Too

Too

Too—such a great word. It encompasses so much, and convicts so much. It acknowledges so much and shares so much blame. It shares responsibility. It gives credit. It is also one of the hardest words to add at the end of a sentence. You know what I mean—“My project was great, and his was great…too.” Or “He hurt me and I hurt him…too.”

So last night I had coffee (nectar of the gods, to some people) with my friend Alissa. She has been going through a difficult time in her personal life and we were talking about developments there and the lack there of in my life. Alissa has been a dear friend of mine for years. I met her when I was first out of college and going to Hunter Street Baptist Church. At first we were casual acquaintances, but over the course of serving in ministry together at the church, she became one of my closest friends. I missed her dearly when I took a job at SFS and moved to Korea. But, every time I was home, she was the one friend I could count on to remember me and make it a point to catch up. During our chats, she very often gave (and continues to give!) me food for thought.

A resounding theme in our conversation last night was the idea of compassion. I have always thought of my self as a compassionate person. But I realized after a few minutes that at the time in my life when I needed to show compassion the most, I did not. I chose selfishness—I chose to nurture my own hurt over comforting someone else’s pain. It was a complete shock to my system. But more on that later.

Compassion. That is such a hard concept--we all think we have it down pretty well, but in reality, do we? What exactly is compassion!? According the secular world, compassion is taking into account another person’s pain and trying to alleviate it. Because I was created a spiritual being, I think there must be more to it. In Matthew 9, Jesus felt compassion for the lost that he saw around him because they were “without a shepherd (vs. 36).” Then Jesus commanded his disciples to act on that—he said “The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few. 38 Therefore beseech the Lord of the harvest to send out workers into His harvest." They were commanded to first beseech God on behalf of the lost, but also, I can’t help but wonder if an unspoken command was given there too—to go out and begin to reap the harvest. Compassion is not without command. Jesus didn’t have a personal relationship with these people, yet he loved them enough to feel true compassion for the lost. I think in the spiritual realm, compassion is not just taking into account someone else’s pain, but taking someone else’s pain. It is not about considering it and being moved by it. It is FEELING the pain and moving to action, regardless of our own hurts, fears, or concerns.

A few years ago I was in a relationship that I now know to have been bad for not just me, but him, too. Of course, at the time, I could NOT see it, even though most of the people around me were yelling “RUN!” The ending of that relationship was terrible. I was hurt more deeply than I have ever been hurt before. I never (for one little moment) thought that Tim was hurting, too. I remember, now, sitting in my living room, in tears. Tim was telling me over and over again that the person he showed the night before was not the person he really is. He, too, was broken in some way. Maybe not as deeply as I was, and maybe not for the same reasons. But he was broken, too. I did not have the monopoly on pain. He needed me to put aside my selfish hurts and say to him “It’s OK..” and I couldn’t do it. It was easier, in the short run, to have a difficult, nasty ending to our friendship than to deal with it and let it take its natural course.

Tim said that he was sorry. I wish that I’d had the courage to say that I was sorry, too.

Sticks and Stones...

So, any of you who read my blog often hear me talk about my good friend Dan. He uses the written word so effectively and our conversation (or just reading his blog!) inspires me. I was recently reading his last blog entry and it was about how much power words have. His blog dealt specifically with a specific word used to describe gays. (You all know what word I am talking about...) But the overall theme of his blog has stuck with me. It has made me look at words I use everyday... and how those words affect the world around me--and the world within me. The words I use to describe myself are more hurtful and damaging than those used by strangers. I know which buttons to push and which ones to ignore. And when it comes to myself, I can't simply apologise and say that I don't mean it--because I know better. I meant every word. And my world within cracks a bit more each time. And the world outside me also is affected by my world with in. If I refuse to believe my own apology, how can I believe the apology of the world?We all have heard (and probably used) that phrase Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me. Whatever. I have been teaching kindergarten for the last month or so. I love it. It is so wonderful. The best part of teaching kindergarten is the look of pure joy of discovery. Kids are learning so quickly how the world works. Who to emulate, who to avoid, who to tease and who to steer clear of. They are also learning the power of words.When conflict arises, a favorite phrase of mine is "Use your words to solve this problem." (Sound familiar anyone?!) But, what about situations where no words are sufficient? What about problems that are so big that words cannot even begin to express? What about those issues that are so big that you can't wrap your mind around it, much less articulate it intelligently. Kids look at the world so purely. There are no problems that are too big to solve with gentle words, a hug, and a pat on the back. When did we outgrow this simple mindset? Kids rarely put themselves down (unless there are underlying issues--but that is another blog altogether!). They choose to believe the best about their world within and the world outside. Why can't we? Why can't we believe the best about our own world and the world we live in? Why do we have to divide ourselves into 2 groups? Why can't we be the loved and the loving instead of the self-righteous and the impure? Where are the words to heal the hurts that have been inflicted? Any more, the power of words needs to be followed by the power of action. A gentle word, a hug and a pat on the back... Can you think of a better solution?

