It's September first.
I've always loved the glorious month of September for its latent warmth and halcyon days before fall sets in. It reminds me of new clothes, wistful thoughts of summertime, and all the nervous anticipation a new school year brings. For me it is the official start of the year. Everything new begins in September--school, Bible studies, fellowship groups, the September Issue of Vogue ushering in fall fashion, and a renewed spirit to step up to the proverbial plate and do well.
I feel a wind of change in the air, at least in my own thoughts. Although the past 8 months have been fraught with changes, I feel sure that the next several changes will be good ones. For one thing, I've seen God provide so many times over the past several months when I felt like all hope was lost that I know He'll do it again. He is faithful. I don't know whether I'll begin work overseas right away or not. There may be beautiful opportunities right where I am in Austin.
Last week I was able to attend a meeting of the Austin Fair Trade Town. These are volunteers from the community who are involved in fair trade either through business or advocacy. They are attempting right now to get a resolution passed through the city legislature declaring Austin to be a "Fair Trade Town". Basically, this means the City of Austin will declare that it supports fair trade business through the purchase of fair trade goods, education, and advocacy. Once the town is officially "fair trade," the Austin Fair Trade Town group can really begin gathering steam by putting on wacky Austin events like handing out fair trade chocolate on the streets (this was suggested at the last meeting, but we all started laughing when we thought of the summer heat); Other ideas include conducting presentations on fair trade in the school system, or hosting a fair trade bazaar.
For those of you unfamiliar with the concept of fair trade business, the simple idea of it is this: Ordinarily, without fair trade much of the manufacturing and production of goods, clothing, and food is done through large corporations who do not pay their workers an ethical, living wage (think sweat-shop labor). Fair trade business is conducted by sourcing local workers and paying them a wage that allows them to live out of poverty. Businesses that claim fair trade status aim to be wholly transparent in their business practices from concept to production to distribution. When enough workers in a town or village are employed in a fair trade capacity it raises the health, economics and standards of the entire community. Fair trade business extends beyond economics as it often employs women in impoverished communities who would otherwise have to provide for themselves and their family through any means they could find, including prostitution. Fair trade is often linked in food and textile production to organic farming, which eliminates traditional slash-and-burn farming methods and practices sustainable agriculture that cultivates the land properly for generations to come. With fertile land, decent wages, and the opportunity to rise above their current situation, an entire community becomes healthy. When more communities become healthy, eventually an entire country can become healthy and finally, an entire continent.
My global passion is to bring beauty to the lives of women and in so doing, to show them the beauty of God. How this translates into my business passion is to create a fair trade fashion line incorporating ethnic textile motifs from different countries around the world into western design. I would create elegant dresses with simple lines that rely heavily on the textiles to tell a story about the garment itself and its orgigins. I want to employ the women of each country's communities to help create the textiles and the garments. I want them to know that their cultural influence matters and that they matter to God. I want those that wear their garments to understand that in valuing something beautiful they are valuing beauty with purpose--a beauty that heals women and communities.
I will never forget something I saw when one of the missionaries at my church in Greenville, Illinois came back from India. He showed a video depicting he and several others passing out the most stunningly beautiful brightly-colored saris to women in a leper village. At the bottom of the caste system, these women were outcasts in their society. The missionaries led worship and around them sat these women with beaming faces of joy in their clean, bright garments. In effect, I want to "clothe" such women with dignity, beauty, health and the joy of knowing God loves them.
It is amazing how one small thing such as a video clip I witnessed in the right place at the right time could begin to form my thinking around something entirely other than what I originally intended for my life's work. In the bright days ahead, may we be on the watch for such sparks of divine inspiration that come our way and may we allow them to craft us wholly new.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
How to Walk Tall in Duck Shoes
Oh, fashion!
It's mastery is not for the faint of heart. At its best it requires a sense of style, a good eye for coordination, color and beauty, and a willingness to try new things and improvise. At its worst it is a dictatorial killjoy spit out in monthly mags to the masses, upholding the great tradition of commercialism.
