7/28 – Texas Update (Goodbye, San Angelo)

It is drawing to an end. Somewhat abruptly.

2 months has gone by rather quickly. There were days that seemed unending and painfully long, but at this point it is almost over. And it’s hitting me in the face like a splash of cool water. In many ways these past 2 months have been a blur, but simultaneously the memories are so very clear. I can still taste them. I can still remember the places that I’ve stood, the people that I’ve hugged, the words that have spoken to me, and the words that have been spoken out of me.

Many, many, many, many, many prayers.
It’s been a beautiful 2 months indeed.

I said several good-byes tonight. I kind of hate those. I am proud to say I have yet to cry.

I didn’t blog about big kids’ camp. You’ll have to hear about that from my mouth. Face-to-face, or over Skype, or over the phone. You should know that it was powerful. It was unexpected. It was life-giving and life-changing. And when anything is labeled these things we can be confident that God was there.

I will be leaving San Angelo, TX at about 9:30 AM tomorrow. I will be headed to Midland, TX. My plane jets off at 1:00 PM. I will fly from Midland to Dallas to St. Louis and finally to Boston. I will land in Boston at about 8:35 PM. I will sleep in the back of the car as we drive those 45 minutes back to my sweet New Hampshire. I will debate about going to bed.

Today a friend asked me whether I feel ready to leave. I can say quite plainly that I am not feeling it. And yet I have felt God whisper to me these past few days that though I don’t feel prepared in any which way, that He has prepared me. I am ready. Confidence.

Whispers are difficult. They’re so soft…and also kind of creepy. But when you know a voice, even the gentlest of syllables are familiar. The quietest of whispers can create courage. I am learning to listen to the whispers of my God.

Most people who know me know that I think a lot. However…I never thought I would spend a summer in Texas. I never thought I’d spend a summer working with kids. I never thought I’d meet the people that I’ve met. And I’m seeing that often it’s in the things that I have not turned over and over in my mind that God does amazing work. San Angelo, TX will forever be to me a place full of cherished memories, dear friends, and much learning.

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To My Friends At House Of Faith:

Thank you for the incredible experience of serving with you, learning with you, and growing with you. Thank you for what you’ve all taught me about compassion and love. Thank you for helping me not be a shut-in this summer and get some sun on my skin. 

It has been a gift to love you guys and to be loved by you guys. I will not quickly forget all that you’ve taught me. I actually hope that I don’t forget at all. So you can pray for me about that.

Thank you for showing me that the work is in the prayer. Thank you for teaching me the value of perseverance. Thank you for letting me hang out with your kids, and, in that, thank you for changing my heart. The sweetness of your guys’ love has touched me deeply. It has opened my eyes to the power of the Spirit, and it continues to help me see what is ahead in the Kingdom. 

It was my total joy to spend time with you these past 2 months. I will be continually praying for all of you. I hope God allows our stories to intersect again in the near future.

All my love,
-Christine 

What My Eyes Are Seeing

I wish I could show you what my eyes are seeing

The things that are being unveiled before me

The stripping away of the layers of dirt and filth

The breaking down of the cracked walls

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Walls put up involuntarily

Boxed in with little room to breathe

Caving in no view of escape

Walls built up voluntarily

Staying within the square of the box

Eyes adjusted to the darkness of the cavern

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But I wish I could show you what my eyes are seeing

Hope creeping up like ivy in the cracks

Loosening the mortar

Reaching for what is above

Climbing without knowledge of the top

Hope knows no end

Hope looks not always at the top but sometimes at the present

At the level right within reach

And it transforms

The crumbling wall turned into a home

For unfolding leaves of all shades of green

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A broken wall

A broken home

But a home for a King

The One who asks to live inside of me

Walls come down

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My home is messy

But open

My arms are quivering

But reaching

My eyes are closed

But seeing

My voice is cracked

But singing

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Because You are here

And You are what my eyes are seeing

7/11 – Texas Update (46 CAMP)

I have been in San Angelo, TX a whole whoppin’ 41 days now. And I am leaving in a short 18. That is almost unbelievable to me. It is certainly difficult to imagine.

I confess that I have never felt so displaced in any other season of my life. There have been many changes in the places I have called “home” for a long time. I know my “home” at school is incredibly temporary. And here we have another place, another “home”. My time here is short too, but that doesn’t make me want to stop embracing it anytime soon. This home is temporary. All my homes on planet earth are temporary. So in my displacement, in this diaspora, I am venturing on a journey back Home. To the heart of my God. A place of safety. A place of rest. A place where I belong. And what is beautiful about this Home is that I get to taste it in these little “homes” here on earth. San Angelo, TX – I’d never really want to live in you for an extended period of time, but your people have captivated my heart, so I’m giving you the label of “weird home”. Weird as in I don’t really know why I feel this natural affinity to this brown, very dry, very hot space of Texas. Home as in regardless of the peculiarity the affinity is there undeniably.

This past week I went to 46 Camp…aka camp for 4th-6th graders. I think it’s pretty easy to say that was the most physically exhausting thing I have ever experienced. When I got back to our house on Friday I had literally 7 narcoleptic naps. I was sitting at the dining table talking to my roommates and then fell asleep. I read a book in my room and fell asleep. I texted some people and fell asleep. I drank some Dr. Pepper and fell asleep. If anyone’s life captured “completely lame” at any moment in the time space continuum, I would like to petition that mine did that pretty well on Friday.

