Thursday, April 28, 2011

Plans

I'm going to China, I keep saying.

It's funny to me how these things happen, words becoming truth, from the first time last year when I picked up a brochure, thinking that it would be interesting to study in China.

And I am excited, very very much so, and also a little nervous.

Everyone wants to know, Do you know anyone else going?

I say, No; I've learned to make it a half-joke. It'll be like being a freshman again. But I know that it won't be like being a freshman, because I know a lot more about a lot of things than I did then -- about the people around me, about the world, about the things I've studied, and probably most of all, about myself, about who I am. About how I am ever and always caught in the hand of God.

So that is a plan.

And at the same time, I think about what classes I will need to take the semester after, to finish all of my requirements and graduate. Between hearing her memories of Rome and whatever else we feel like talking about, my friend Abi and I discussed what we'll be taking next year... next year when we're seniors.

That is another plan.

And in a little bit over a week, this semester will be over and I will be starting a new job, living in a new house. I'm excited to be staying around where I go to school all summer when I don't have to be taking classes too (and maybe will have time to read books from our school library just for fun? will have time to hang out with a smaller group of people who are also staying around?).

That is a plan too.

But the other day I felt the beginning hints of summer and realized, I will not be at camp this summer. I'm okay with that, but it was sad to realize, because last summer was a good summer, and I love the camp where I worked, the people I worked with, the woods and trails and cabins and smells, the tire shavings that stick to everything in the climbing room. I know that I was ready to leave by the end of last summer, though, and it was right to find something else to do this summer.

And today I ran into Jase, former president as Dag and still the one I tend to default to and go to advice for in Dag-related matters. We were discussing some different problems; there are never a shortage of those, not in a club with such high turn over and so much interaction between people who are bound to get on each other's nerves... and then I remembered something that made me feel like laughing. Remember last year? How we figured that there wouldn't even BE a club anymore by this point?

We don't know the future.

And I am sobered as I think of the students who were just in a car crash and their little brother's funeral was this afternoon; no one knew, no one could have known.

And in Daniel class we discussed eschatology, something I was not at all enjoying last night when I didn't finish the reading till around 2, but today it is exciting. God is good, but we don't really know yet what that looks like.

But I know today, when the sun shines and the sky is blue and I am going to a friend's house for dinner.

And I know that my Redeemer lives.

What other plans do I need?

I am all at once courageous
I am all at once afraid
It came over me like nightfall
Like a freight train
I can't seem to hold it in
But I can't seem to run away
[Springtime Indiana ~ Sandra McCracken]

Sunday, April 3, 2011

From the End of the Earth

Part of my job as a counselor last summer at camp was leading devotional times for the cabin. Some weeks we spent a lot of time tailor-fitting them to the girls' needs; sometimes they were more generic.

One of my favorites that I did with maybe few cabins was based on Psalm 61. If I remember correctly, we focused on the first three verses or so.

Hear my cry, O God,
listen to my prayer;
from the end of the earth I call to you
when my heart is faint.
Lead me to the rock
that is higher than I,
for you have been my refuge,
a strong tower against the enemy.

We were focused on prayer, and these verses are hauntingly rich in what they teach about how we can pray.

What is the man who wrote this doing? Praying.

How does he feel about his prayer? It's a cry...

Where does he feel like he's talking to God from? The end of the earth!

Does he feel close to God at all? No!

So he feels like God is really really far away... but what's he doing? He's praying.

He's praying! It still gets me. And he expects God to hear him, to be his refuge, even when he feels a million miles away.

I love it.