But fashion is, on the whole, neutral. It's what we do with it and what it says about us that matters. There are many who ordinarily attempt to follow the fashions and succeed, but who often have one quirk, one idiosyncracy in their style that stands out in the crowd. It is these very things that bear mentioning and on examination reveal much about the wearer themselves.
During World War II in Great Britain everything was rationed, from pats of butter to clothing and shoes. Now, shoes, for example, were not what they are today. For women they consisted of either massively high stacked heels with little padding and zero comfort or flats with wooden or rubber lasts, zero padding and thin leather sides. With ration coupons and government regulations limiting the number of shoe pairs per family to around 3 per year, women could narry afford to be particular. They had to make due with the pair they had till they wore out and got holes in the sole, or often had to take whatever shoe size was closest to theirs in the store because there were hardly any to be had. As a result, the British woman had continually painful feet.
However, nothing completely quelled the spirit of the British in WWII, not even bad shoes. The women always wore a full face of makeup and cheery red lipstick that came to be known as their "red badge of courage". Their lipstick represented their bravery, their fighting spirit. Their rouged pout highlighted the British adage, "Keep a stiff upper lip". The ostentatious spunk and beauty of a prized pair of red lips defied their poor shoes and their Nazi foes together. As a fashion statement, it can be argued that the juxtaposition of bad shoes with red lips won the war!
On the subject of shoes and fashion, I am further reminded of the character "Kramer" in the late 90's show "Seinfeld". An independent free spirit, Kramer lives by his own set of rules, often resulting in hilarious outcomes. In one episode he gets the bright idea to save time by installing a garbage disposal in his shower. He proceeds to peel and cut his vegetables while bathing and sends the scraps down the chute! The episode I am thinking of though, is when Kramer wore z-coils.
For those of you unfamiliar with the show, Kramer already stands out as a tall, ungainly man in 1960's-esque clothing with a thick hatch of curly fuzz that springs up off the top of his head into the ether. He decides, after seeing an infomercial, to try a special kind of athletic shoe called z-coils. You might have heard of them. They resemble a male nurse's black shoe on top and on the sole they are supported by thick platform rubber in the front and a huge, sproingy rubber coil on the heel that puts more than a little bounce in your step! In the afternoon Kramer has to get some dental work done, leaving his mouth numb and prompting him to drool a little. Afterwards, still in his z-coils, he sproings slack-jawed and drooling down the streets of New York City to hail a cab. A businessman reaches a cab the same moment Kramer does, and after a bit of akwardness, Kramer slurs out, "Naaah, YOU takesh ith," and sproings lurchily down the sidewalk. The businessman's stoic face, after taking a hard look at Kramer's gait, softens into mellow lines, and he calls Kramer back to share the cab with him. He has assumed Kramer is a half-wit and is determined to be kind to him, if only for the sake of his "disability"! The businessman asks him only simple questions which Kramer slurs out replies to, and they part ways amiably.
The moral of this sitcom story? Carry off whatever fashion addition you try with panache--Never be afraid to try something new (or feel self-conscious after dental work)--It just might get you a cab ride!
So that brings me to myself. I have always considered myself mostly fashion-conscious, though I tend to gravitate to the classics instead of trendier things. As for shoes, I love to look at them. When I was a girl I had a collection of little shoe figurines from historical times to the present lining a shelf (I think I still have those somewhere.) I've worked in a bridal salon and at Nordstrom, which boasts a shoe haven worthy of any woman's eye.
The problem is, I can't wear the grand, stiletto styles, the platform espadrilles, or the narrow wedges worthy of Carrie Bradshaw. They kill my back and knees and the two bunions I genetically inherited from my wonderful father. Not to mention, I have the feet of a duck. Yup. They are flat, wide at the front, and taper to near-points at the ankles. The only thing differentiating them from their feathered friends' in the animal kingdom is the absence of webbing. Every shoe salesman's nightmare.
So, what's a fashion-loving girl to do? I improvise. When I worked for fashion-conscious Nordstrom, I looked the part from the ankles up. I wore great slacks and tops, cute dresses, and made sure I had on the requisite 3 statement pieces to make an ensemble. On my feet, however, I wore Danskos--thick black clogs with tons of support--a real hit with nurses in the hospital. My coworker told me it looked like I was wearing bricks. Still, I could last longer in those bricks than a 10-hour day. While the girls in heels complained after a few hours, I was still racing around the floor gathering jewelry and Spanx for my customers with ease.