Let me tell you some amazing stories from camp. You should know now that “amazing” can mean both “GOD IS REAL/MIRACLES ARE HAPPENING amazing” and “THESE CHILDREN ARE DRIVING ME BONKERS AND I’M GOING TO LAUGH AT THEM amazing”.

I had the privilege of having Kylie be my co-counselor. She is truly tremendous. I have met few women as honest and delightful as she. We balanced each other out pretty well. She was tender and nurturing to the kids. And I laughed at them and told them to get over stuff.

First off, within 10 minutes of getting into our cabin this little girl named Christa (who might be the most high maintenance 10-year-old I have ever met) fell through her bunk. Literally fell through. And she was top. Oops. I am now going to tell you several hilarious stories about this little girl. Please picture in your head a tiny girl with glasses and a lisp.

• On Tuesday night after our first full day at camp we were trying to get all our girls showered and to bed. Christa refused to shower, so Kylie had to take her aside and talk to her. When the talk was over Christa scrambled back onto her bed, and when Kylie went over to tell her (yet again) that showers were indeed mandatory these are the words that came from her mouth: “I’M TIRED AND GRUMPY. AND I’M GRUMPY AND I’M TIRED. PLUS I HAVE HORMONESTH!!!” Okay, little girl, you are 10-years-old. I’m just sayin’.
• One morning Christa fell out of her bed. I don’t really know how she toppled down like that, but this girl seems to do the impossible all the time. Immediately she begins to throw this enormous tantrum, flailing her arms in every direction. “I CAN’T FIND MY BANDANA. I DON’T KNOW WHERE IT IS. WHAT THE HECK!!!!!!” My response, “Sweetie, it’s wrapped around your neck…” Her response? “Oh. Hey, I’m funny!” Yeah about that…
• Christa also had a tendency to leave her stuff everywhere, and we had to have multiple talks with her about being responsible for her things, especially at camp when Kylie and I were also responsible for 10 other rambunctious girls. One afternoon during rest time Christa had inevitably lost something and quickly began to accuse people of stealing it. Kylie decided to be the good counselor and have a tender-hearted teaching moment, while firmly rebuking such quick accusations. I know, she’s pretty legit.

  Kylie: “Now, Christa, I know it’s really easy to lose things, but we just have to be really careful, especially here at camp because there are so many people. Remember all those other times we talked about that? I totally understand where y0u’re coming from, at home I lose things all the time too, but we just have to be mindful.”
  Christa: “It’s okay, I’m a loser too. …I MEAN LIKE I LOSE THINGS NOT LIKE, WELL Y’KNOW!”

  I almost peed my pants from laughing so hard. Good teaching moment…gone just like that.

Also, at camp I was in this morning show skit called The Jane Cho Tom Show, where I talked in this ridiculous Asian accent (thank you Tom Shaughnessy) and signed off with the line – keep da fohtune in yo cookie!
Needless to say camp became one big Asian joke. Just like the rest of my life.

Aside from hilarious little girls and teaching children how to be racist God really did some amazing things in this short, exhausting week. One of my campers from Sports Camp was in my group again for 46 camp. Haliegh. I had to pull her aside for a conversation within the first 30 minutes we were together. Certainly bad attitudes get even the best of us…

I told her that she was one of the oldest girls in the group and that she was an awesome leader, but she needs to learn to use those leadership skills for good rather than influencing others for bad. Before you applaud me for these words of wisdom you should know I had the same talk given to me by my mentor, Michele Downen, when I was in 7th grade and manipulated every conversation in small group to be about my dog. I was really annoying. And I used my skills for evil. You can ask Michele, she’ll tell you without hesitation.

The change we saw in Haliegh was incredible. She became our go-to girl to lead us in prayer, and she quieted the other girls down for us. Sometimes she got a little bossy, so that’s when I said, “HEY! That’s my job.” When all of us from HoF went out to get pizza after we got back from camp Marci rushed in and told all of us that Haliegh had called her and told her she had shared with one of her grandmother’s friends what she had learned at camp – that she really is a leader and can influence people for good – and that man she shared with decided he wanted to donate $50 to House of Faith. God’s pretty dang cool, huh?

I will not quickly forget camp. In fact I hope to remember it for a very long time – like the rest of my life kind of long. The images of kids singing “Our God” eyes closed, experiencing God for perhaps the very first time, being hugged tightly as tears stream down my little girls’ faces as they talk about their broken families, being sprayed in the face by their water bottles and laughed at for twitching uncontrollably, having sweet notes written to me by Erika G. before I went to bed, being asked to sing “Beautiful Things” and “Our God” again and again and again before they fell asleep are maybe eraseable from my mind, but permanent on my heart.

God is continuing to break my heart for the kids here in San Angelo and He is renewing me each day by showing me the work of His heart – how it restores, how it heals, and how it changes me every second of every day.

I am grateful to be here. The people I am getting to know more each day bring delight to my soul. I may not know where I am to settle, but I do know that my restlessness can be a source of passionate movement rather than anxious stagnancy. I am finding more reasons to say “thank you” with each day, with each laugh, with each hug, with each breath. I am overwhelmed by goodness because I certainly do not deserve life like this. I never thought life could be so entirely marked by grace, and I am thankful.