Learning to Fail

If there is one thing I often fail at, it's failing, or to be more accurate, accepting that I fail. In general, I have high expectations of myself and I can be a perfectionist. This doesn't translate to all areas of my life, but it's more evident in things I do for others. I want it done right, without a glitch. And I beat myself up when I get the slightest thing wrong.  Most people would never know how I get down on myself about my failures, because I'm often too embarrassed to let it show.  But it nags at my conscience and eats away at me. It can drive me to depression if I don't get over it.

I have learned that there are areas where I extend a lot more grace to other people than I do to myself. I allow other people to mess up a lot more than me. And this is wrong. It's not healthy. Not being able to accept failure and move on can have a seriously negative impact on one's life.

So as of late I've been learning to let stuff go. I'm trying to learn the balance between not being too careful and not being careless. I'm learning to stop, pray, forgive myself, and keep going. And with that I also need to learn to accept failure without excusing sin.

Recently, I was working on a high school English course, and for my final assignment I had to choose four pieces of work to submit that I felt best showed my improvement. I was supposed to show a balance of my best work, in addition to an essay assignment. As I reviewed work from the last few months, I settled on an assignment that was certainly not my best work. It was an assignment where I had to research people and terms related to existentialist philosophy and write about them. I hated it and found it depressing to just read about some of these people and their ideas. I procrastinated, did a little at a time, and pushed my way grudgingly through it. It took me entirely too long, and I wasn't sure what was going to be the end point of it all. It was not my best work, but I decided this would be one of my four assignments to submit. I wasn't expecting good grades, and I knew I could very well be hurting my mark, but I also couldn't pass it up and say I did all that work for nothing. I submitted it to show my persistence. To my surprise, with the other assignments and the essay, I received the highest grade I had so far in the course.

If you read my New Year's post and my mission for this year, you know I'm destined for failure.  Some people that I've shared this idea with in the past month have certainly not all shared my enthusiasm. They know it will be a huge flunk. They almost convinced me to back out or maybe reduce my goal a little. But no, I'm going to stick to it, even if I'm destined to fail. I know there will be days I will have nothing to write down. But I need to learn to pick myself up the next day and keep going.

It scares me to make it my aim to accept failure. It doesn't seem very appealing, and I think I may be inviting more failure. I need to learn it's okay not to be perfect, it's okay to take off the masks, it's okay to mess up. With that I need to look to the Lord for grace, for forgiveness, for cleansing from my sin, for His Spirit to live in and through me, because I can't do it. And my God's okay with that.

What Did I Do?: Selfies, Swim Class, and My First Flute

So my first week of trying to learn, try, or do something new every day has been quite adventurous so far. It's been a challenge already, but also a lot of fun.  Here's the recap of my first week.

January 1
I learned where New Year's resolutions started and shared about that in my introductory post. Later in the evening, I was reading The Locust Effect by Gary Haugen. It's a pretty research intense book dealing with a lot of global issues, particularly the issue of violence against the poor. I came across a number of words I didn't know and looked them up: counterinsurgency, ad hoc, and opacity. Mind you, even though I wrote down the definitions, the next day all I could remember about counterinsurgency was guerrilla warfare. Ad hoc didn't stick. Opacity did. It's when something is opaque. I guess you can't say "opaquity".

January 2
On this day, I was going to go sock shopping, and I thought it would be awesome to get toe socks. They were such a fad when I was a kid, but I've never had a pair. So I headed to Ardene, thinking that would be the sure store to find them. But they didn't have any. Neither did Marks or Wal-Mart. I learned that Wal-Mart continues to disappoint when I couldn't find some of the products I was looking for. I also wanted a beach towel for my swim class and was really hoping for an Olaf or minion one.  Yes, I think Olaf is like the cutest snowman ever and I'm also partial to minions for their cuteness. I'm convinced big eyes, over-sized heads, and cute voices and giggles sell, and not just to kids.  The closest thing Wal-Mart had was an Angry Birds towel. I'm not a Star Wars fan. The Angry Birds one made it into my basket, but I ended up settling for a blue and green crocodile print one that was more adult sized instead.