My other favorite pair of comfort shoes for my days off are my Keene walking sandals, which I've affectionately named my "Duck shoes". I mean, they are the shape of my foot to the extreme! They begin with a bulbous, rubber-toed front spreading completely flat and wide with slats for air, then narrowing to a strap at the exposed ankle. They are bright baby blue, like "Jesus" sandals on speed. When I wear them with shorts, they protrude from my skinny ankles like Bobo the Clown's. The thing is, when I wear them I feel a real connection with the ground. Garish as they are, I feel so stable and solid in them that my gait becomes straighter, and I unconsciously look ahead more, shoulders back and torso raised. There is no longer any need for me to look at the ground because my feet know the way.
So what do my shoes say about me? Do they say I've somehow missed my fashion cues? Or rather, like the British, that I choose to rise above my feet; like Kramer, that I will try something that promises comfort any day even if it makes me look like a, well, duck. Or maybe, that I've simply learned how to walk tall.
It's mastery is not for the faint of heart. At its best it requires a sense of style, a good eye for coordination, color and beauty, and a willingness to try new things and improvise. At its worst it is a dictatorial killjoy spit out in monthly mags to the masses, upholding the great tradition of commercialism.
But fashion is, on the whole, neutral. It's what we do with it and what it says about us that matters. There are many who ordinarily attempt to follow the fashions and succeed, but who often have one quirk, one idiosyncracy in their style that stands out in the crowd. It is these very things that bear mentioning and on examination reveal much about the wearer themselves.
During World War II in Great Britain everything was rationed, from pats of butter to clothing and shoes. Now, shoes, for example, were not what they are today. For women they consisted of either massively high stacked heels with little padding and zero comfort or flats with wooden or rubber lasts, zero padding and thin leather sides. With ration coupons and government regulations limiting the number of shoe pairs per family to around 3 per year, women could narry afford to be particular. They had to make due with the pair they had till they wore out and got holes in the sole, or often had to take whatever shoe size was closest to theirs in the store because there were hardly any to be had. As a result, the British woman had continually painful feet.
However, nothing completely quelled the spirit of the British in WWII, not even bad shoes. The women always wore a full face of makeup and cheery red lipstick that came to be known as their "red badge of courage". Their lipstick represented their bravery, their fighting spirit. Their rouged pout highlighted the British adage, "Keep a stiff upper lip". The ostentatious spunk and beauty of a prized pair of red lips defied their poor shoes and their Nazi foes together. As a fashion statement, it can be argued that the juxtaposition of bad shoes with red lips won the war!
On the subject of shoes and fashion, I am further reminded of the character "Kramer" in the late 90's show "Seinfeld". An independent free spirit, Kramer lives by his own set of rules, often resulting in hilarious outcomes. In one episode he gets the bright idea to save time by installing a garbage disposal in his shower. He proceeds to peel and cut his vegetables while bathing and sends the scraps down the chute! The episode I am thinking of though, is when Kramer wore z-coils.
For those of you unfamiliar with the show, Kramer already stands out as a tall, ungainly man in 1960's-esque clothing with a thick hatch of curly fuzz that springs up off the top of his head into the ether. He decides, after seeing an infomercial, to try a special kind of athletic shoe called z-coils. You might have heard of them. They resemble a male nurse's black shoe on top and on the sole they are supported by thick platform rubber in the front and a huge, sproingy rubber coil on the heel that puts more than a little bounce in your step! In the afternoon Kramer has to get some dental work done, leaving his mouth numb and prompting him to drool a little. Afterwards, still in his z-coils, he sproings slack-jawed and drooling down the streets of New York City to hail a cab. A businessman reaches a cab the same moment Kramer does, and after a bit of akwardness, Kramer slurs out, "Naaah, YOU takesh ith," and sproings lurchily down the sidewalk. The businessman's stoic face, after taking a hard look at Kramer's gait, softens into mellow lines, and he calls Kramer back to share the cab with him. He has assumed Kramer is a half-wit and is determined to be kind to him, if only for the sake of his "disability"! The businessman asks him only simple questions which Kramer slurs out replies to, and they part ways amiably.
