Seeing the Art in Me

Tonight I told a co-worker that I am leaving the company, and she asked what I would be doing after. When I explained that I wanted to go to seminary, she said, "Well, you know, you have such an aura of purity about you," indicating that it made sense to her I would want to go to seminary. It was such a nice thing for her to say, and unexpected.

As I walked home tonight, thinking about what she said, I was pretty choked up and emotional. "Pure" is not the first word I would use to describe myself. To know that someone sees that quality in me is touching. I don't often see it or feel it myself.

Maybe that's because I am too quick to remind myself of my past; of purity forfeited on boys, parties, meanness, lies, gossip. Maybe it's because I am too slow to believe the promise that purity can be restored.

Maybe it's because I'm all too aware of how much I wanted to punch a certain co-worker in the nose tonight; I'm aware of all the areas of my life I'm not practicing patience, those times when I let jealousy win, the ways I'm still so selfish. Maybe because I spend too much time in self-absorbtion instead of observing how Jesus is slowly, steadily, unfailingly conforming me to His image.

To have my purity affirmed by others, as it was tonight, is to have God's existence affirmed for me. Who else but God could take me, mold me, and change me into something pure?

I'm also excited to know that in said purity my co-worker is seeing not me, but God himself.

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On a lighter note, a friend talked me out of tears by helping me to imagine all the possible reasons I could give to other co-workers when explaining my impending departure. We decided it would be most funny if I were to give a different explanation to each new person I tell, and let them puzzle over compared notes later.

Co-worker: "So you're quitting...where are you going?"
Me: "I'm going to sell previously-owned Saturns in Seacaucas."

OR:
"I'm taking up the harp, and hope to start busking in the subway soon."
"Vermont."
"Detox."
"I've always wanted to learn how to make cottage cheese. There's a program in Brooklyn, loosely associated with the Pratt Institute..."
"I'm going to take up crafting, and then peddle my wares in Union Square."
"Running for governor. Or senator. Something like that."
"Hoping to get into the coat-check line of business."

Economics: A Love/Hate Episode

Tonight the CEO of my company spent some time in my office reviewing loan applications. Afterwards he took me and some co-workers out for drinks, and expounded a bit on his philosophy on who should, and who should not, get approved for a loan.

The professional student in Arizona – highly questionable. When would she finally graduate, get a job, and start paying us back? The guy going to Harvard Divinity, whose co-signer was his live-in girlfriend – a bit unusual. He’s going to graduate $60,000 in debt and get some job paying only $25,000 – do we really want to give him a loan?

The CEO looked at me after this comment, acknowledging that I apparently want to follow a similar path. Though respectful of my plan, he seemed genuinely concerned about my economic circumstances, and wanted to urge me, the Harvard Div guy, and any others like us to think practically about our situation. What would we really do with a divinity degree? Were there any programs out there (like some MBA programs he knew of) that would let me work during the week and just take classes on the weekends? Do I want to dig myself into debt, with bleak prospects of such limited earnings potential?

Part of me is in complete agreement with him. It is this line of rational, practical thinking that has kept me from seminary for 7 years --ever since an economics professor drilled into me that higher education is only worthwhile in proportion to the increased salary the degree will earn. If I don’t expect to get a decent rate of return on my investment (aka higher salary as a result of the advanced degree), then it doesn’t make economic sense to put any money (aka tuition) towards the investment.

So on one hand, I – I the oldest child/practical/economics major/non-impulsive personality type me – agree with the CEO. It is not a smart business decision to go into debt to get a flimsy degree in theology. But on the other hand, I – I the child of God, who watched as all events in my life lined up to point exactly in this direction – cannot help but plunge ahead excitedly into the apparent foolishness of the situation. What may seem as foolishness in this world may turn out to be wise in the next.

I only wish tonight that I hadn’t nodded so passively in agreement with the CEO’s remarks. What I was thinking, but didn’t say aloud, was that “I trust God will provide.” I don’t know what I will do after seminary, I don’t know what my earnings potential will be like, but I trust, I trust, I trust that He will provide.

“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?” (Matthew 6:25-26)

Running With Perseverence

Tonight I visited a friend’s temple to observe how Hare Krishnas celebrate a holiday. They pretty much do it up right. There was some chanting/prayer, a lecture, meditation time, and lots of food to wrap up the evening. Though it was interesting to observe the different customs, it was a pretty long event.

Into the third hour, I found that I was getting a bit bored and it was harder to stay focused on God. My mind wandered: “Father, please help me to love all my co-workers…I need to remember to make a dentist appointment tomorrow… Did I pay my electric bill this month?”

Though I was fading, people around me were jumping and clapping and singing. It was quite impressive really, and I watched them with some envy. I’m not used to such extended worship; church services are only an hour and a half, quiet times (when existent) even shorter, and I’m lucky to find barely 5 minutes in the morning to sing a praise song before work. In Christian-life-as-race metaphor, I am out of shape to run the course!

I realized tonight that my current devotional life is a series of sporadic sprints, and I’m not conditioned for longer distances. (Those of you who ran high-school track will know how difficult it is for a former distance runner to admit affinity with sprinters!) As I stood there in the temple thinking about electric bills and struggling to worship for just a few hours, I wondered how I would fare in heaven, where we will worship for eternity.

Surely in one sense it will be easier: rather than having to discipline my mind to focus on Jesus and blot out distractions, in heaven my faith will become sight and I will see Jesus in front of me. Distractions will be forgotten and worship should be a natural reaction.