But I still had to do something new, and Day 2 was coming to an end. As I headed back into the mall and looked at Ardene passing by, my eye caught something. One of the things I wanted to try this year was going to a mall and trying on a bunch of fashions I despise. Go in and search out ugly. And now my eye caught it. (Please don't take offense at my fashion opinions. I'm rather conservative.) I picked up the article of clothing and headed for the fitting room. I chose to consider this my first fitting room selfie, since I still want to indulge in more of this activity.

The tag said "THIS IS FOR YOU". No, it's really not.

Afternote: This photo was not the first one I took, but it was my favourite. It took me a few shots to figure out how to get the one I wanted, and I had to play with facial expressions. :)

January 3
I tried a pomelo, which I bought the day before. I had never had one of these giant citrus fruits before. It's similar to a grapefruit and it's so big, I ate from it for days, with help. The hardest part is peeling the really thick skin. But they're good. I would get one again.

  
January 4
This day was already a challenge with my schedule. I want to sleep a little later, go to church, then I had to go work right after church and only got home from work at 9:45pm. So what I did was, instead of reading my Bible as I usually would, I read the first verse of every book of the Bible and wrote down notes about what I learned. I did the Old Testament in the morning, and the New in the evening after work. I had to check the Table of Contents to make sure I didn't miss any, which was good, or else I would have missed Ruth. My notes are pretty long, so I will share them in a separate blog post later on. I also plan to do the same thing with the last verse of each book.

January 5
It was a freezing, windy, blustery winter morning and I packed my beach bag. Oh yes, that was one cool thing I got at Wal-Mart, on sale for a buck! I started my first swim class on Monday. Swimming was an activity not encouraged when I was a child, but I've really wanted to learn for years. I can't swim yet, but I'm working on that. Since I'm the only one that registered for this class, I have one-on-one instruction. My instructor told me that your eyes don't actually burn from the chlorine in the pool water, but from the difference in pH.

 January 6
Tuesday was an unbelievable highlight and I was able to take a big one off my list, in a different way than I had anticipated. I turned 23 a week earlier and spent the day with an awesome friend. We've exchanged gifts for our birthdays for years. She told me I had take a rain check on my present, since it hadn't come yet. Hmm, what could she possibly be ordering that she was waiting to ship? Well, it arrived Monday and she wanted to get together as soon as possible to give it to me. She came over for supper and I made one of my favourite soups (see recipe here), and made cornbread for the first time. I'd had cornbread before, but never made it myself and had a recipe from a health book I wanted to try, which called for cornmeal and whole wheat flour, as opposed to white flour. A successful new recipe.

It was good, but that isn't what I want you to get all excited about.  This is what I want you to get excited about!

This shiny silver instrument is my very own Andreas Eastman flute! I had this feeling for a couple days that this was what my friend was getting me, but I wanted to be realistic and not be too hopeful. One look at the package wrapped in pretty pink paper told me I was right! I used to play the flute when I was in school, but was never able to get my own and I forgot how to play. It was amazing to put it together that night and play it for the first time. I kept a lot of my music from school, and I was surprised how quickly it came back, although I have a lot of practicing and re-learning to do before I can play like I once did.

January 7
I took it a little more chill this day. I sat down for over half an hour in the morning and worked on learning to shuffle a deck of cards properly, which I could never do before. I'm still no pro at it, but I certainly improved. And I learned that after shuffling cards for half an hour straight, your fingers get sore, especially when you have dry winter skin to begin with.

I also picked up my book The Locust Effect again. This time I learned about how corrupt the New York City police were in the 1890s, and the meaning of the word "pogrom," which is the organized murder of a lot of helpless people, typically for ethnic or religious reasons.


Hopefully this gives you some inspiration and new ideas. If you ever want recipes for anything I post on here, just leave a comment and I'll post it. Try to do something new this week, eat, play music, or whatever. Or just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming . . . .  Now you'll be thinking about Nemo. Hehe. :)

School Reflections on Mennonite Culture and "A Complicated Kindness"

This post requires a brief introduction so you will understand what you're reading. In the last few months, I've been working on upgrading my Grade 12 English credit. In the course, I had to read two of three novels, and write three reader response journals for each. One of the books I chose was A Complicated Kindness by Miriam Toews, a novel set in a Mennonite community in Manitoba in the 1970-80s. I was intrigued by a book about my culture and thought it would be great to connect to. I did have to meet a few content requirements, but I liked how the format of this assignment allowed me to express my views and write about Mennonite culture, and I decided to share one response journal on my blog.