The moral of this sitcom story? Carry off whatever fashion addition you try with panache--Never be afraid to try something new (or feel self-conscious after dental work)--It just might get you a cab ride!
So that brings me to myself. I have always considered myself mostly fashion-conscious, though I tend to gravitate to the classics instead of trendier things. As for shoes, I love to look at them. When I was a girl I had a collection of little shoe figurines from historical times to the present lining a shelf (I think I still have those somewhere.) I've worked in a bridal salon and at Nordstrom, which boasts a shoe haven worthy of any woman's eye.
The problem is, I can't wear the grand, stiletto styles, the platform espadrilles, or the narrow wedges worthy of Carrie Bradshaw. They kill my back and knees and the two bunions I genetically inherited from my wonderful father. Not to mention, I have the feet of a duck. Yup. They are flat, wide at the front, and taper to near-points at the ankles. The only thing differentiating them from their feathered friends' in the animal kingdom is the absence of webbing. Every shoe salesman's nightmare.
So, what's a fashion-loving girl to do? I improvise. When I worked for fashion-conscious Nordstrom, I looked the part from the ankles up. I wore great slacks and tops, cute dresses, and made sure I had on the requisite 3 statement pieces to make an ensemble. On my feet, however, I wore Danskos--thick black clogs with tons of support--a real hit with nurses in the hospital. My coworker told me it looked like I was wearing bricks. Still, I could last longer in those bricks than a 10-hour day. While the girls in heels complained after a few hours, I was still racing around the floor gathering jewelry and Spanx for my customers with ease.
My other favorite pair of comfort shoes for my days off are my Keene walking sandals, which I've affectionately named my "Duck shoes". I mean, they are the shape of my foot to the extreme! They begin with a bulbous, rubber-toed front spreading completely flat and wide with slats for air, then narrowing to a strap at the exposed ankle. They are bright baby blue, like "Jesus" sandals on speed. When I wear them with shorts, they protrude from my skinny ankles like Bobo the Clown's. The thing is, when I wear them I feel a real connection with the ground. Garish as they are, I feel so stable and solid in them that my gait becomes straighter, and I unconsciously look ahead more, shoulders back and torso raised. There is no longer any need for me to look at the ground because my feet know the way.
So what do my shoes say about me? Do they say I've somehow missed my fashion cues? Or rather, like the British, that I choose to rise above my feet; like Kramer, that I will try something that promises comfort any day even if it makes me look like a, well, duck. Or maybe, that I've simply learned how to walk tall.
Monday, August 1, 2011
Heartache
Oohh, oooohh.
I have heartache. It hurts and I feel very heavy inside.
I went home for the weekend and my gracious, giving parents discussed with me the possibility of moving back to Harker Heights, TX to live with them. Although I have several possibilities for employment/life's work swirling around me right now, nothing has materialized yet. God graciously provided through a close, loving relative to help me financially this month while I am temping and paying off my ESL certification course, but beyond that, I don't know what's going to happen. I am not making enough money to get ahead right now or even to get overseas. It seems that for the things I want to do it costs money to make money.
My parents have discussed with me the possibility of living with them for a year to save money and pay down my student loans while working. It is practical and makes good sense but is far from what I want to do. While I am in the U.S., I love living in Austin. It is a beautiful, fun, easy-going city with plenty to do. I have a good church and am building strong friendships there and networking right now for music, which is beginning to take off again. The city is artistically-geared, and on top of that, it feels like my home base.
It's funny how your perspective changes in a couple years. When I first came to Texas for a summer between college years, I lived in Harker Heights and loved it. The surrounding area is beautiful with rolling hills, farms, and a huge, glamorous sky. I felt free just being in Texas. I still do, whether I'm there or here in Austin, it's just different. A state may be home in general, but there are certain areas that better fit who you are as a person. That is Austin for me. Yes, it's imperfect, but delightful in its imperfections. Kind of like a good relationship.
