The Journey

I'm in the middle of writing my Master's thesis on the music of nomadic cultures. Today's been a hard day because after months of work, I've realized that I took a wrong turn somewhere and am heading the wrong direction from where my subject was originally supposed to take me. That means I've spent hundreds of hours reading and reviewing articles that will have little influence on my writing. And what really makes my brain shut down is that I have a major deadline THIS Friday. So, I'll be honest, I've spent a lot of time sleeping today. Much like your computer does when it doesn't want to do what you've asked of it.

When I finally mustered the courage to return to my desk, I found a little book about Ethnography ("writing about cultures") that gave me some encouragement. I had to share this with you because it so obviously reminded me not only where I'm at in my writing, but where we're all at in life. So, I'm going to give a few quotes and insert the obvious…. I open the book and the first thing it talks about is that ethnography [LIFE] is like a journey with many paths. The book claims its purpose to be "to enable other researchers [SOJOURNERS] to enjoy their journeys and to reach their destinations." Two sentences later it says, "Ironically, reaching a destination in ethnography [LIFE] often means taking false paths, coming up against dead ends or detours, and sometimes losing the way altogether."

Hmmm…that sounds familiar. What encourages me about these little statements is not that they give me some revolutionary idea, but they remind me that it's going to be okay.

With that, I'll take a deep breath, hit reboot on my brain, and return to work. …And the journey.

Who Are You Really?

It's easy to get lost in your own need. I have been thinking a lot about the things I'm uncomfortable with in my new "home". Spending lots of time figuring out how to fix it, fluff the pillows as it were, and make a cozy life for myself. At the same time, Geoff and I have been taking a step back. One of the things the Philippines is teaching us is that relationships are important. So, we're trying to look for opportunities to get to know people rather than just being frustrated about the things they do that don't make sense to us. I've been noticing a few things about people. And it has helped me to care not quite as much about my cozy place. Last night, over dinner, our bass player told us that he used to sleep in a cardboard box when he was 13. That was after his dad died and his mom left. Our house helper's little boy (the same age as Ariel) has lesions on his skin and is not keeping his food down. They don't know why. Another member of our band's father just committed suicide. I know someone else who is really lonely and reaching out for relationship in the very act of cutting them off. I thank God that he has given me the opportunity to see some of these things. This is really why I'm here. Not to be a cool girl who is doing exciting things. I don't want to be a judge or commentator on the lives of other people. I just want to know them, grieve with them, laugh with them. Find the beauty of who they are. In some ways, this is new for me. At least the acting out of it. If you know me, you know I'm rather quiet. I listen a lot and don't ask many questions. The listening has done me well for the past 30 years. Now, I'm learning how to ask. "Who are you really? Why are you so beautiful?"

Note: The pic comes from my visit to a remote village in Mongolia. This girl lived in the school dormitory where I stayed. She was very quiet and did not interact much. The day before I left, she wanted to give me hug. Who knows why. We could never say more than "Hello." I wish I could have taken the time to ask her my questions.

My Little Girl

Can I just say that I love my little girl? I am hiding in my office trying to produce chapters of academic ethnomusicological writings, and in the midst of deep thought I hear in the background, "Cheese? Cheese? Oh boy! Cheese!!" Amidst all the other hats I wear, I am also the mother of an almost 2 year old, and she is absolutely wonderful (most of the time!). She is currently into copycat-ing. This means that if Mommy is cooking, she must cook. If Mommy is sitting with her legs crossed, she must sit with her legs cross. If Mommy is wearing a blue scarf, well, the picture speaks for itself. The scary part is, what else is she copycat-ing from me? What mannerisms will she have for life? And the plague of every teenage girl, "You look just like your mother!" Of course, now I'm honored to be like my mother. Hopefully, she will be too.

Cinnamon Rolls

So I was stingy with my cinnamon rolls, today. They were made by my hands, in my house, with my stuff, on my time, for my own comfort. So, no, you can't have one!

Here in the Philippines, everything is about relationship. Every interaction with every human being exists for specific purpose of connecting with that person. Even the sales clerk. And the shoddy construction worker. It doesn't matter what you need done. It matters if you've made them feel like a friend.

Just two days ago, Geoff was talking to our band about the early church and how everyone received and gave as they had need. We are blessed to be a blessing. And he posed the question, "What do you have to bring to the table?" For me, this hit at the core of my current dilemma. My first response was, "I've already given it. I left my home, my family, my friends, my cats, and my Wal-mart to come here. What else do I have to give?"

Colossians 3:12-14. Since God chose you to be the holy people he loves, you must clothe yourselves with tenderhearted mercy, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience. Make allowance for each other's faults, and forgive anyone who offends you. Remember, the Lord forgave you, so you must forgive others. Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds us all together in perfect harmony. And let the peace that comes from Christ rule in your hearts. For as members of one body you are called to live in peace. And always be thankful.

I think I need to write this one on the wall. All the missions training in the world doesn't change human nature. All of my resolution to live this verse out didn't change the fact that I didn't want to share my cinnamon roll with "friends" this morning. Again.

Yes, I gave up a lot to come here, but am I willing to share what I brought with me? God's love? My personal sacrifices don't mean much if I'm not sharing God's character with my new "friends". Does my cinnamon roll make this person feel like they're loved? Then maybe it's a sweeter gift given than received.