Difficult Days

Today has been especially difficult. Difficult as in I’m sad and I miss her. I got home, turned on the television and -I kid you not- there was Inkheart, The Jane Austen Book Club. Now 2001: A Space Odessey, and Astrix at The Olympic Games.

Talk about things that remind me of her.

I want want to wait well.

Half An Hour

Half an hour and I ought to go to bed
Half an hour and I’ll fight not to replay this tune in my head-
It’s a dirge, but a hopeful one it will be
It’s mindful of the past and the future I hope to see.
Half an hour and I’ll be in bed.
Half an hour and I’ll be talking to beautiful you in my head.

Picture Mindful.

Honestly.

I’m somebody who goes with the flow. This is whom I’ve always been. Some people have told me that it’s an impressive skill especially when they consider how effective I am at working under pressure and doing things last-minute- but there are just some things in life you don’t just rush into. Some things take time and careful consideration. You do this with things you especially care about, things especially close to your heart. Sure, the tendency to be ‘I’m-going-with-the-flow’ is still there, but thankfully there’s a little more tact and thought behind things you hope for. And this comes effortlessly.

Having said some about ‘going with the flow’, it’s becoming more and more clear to me that growing up involves considering others in my decisions more than just myself. It means actually being responsible as opposed to just doing the minimal. It sounds like such an obvious thing I know, but sometimes we miss out on the obvious things. Some people, like me, take a while to learn these things. They get underlined only in specific situations where you have to take a step back and go, “Oh crap. So that’s how it is!” After that realization you either continue on as you were, “I’ll get to it later” (Never.), or you consider what are things that need to be done in order to move appropriately, according to the decision already made.

Now throw into the mix how just because you’ve made a decision, that doesn’t necessitate that things will go as smoothly or end up according to plan. How lame is that. Such is life.

But seriously. If I mope, I ought to mope with hope.

As a professing Christian, I know that all these things will eventually pale in comparison to being with Christ for all eternity when I die. I’m not being escapist here, it might seem like it, but I believe I’m being realistic. When I die, I can’t take anything with me from here- the house I hope to have, my amassed fortune of home appliances (These are things I have a weird penchant for), this woman I’m learning to love- all these, I take nothing with me.
This is how funny life is for me as a Christian; it is real enough that the most tangible things I see are the bills I have to pay, the hopes and doubts that I have, yet at the same time, all these things are but a blip in the context of the big picture of eternity.

Moving between big picture and small picture well is something I’d like to get better at because most of the time I’m stuck to the small screen. One day at a time, I guess.

Honestly.

Where Is Home?

Today was the 2nd time that I was rejected a visitor’s visa for a country I won’t name. 

At first, when the rejection came, I didn’t know how to respond. As I reflect on what went through my mind at that exact moment- I come up blank.

But I have to come face to face with who I am. I’m a third-culture person. I’m from another country but I’ve grown up in another that is not my own. There will never be a chance that I can be a citizen of this country and the only way for me to continue staying here is to have a job, which will grant me employee status.

With this rejection, I have to come face-to-face with who I am; Look real close at who I am economically and socially. Maybe I’m just embellishing, whining about a visa rejection, some straight-up first world problem? Ignoring the plight of countless others who have no choice but to leave their home because of war or some other horrible injustice that has befallen them. Now I feel silly. Now my visa complaints seem infinitesimal.

If there’s anything I’ve learned from this visa rejection the 2nd time around, it’s the same as the last rejection: I’m thankful that my citizenship in Heaven is not based on where I’m from, or what I’ve done for myself economically or socially in life. No. It is based on Christ and His finished work on the Cross for me. I don’t see the fullness of it now but when I groan in disappointment of the now, a sure hopefulness within me springs forth when I think of the life after.

Would’ve been great if I got that visa though.

Staking Lives

Allow me to verbally vomit online.

This is a weird-yet-exciting time in life for me. I see so much truth in what wiser, older people have nuanced to me in days past, “The person you become in university is the who you’ll likely be for the rest of your life.”It’s been a year-and-a-half since I’ve graduated from university. Looking back, I can’t help but acknowledge that this rings true.

I don’t mind change. I don’t mind the fact that Jesus has changed my life.That’s a gross understatement. I’ll never get over the fact that He has saved me. He has completely changed the trajectory of my life in ways I could have never imagined.

How I wish that manifested itself in the way I lived my life in response to that goodness.

Yet in the midst of thankfulness, there is a sea of uncertainty within me that surfaces every now and then. It billows and froths, and I’m wondering and wondering if I’m doing the right thing. Perhaps the issue isn’t whether I’m doing the right thing: the issue is whether I trust God. It is a hard thing to trust God- more especially, One I’ve yet to see. It is hard to trust that He is sufficient in loneliness, in insufficiency, in feelings of sadness not tied to anything in particular, really. The latter moment mentioned are the type I hate with a vengeance. There’s nothing like feeling sorrowful or melancholy for no particular reason. It has you taking lightning-quick self-inventories, gasping hopelessly, and you’re eager to pin sadness to anything that is reasonable enough to be a coherent reason- just for the sake of being able to explain that ‘meh’.

But I like the fact that I can acknowledge difficult, confusing circumstances in my life to God. David shows us in Psalm 51 as he groaned  for redemption, writhing in agony over the consequence of his choices.

I am called to hope and trust in God as He has revealed Himself in His Word. My heart takes refuge in the fact that this God that saves is faithful. I saw it this morning reading through some in the book of Acts. He was the same God with Paul as he got flogged or stoned for sharing the Gospel, He was the same God who moved through what Peter spoke as 3000 people came to believe in one day.

He is the same God who has saved me. One day at a time.