did I belong? Where will I fit in, where will I belong? I have the answer now and it is the same answer that I eventually come to whenever I have thoughts or worries. The answer is in Christ.

I started writing this last week and stopped short of finishing it and posting it. I am not sure of where I was going or if I had a point other than the one that I came to, but I thought that I would post it anyway. It is sort of like an unedited version. I actually have several drafts saved on here so maybe I will start posting them. We shall see.

I wanna cry

After saying "good morning" "hello" and "good-bye" to my door man all within the same sentence, I made my way into the elevator and up to my apartment. The doors slowly slide open to reveal (here is the part where I want to cry) my bathtub sitting in the hall. Yep, the much talked about, highly anticpated bathtub is gone, out the door, over-with, waving good-bye. I just wanted the thing repaired, but like many other experiences I have had here, my logical solution to a problem is not other people's logical solution to a problem. Pesky little drainage issue with the bathtub, No Problem... Rip it out!! Where is Roto-rooter when you need them? Did I mention that they are replacing said bathtub with a shower? Oh well, at least I will be clean.

The next thing that makes me want to cry is the not-so-thin layer of dust that covers every surface of my apartment. Just last week, I breathed a sigh of contentment as I finished scrubbing my apartment and getting everything put exactly where I wanted it. Now, everything is shoved into my bedroom, and the scrubbing was for naught. I think if I wait until my bathtub is "fixed", I can just add water and have a grand ole time playing in the mud. I am trying very hard to find humor in this situation, but sitting at work on my day off, having people destroy my apartment and simultaneously smoke it up while ripping out my bathtub just isn't conducive to humor.

Ok, optimism, optimism where have you gone? The contents of my fridge do not have dust on them. My mom is coming soon, she likes to clean;)

See that? That is where my bathtub used to be.

It's new location. (frown)

I often experience a struggle within myself regarding when I should speak and when I should just be. I know that at all times I should BE Christ's love to other people and that sometimes I should speak this love to them as well. However, I also know that quite honestly I like to hear myself talk and arrogantly pride myself on how smart I am and Oh My, what a good Christian I am, so that not always are the "words of love" from the Holy Spirit. God revealed this fault to me in a way that is still tearing at me.

Let me provide the context. Tuesday nights the Bible study at our center is completely in English and on Friday nights, it is offered in Chinese so that those attending are able to hear God's word in their own language and grow in faith. One lady that has been attending our center for three years now, stopped going to the Friday night Bible study when it began to be offered in Chinese (although she religiously makes it for the Tuesday night Bible study). She came this past Friday night.

Wanting to know what effect hearing God's word in her own language had on her, I struck up a conversation with her. We talked about doubts and having questions and many other things that have been the topic of our conversations before. Nearing the end of our conversation, she shared with me that she did not believe yet, to which I just nodded. Her next question was, "Do you mind?" I was confused. Of course I minded that she is not a Christian. If I did not care whether she was a Christian, then I would not be standing here talking to her. She knows these things. These were my thoughts to myself. And then I realized her meaning. It was not "Do I mind that she is not a Christian", it was "Do I Care"? Do I still care about HER even though she does not believe? That is what she meant. I am still reeling from this. How do I answer that? Words certainly are worthless at this point. I can say yes, but obviously if she feels the need to ask that question, then my actions have belied any words that I have said to this point. Even as I am typing this, I can feel something in me that seeks to make this thing that I have done appear less than it is.

However, I am not going tell this story and then try to make it look not quite so bad by saying that "we Christians do this" and "we as Christians do that", I am offering up my own personal sin and consequent failings as a servant of Christ. I have failed. I have turned the grace that God has given us into works. I have emptied the my work of the power of the Holy Spirit by trying to do it on my own.

In keeping with the season of lent, I pray to God that this part of myself may be what I give up. And this too, I cannot do alone.