Harker Heights/Killeen hosts Ft. Hood, the largest military base in the free world. As a result, the surrounding area has a community that centers around the military. I grew up military, my grandfather was military, and I am proud of it. However, the military and its culture offer nothing compatible for me right now. It's that simple.
I feel exhausted after months of job research, pondering what I want to do, networking, having spotty employment, and the general excitement/let down that follows each opportunity that either doesn't pan out or simmers down to a series of ellipses...I just want something to happen--ANY good thing that will prove to me that all these months of transition and preparation are for more than character development.
Yes, I AM learning how to trust God. It's just difficult! I am daily trying to learn the balance between being still before God and trusting Him and doing everything in my power to "ask, seek, and knock". I just want a door to open, whether it's door A, B, or C. There better just be something good behind it. I've decided to decide on something, at least by month's end.
That's basically all. I feel a little like I imagine the disciples to have felt after Jesus died and they were in mourning but also waiting for this promised Holy Spirit He told them about. They get an amazing boost of faith when they see Him resurrect, and then it is back to the waiting and the tarrying...That's where I'm at.
I'd appreciate your prayers, friends.
Jessica
I have heartache. It hurts and I feel very heavy inside.
I went home for the weekend and my gracious, giving parents discussed with me the possibility of moving back to Harker Heights, TX to live with them. Although I have several possibilities for employment/life's work swirling around me right now, nothing has materialized yet. God graciously provided through a close, loving relative to help me financially this month while I am temping and paying off my ESL certification course, but beyond that, I don't know what's going to happen. I am not making enough money to get ahead right now or even to get overseas. It seems that for the things I want to do it costs money to make money.
My parents have discussed with me the possibility of living with them for a year to save money and pay down my student loans while working. It is practical and makes good sense but is far from what I want to do. While I am in the U.S., I love living in Austin. It is a beautiful, fun, easy-going city with plenty to do. I have a good church and am building strong friendships there and networking right now for music, which is beginning to take off again. The city is artistically-geared, and on top of that, it feels like my home base.
It's funny how your perspective changes in a couple years. When I first came to Texas for a summer between college years, I lived in Harker Heights and loved it. The surrounding area is beautiful with rolling hills, farms, and a huge, glamorous sky. I felt free just being in Texas. I still do, whether I'm there or here in Austin, it's just different. A state may be home in general, but there are certain areas that better fit who you are as a person. That is Austin for me. Yes, it's imperfect, but delightful in its imperfections. Kind of like a good relationship.
Harker Heights/Killeen hosts Ft. Hood, the largest military base in the free world. As a result, the surrounding area has a community that centers around the military. I grew up military, my grandfather was military, and I am proud of it. However, the military and its culture offer nothing compatible for me right now. It's that simple.
I feel exhausted after months of job research, pondering what I want to do, networking, having spotty employment, and the general excitement/let down that follows each opportunity that either doesn't pan out or simmers down to a series of ellipses...I just want something to happen--ANY good thing that will prove to me that all these months of transition and preparation are for more than character development.
Yes, I AM learning how to trust God. It's just difficult! I am daily trying to learn the balance between being still before God and trusting Him and doing everything in my power to "ask, seek, and knock". I just want a door to open, whether it's door A, B, or C. There better just be something good behind it. I've decided to decide on something, at least by month's end.
That's basically all. I feel a little like I imagine the disciples to have felt after Jesus died and they were in mourning but also waiting for this promised Holy Spirit He told them about. They get an amazing boost of faith when they see Him resurrect, and then it is back to the waiting and the tarrying...That's where I'm at.
I'd appreciate your prayers, friends.
Jessica
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Hey, Is This a Setup?
I'm reading this great book right now called "Pink Boots and a Machete". It's the memoir of a lady who started out as an NFL cheerleader and went on to become a National Geographic explorer and naturalist with a focus on primates. She wears pink lip gloss into the jungle and has several times barely escaped with her life (not because of the lip gloss). I'm finding it fascinating to see how she started in an immigrant family as a tomboy hoarding bugs to a school reporter to a ballerina to an actress to becoming a combination of several of these things as the host of a Nat Geo show. It's so encouraging to me to read about someone who has had a myriad of interests, pursued each of them to their fullest, and made good on all of them, becoming something she never dreamed of.