However, I don’t want to show up to heaven and just “wing it” (no angel joke intended). I want to cultivate worship endurance in this life, so it truly will be instinctual in heaven. I pray that God will guide me towards continual worship, as He’s deserving of nothing less.

“Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us be thankful, and so worship God acceptably with reverence and awe, for our “God is a consuming fire.”” (Hebrews 12:28-29)

PS- To my Boston sistahs (past and present) - you were all on my mind tonight, so I offered up some good intecessory prayers for you during meditation time. I love you and miss you, and I hear NYC is the place to be for Labor Day weekend (hint, hint).

Bigger Than This

Last night I left work with a co-worker and we started walking south. We walked from 52nd street down to 9th street. In those 2 miles we discussed Jesus, divinity, discipleship, etc. My co-worker observes different religious practices than I do, yet there is a lot of common ground in our experiences with God.

Though there are many areas where I cannot agree with him, we seemed to be on the same page in emphasizing that what matters most is your relationship and interaction with God - the symbols, the rules, the "doctrine" should all be secondary to your personal relationship to the Divine. It's so good to be reminded of this, as I know how prone to legalism I can be. (I often fall into legalism even on this matter of relationship - "It's not a religion, it's a relationship" becomes a trite doctrine, its truth not always manifested in my daily life.)

In our conversation, I got the sense that my co-worker felt my view of the Divine was somehow limited, "trapped" as it were in the constructs of Christian thought. He offered up the view that Christianity, Buddhism, [Insert_name_of_World_Religion_here] are all equally valid - just frames of reference to allow different types of people to all experience the Divine in a way best suited to them. He urged me to consider how big God is, how little we know of God right now - we are only scratching the surface of His vastness.

He is right about that. How little I know of God - how little I know *Him*! How often do I imagine Him in my limited view, rather than considering He is more marvelous than I could ever imagine?

I hope this thought stays with me - that I am constantly reminded that God is bigger than I know. I don't want to be content to stand still with what I know of God - I want to search Him out all the days of my life, to keeping scratching the surface, to let Him expand my view of Him.

"As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts." (Isaiah 55:9)

May my thoughts always be on Jesus; may I stop trying to drag Him down to my level, but rather allow Him to pull me up to glimpse His vast, vast glory and love.

Cure for Hot Cats

2 months since my last post! Wow, better catch up my reading public on my whereabouts and goings-on and such. To sum up: I've been at work. Ick - lame! Let's not dwell on it though. "This too shall pass." Onwards... to some things I feel like sharing:

1) Every so often I have a day where all I feel like listening to is The Cure. Can anyone relate? This doesn't happen too often; just often enough to justify owning their greatest hits cd. Today is a Cure day. Not sure exactly what brings it on, but I just go with it.

2) Summer in the city doesn't exactly agree with me. Those who know me a little know I hate heat a lot. A few weeks ago, heat settled onto NYC in a sticky haze, and I hated life a bit. I thought I could soldier on with just 2 little fans in my apartment, and resisted purchasing an AC for as long as possible. Pure folly! I slept terribly (if at all) for 4 nights, had to adopt a strict No-Pants rule at all times I was in the apartment, and spent considerable amounts of time standing in front of the open freezer door. Now all that is behind me, and I finally have an AC of my very own. Sweet, sweet, sweat-less existence.

I was up in Harlem last week, in the middle of the heat wave, helping a friend move. On every block of the neighborhood we were in, someone had opened up the fire hydrants and water was spraying everywhere and flooding down the streets towards the Hudson. Kids were splashing and running happily in the spray, while adults looked on (wishing, I think, they could do the same if only they weren't so grown up). It was quite a sight.

3) Sunday I came home to find a cat staring at me. This almost never happens. I am not a big cat fan, so I don't own one. But on Sunday, a young cat found it's way onto my window sill, and was watching me through the (closed) window when I walked in the door. This window is an odd one - it's positioned in a kind of crotch (if you will) where my building touches the building next door at a weird angle. It's a ledge 3 stories above the ground, and there are no other window sills nearby - just the matching sills one story above me and one story below. I have no idea how the cat came by his perch on my sill.

When I found him there, he had the unmistakable look of panic on his cat face. My first instinct was "Ohmygosh! Save the scared cat!" so I quickly moved to open the window, which only served to increase the cat's anxiety. He started crying via anguished "meows" and edged away from my well-meaning hands. I tried to reassure him that I was friendly and just trying to help him, for crying out loud, but he didn't appear to speak English. In his misguided mistrust, he chose to make a leap for some wires running down a nearby wall. He almost made it, but couldn't get a good grasp on the wires. I watched in horror as he jumped, slipped, and fell away from the building.

I KILLED A CAT! I thought. I felt terrible and guilty and angry at the cat for his foolish decision not to trust me. I finally brought myself to look down at the ground, to see if I could see his bruised and broken body. But he was alive! And slinking off to hide under some crates on the ground.

I had forgotton this was a cat I was dealing with - they're a tricky wiley sort with their 9 lives and ability to land on their feet after a 3-story drop to a concrete floor. Sheesh. My guilt assuaged, I tried to put the cat out of my mind and move on with my day. Still...I thought maybe I should get a cat after all. It was a nice feeling -those few moments when I tried to help the cat and considered him my responsibility. But then he went and faked his own death. You know, I really don't need that kind of stress in my life.