I Choose...

Each Day. . .
It's quiet. It's early. My coffee is hot. The sky is still black. The world is still asleep. The day is coming. In a few moments the day will arrive. It will roar down the track with the rising of the sun. The stillness of the dawn will be exchanged for the noise of the day. The calm of solitude will be replaced by the pounding pace of the human race. The refuge of the early morning will be invaded by decisions to be made and deadlines to be met. For the next 12 hours I will be exposed to the day's demands. It is now that I must make a choice.
Because of Calvary, I'm free to choose. And so I choose.
I CHOOSE LOVE. . .
No occasion justifies hatred; no injustice warrants bitterness.
I choose love. Today I will love God and what God loves.
I CHOOSE JOY. . .
I will invite my God to be the God of circumstance.
I will refuse the temptation to be cynical. . . the tool of a last thinker.
I will refuse to see people as anything less than human beings, created by God.
I will refuse to see any problem as anything less than an opportunity to see God.
I CHOOSE PEACE
I will live forgiven. I will forgive so that I may live.
I CHOOSE PATIENCE
I will overlook the inconveniences of the world.
Instead of cursing the one who takes my place, I'll invite him to do so.
Rather than complain that the wait is too long, I will thank God for a moment to pray.
Instead of clinching my fist at new assignments, I will face them with joy and courage.
I CHOOSE KINDNESS
I will be kind to the poor, for they are alone. Kind to the rich, for they are afraid.
And kind to the unkind, for such is how God has treated me.
I CHOOSE GOODNESS
I will go without a dollar before I take a dishonest one.
I will be overlooked before I will boast. I will confess before I will accuse.
I choose goodness.
I CHOOSE FAITHFULNESS
Today I will keep my promises. My debtors will not regret their trust.
My associates will not question my word. My wife will not question my love.
And my children will never fear that their father will not come home.
I CHOOSE GENTLENESS
Nothing is won by force. I choose to be gentle.
If I raise my voice, may it be only in praise. If I clench my fist, may it be only in prayer.
If I make a demand, may it be only of myself.
I CHOOSE SELF-CONTROL
I am a spiritual being. . . after this body is dead, my spirit will soar.
I refuse to let what will rot, rule eternal. I choose self-control.
I will by drunk only by joy. I will be impassioned only by my faith.
I will be influenced only by God. I will be taught only by Christ.
I choose self-control.
Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.
To these, I commit my day. If I succeed, I will give thanks. If I fail, I will seek His grace.
And then, when this day is done, I will place my head on my pillow and rest.

*Author--Unknown. I found this and loved it.

Home is where the heart is. . .

I went back to Korea last week. It was amazing. It was horrible. Being in Korea should have been like being "home." But, not to sound trite, but... you can never go back home. At least not to the home you remembered. Having lived in Korea for the better part of 22 years, you would think that it was "home." But Korea is not a place that readily accepts non-natives as their own. For as long as I lived there, and as much as I considered Korea my home land, it never considered me a native daughter, or even as an adoptive daughter. I was always a stranger in a strange land. I never felt the rejection as a personal rejection--it wasn't me that was being rejected--but everyone who is not Korean. I knew that, but it didn't change my feelings about the land I grew up in. Going back to Korea last week was a life changing experience. I didn't see enough of the people I wanted to see, and too much of the people I didn't want to see. But, as it turned out, as much as I loved being back in Korea, I was desperate to get back. Not only because of Wally the Wonder Dog, but also because my life has moved forward here--something I had not realized. I knew life in Korea had moved on--it always does. But no matter how much I thought I had not started moving on with my new life, I have. And it is a good thing. Going home is never easy, but once you get there, you realize that you have just left home. And it feels good.

So This is Christmas...

Every year, when Christmas comes around, I get caught up in the whole "I love Christmas, but hate the whole commercialism aspect." But this year, I came to the stark realization that this is Christmas. The Christmas's I remember from my youth are gone. The days of gifts being a $5 coffee cup for my parents are gone. Not because I can't find a $5 coffee cup to buy for them, but really, I think I allow myself to be caught up in what other people will think about what I am getting them. When did the sentiment "It's not the gift, but the thought that counts" cease to be a part of what we believe about Christmas? When the wise men came to worship Jesus after His birth, they brought with them the most valuable items of the day. But, it wasn't the value of gifts that is an important aspect of the story. It was that they brought was they had and that they gave it all to Jesus. It is the whole idea that we are to gift God with what is most valuable to us--our lives, our decisions, and ourselves. It is, in this case, both the gift and the thought that counts. Next year, I hope to be less concerned about what I am giving, and more concerned with the thought behind it--and the reason for the gift. I will use the time to remind myself of the commitment to God I have made, and the value of the gifts to Him I am giving.