Her story reminds me of a talk I took notes on a few years ago, one of the few I frequently look back on. The guy was speaking about faith. He said that often the beginning of faith is plain curiosity leading to expectancy and finally, to wonder. He used the story of the beggar at the gate Beautiful in the book of Acts. When Peter and John and the beggar were all there, they all used what they had and had faith, believing God in the moment. Peter and John knew their authority, and the beggar knew he had nothing to lose. Bam! Peter pulled him up and he began to walk. The beggar tried to praise them, but Peter and John immediately deflected the praise and gave the glory to God. The man summed up his thoughts on faith with this question: What if your life just happens to be a setup for something far beyond your imagination?
What if...What IF? What if these scriptures are really true?: that "all things Do work together for the good of those who love Him, who are called according to His purpose" (Romans 8:28); that He CAN do "exceedingly, abundantly above all that we ask, think, or even imagine, according to His power that is at work within us" (Ephesians 3:20). What if??!!
Then I've been set up from the get go before I even knew God. Then all the seemingly random, disconnected things that I've wholeheartedly pursued in my life thus far will come together for His mighty purpose. Then I'm about to birth a baby that doesn't look anything like what I thought it would. But I know who its Father is...
Her story reminds me of a talk I took notes on a few years ago, one of the few I frequently look back on. The guy was speaking about faith. He said that often the beginning of faith is plain curiosity leading to expectancy and finally, to wonder. He used the story of the beggar at the gate Beautiful in the book of Acts. When Peter and John and the beggar were all there, they all used what they had and had faith, believing God in the moment. Peter and John knew their authority, and the beggar knew he had nothing to lose. Bam! Peter pulled him up and he began to walk. The beggar tried to praise them, but Peter and John immediately deflected the praise and gave the glory to God. The man summed up his thoughts on faith with this question: What if your life just happens to be a setup for something far beyond your imagination?
What if...What IF? What if these scriptures are really true?: that "all things Do work together for the good of those who love Him, who are called according to His purpose" (Romans 8:28); that He CAN do "exceedingly, abundantly above all that we ask, think, or even imagine, according to His power that is at work within us" (Ephesians 3:20). What if??!!
Then I've been set up from the get go before I even knew God. Then all the seemingly random, disconnected things that I've wholeheartedly pursued in my life thus far will come together for His mighty purpose. Then I'm about to birth a baby that doesn't look anything like what I thought it would. But I know who its Father is...
Friday, July 1, 2011
Why We Wait
...because toast takes time to brown. There's nothing better than the smell of hot bread.
...because if you pull the plants up early all you'll get are roots.
...because it builds anticipation.
...because we are mortal creatures living in a world of time.
...because if you let the pipes warm up you'll get hot water.
...because you can only shoot so far.
...because it takes 9 months for a baby.
...because we have day and night.
...because it gives us a moment to breathe.
...because it builds a tender, aching patience.
...because we love while waiting for our call to be returned.
...because waiting increases the opportunity for hope.
...because we have something to wait FOR!
...because of the butterfly effect.
...because God is good.
...because we must.
...because.
...because if you pull the plants up early all you'll get are roots.
...because it builds anticipation.
...because we are mortal creatures living in a world of time.
...because if you let the pipes warm up you'll get hot water.
...because you can only shoot so far.
...because it takes 9 months for a baby.
...because we have day and night.
...because it gives us a moment to breathe.
...because it builds a tender, aching patience.
...because we love while waiting for our call to be returned.
...because waiting increases the opportunity for hope.
...because we have something to wait FOR!
...because of the butterfly effect.
...because God is good.
...because we must.
...because.
Monday, June 20, 2011
"There Might Be Cake"
I confess, there's nothing I like better to eat than a piece of dense, beautifully-made, moist cake. I will go to restaurants and stores just to buy a piece of cake. Occasionally a whole small cake, but I'm trying to be good. I tend to relate very much to a sketch by Jerry Seinfeld. He said nothing could induce him to go to boring meetings, awkward get-togethers, and distant cousins' housewarmings like the phrase "there might be cake." That changed everything.
Here's the crux of it--however small, it's all about having something to look forward to. I'm always looking forward to the next thing, whether it's meeting up with a friend, worshipping, or the ultimate hope of heaven. I am goal-oriented, and it helps me do what I'm supposed to if there's a reward on the other end, even if it's cake. I suspect it might be this way for a lot of people. At school, it's earning a degree that sends you crawling toward the light at the end of the tunnel. In childbirth, it's knowing there's going to be a baby at the end of all the pain that makes the whole ordeal worthwhile. In work, it's earning a paycheck or a great promotion that keeps most of us motivated and encouraged.
It's not not just a human thing, though. On His way to the cross, Jesus, "for the joy set before Him, endured the cross, and scorning its shame... sat down at the right hand of the throne of God" (Hebrews 12:2). Apparently even Jesus needed a reward. You know what I think His motivation might have been? He'd already been in heaven being with the Father in the beginning, and certainly had that reward to look forward to. But I think His real joy was us--knowing that we'd come to know God through Him and become part of His family. Because of that, he could endure the present suffering and scorn from the ones that betrayed and crucified Him knowing how big His family would become in the ages to come.
If there is nothing else to be excited for, I often get excited thinking about heaven. I look forward to eternity in perfect bliss and everything as it should be. Back in the days of slavery here in the U.S., the hope of heaven was one of the number one themes for negro spirituals. With little on this earth to cling to, they looked to their eternal freedom and reward. Meanwhile, here on earth, some days heaven seems a long way off. That's where I've learned the past few years that God is my "exceeding great reward" (Genesis 15:1). Every day, the number one thing I have to look forward to is my relationship with my Father God. Even if all else fails, He is still there, urging me by His Spirit to spend time with Him. God, my Great Reward.
That brings me to today. Right now I am temping for an awesome company called Whole Foods as receptionist in their global headquarters. I don't know if I'll be here permanently or just on a temporary basis. I'm still studying for my English as a Second Language certification, which is going great. At some point in the future I want to go overseas to teach, possibly to Istanbul. At this point, every day is more like a box of chocolates than a piece of cake (you never know what you're gonna get)! But one thing I do know--I will always gain a reward, because my Father is always with me.
Here's the crux of it--however small, it's all about having something to look forward to. I'm always looking forward to the next thing, whether it's meeting up with a friend, worshipping, or the ultimate hope of heaven. I am goal-oriented, and it helps me do what I'm supposed to if there's a reward on the other end, even if it's cake. I suspect it might be this way for a lot of people. At school, it's earning a degree that sends you crawling toward the light at the end of the tunnel. In childbirth, it's knowing there's going to be a baby at the end of all the pain that makes the whole ordeal worthwhile. In work, it's earning a paycheck or a great promotion that keeps most of us motivated and encouraged.
It's not not just a human thing, though. On His way to the cross, Jesus, "for the joy set before Him, endured the cross, and scorning its shame... sat down at the right hand of the throne of God" (Hebrews 12:2). Apparently even Jesus needed a reward. You know what I think His motivation might have been? He'd already been in heaven being with the Father in the beginning, and certainly had that reward to look forward to. But I think His real joy was us--knowing that we'd come to know God through Him and become part of His family. Because of that, he could endure the present suffering and scorn from the ones that betrayed and crucified Him knowing how big His family would become in the ages to come.
If there is nothing else to be excited for, I often get excited thinking about heaven. I look forward to eternity in perfect bliss and everything as it should be. Back in the days of slavery here in the U.S., the hope of heaven was one of the number one themes for negro spirituals. With little on this earth to cling to, they looked to their eternal freedom and reward. Meanwhile, here on earth, some days heaven seems a long way off. That's where I've learned the past few years that God is my "exceeding great reward" (Genesis 15:1). Every day, the number one thing I have to look forward to is my relationship with my Father God. Even if all else fails, He is still there, urging me by His Spirit to spend time with Him. God, my Great Reward.
That brings me to today. Right now I am temping for an awesome company called Whole Foods as receptionist in their global headquarters. I don't know if I'll be here permanently or just on a temporary basis. I'm still studying for my English as a Second Language certification, which is going great. At some point in the future I want to go overseas to teach, possibly to Istanbul. At this point, every day is more like a box of chocolates than a piece of cake (you never know what you're gonna get)! But one thing I do know--I will always gain a reward, because my Father is always with me.
Saturday, June 4, 2011
For Beauty's Sake
I am always on the lookout for true beauty. It usually catches me by surprise at the oddest moments, prompting me to say, "that's the most beautiful thing I've seen all day". Today, in my white and green neighborhood, stood a large multicolored glazed flowerpot done in an ethnic style. It was all by itself, and evoked another brighter culture than this one. It did not even need a plant to do it justice. It just was. Later, as I was driving down a very ugly stretch on South Congress, there was a couple walking. The lady had on a long, strawberry flared skirt, a sleeveless purple shirt tucked into it, a large, wide-brimmed straw hat, and massive Jackie O glasses on. The man with her was not dressed extraordinarily, just had jeans and a plaid shirt on. What struck me was the way they were conversing with each other so animatedly and grinning. Though every bit of the woman's bright clothing was completely out of style (except the retro glasses) and the man wore nothing special, it was their vibrant connectedness that got me and their fearlessness to be happy in front of everyone. Because of this I could not only forgive the outdated styles, but rejoice in them for their color and reflection of the couple themselves. Truly beautiful.
Beauty isn't just in sight alone, though. I am right now enjoying the enveloping beauty of a very uniquely-scented candle my sister-in-law bought me. Its scent is "cilantro mint", a combination I'd never sniffed in my life. As one person said who smelled it, "you could get drunk off of that". It's true. This heady, permeating scent and the steady burning flame have been keeping me company all evening. Such warmth in beauty.
As for daily beauty, I am forever being reminded of it within my own apartment. My two ceiling lights refract the light with patterns like a diamond caught in sun. When everything is just so and I can sit and gaze at the bright and tawny colors against my cream walls, I feel as though I inhabit the inside of a Tiffany egg. There is such an urge inside to become one with the beauty I see, to truly inhabit it. Living inside my home's beauty is a close earthly equivalent.
Whenever I am caught by beauty I am reminded that what I am seeing is indeed a glimpse of what heaven is going to be like. When I am there I won't just see glimpses and windows--I'll live in it always, for God is there, surrounded by rainbows and inextinguishable light. When I gaze around, every bit will be beauty, and even when I close my eyes the wholesome light of heaven will permeate my lids.
Here on earth I still believe beauty changes things. "I want to add to the beauty", as Sara Groves sings, and through my life give the world a glimpse of the beauty and glory of God. Lord, give me an unafraid heart to express and create beauty in all its myriad ways for Your name's sake. Amen.
Beauty isn't just in sight alone, though. I am right now enjoying the enveloping beauty of a very uniquely-scented candle my sister-in-law bought me. Its scent is "cilantro mint", a combination I'd never sniffed in my life. As one person said who smelled it, "you could get drunk off of that". It's true. This heady, permeating scent and the steady burning flame have been keeping me company all evening. Such warmth in beauty.
As for daily beauty, I am forever being reminded of it within my own apartment. My two ceiling lights refract the light with patterns like a diamond caught in sun. When everything is just so and I can sit and gaze at the bright and tawny colors against my cream walls, I feel as though I inhabit the inside of a Tiffany egg. There is such an urge inside to become one with the beauty I see, to truly inhabit it. Living inside my home's beauty is a close earthly equivalent.
Whenever I am caught by beauty I am reminded that what I am seeing is indeed a glimpse of what heaven is going to be like. When I am there I won't just see glimpses and windows--I'll live in it always, for God is there, surrounded by rainbows and inextinguishable light. When I gaze around, every bit will be beauty, and even when I close my eyes the wholesome light of heaven will permeate my lids.
Here on earth I still believe beauty changes things. "I want to add to the beauty", as Sara Groves sings, and through my life give the world a glimpse of the beauty and glory of God. Lord, give me an unafraid heart to express and create beauty in all its myriad ways for Your name's sake. Amen.
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