Having said that, I want to add that I cannot recommend this book. Readers that know me personally will quickly understand why. The more I read, the more disturbed I became and it certainly had an unhealthy effect on me. However, I also appreciated how the author exposed some of the problems in Mennonite cultures and I really connected to some of the points she brought out. I have tried to be as sensitive as possible in detailing these. Please understand that this is a personal perspective and reflects my understanding and experience of being a Mennonite.

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Reader Response Journal 1 for A Complicated Kindness Chapters 1-10

So first I want to vent about how I feel about this book. On a whole, I haven't been impressed. It's a mockery of not only Mennonites, but particularly of the Christian faith. The only way the author can get away with all the use of profanity, including profaning God, is because the story is told from the perspective of a girl who is rebelling against her culture. Having said that, Toews effectively tears down the outward image of Mennonite culture and gets a lot of points about the culture bang on!

While I'm on the topic of my reactions to this book, I may as well expand more. Although I grew up in a different Mennonite culture in a different time, I can understand a lot of what Nomi is working through. I understand that although the characters profess religion and go to church on Sundays, there is a huge youth culture full of sex, drugs, alcohol and rebellion. What happens down at the pits is really not far-fetched. What did surprise me was the author's use of profanity, and particularly using the names of God as swear words. This is generally not acceptable in Mennonite culture, or the Christian faith. The reason she uses it though is to show the Nomi who inside has completely turned away from everything she has been taught growing up, as well as to authenticate characters like Tash and Travis. This was definitely a big disappointment to me, but it does show Nomi's troubled life, as well as the youth culture among many Mennonite groups.

Something that surprised me in a good way was the community's focus on third-world missions, aside from the fact that people are often compelled to serve out of guilt or because of manipulative threats. Depending on the community, this is something that is certainly not always common. In fact, in some churches, actively proselytizing can be very looked down upon. However, on the flip-side, in many Mennonite circles, serving the poor or reaching out through missions is an important way of demonstrating faith.

I don't feel very warmly about the characters. Nomi's a rebel who describes herself as a "sad, cynical pothead." (p.32) I don't find much about her likeable. But at the same time, I pity her, because she, along with her family, and all the people around her are trapped in a religion that is all about dos and don'ts, but it doesn't actually change them. They have the Bible pushed down their throats, but they don't "get it". The result is, of course, misery. I like her dad, Ray. I can't say I'm drawn to her mom, or sister. Travis seems like the kind of guy who will, sooner or later, be most interested in getting into Nomi's pants. Although a little more thoughtful about things, he seems to encourage her increasing substance abuse. I don't like him either.

There are things that Nomi says that really hit the nail on the head, specific ideas and mentalities I could really connect with. "We've been hand-picked. We're on the fast track, singled out, and saved." (p.17) What Nomi describes here is the idea that is common in some Mennonite communities that they're a sort of elite people, almost like a special people to God that will be saved, and everyone else will be condemned. Very wrong, might I add. In Chapter 7, Nomi describes the town she lives in, in relation to the museum village. "It's right next to the real town, this one, which is not really real. It's a town that exists based on the idea of it not existing in the world." (p.47-48) Nomi understands that their community denies the pleasures of this world so they can enjoy the next, but she doesn't know what they will be. She makes a good point here. When having a conversation with her teacher, she hits the nail on the head when she says, "I want to know what it's like to be forgiven by another human being (I was stoned, obviously) and not have to wait around all my life anxiously wondering if I'm an okay person or not and having to die to find out." (p.48) This statement really describes her confusion. In the church I grew up in, and in many Mennonite churches, a common belief is that a person cannot know if they're saved and going to heaven. We were taught that Jesus died for our sins, so we could go to heaven, but that was about it. The rest was up to us. We had to try to live a good life, make our good outweigh our bad, and hope, that maybe, just maybe, we'd make it into heaven. Hell was used to scare little children when they did something bad. If a person claimed to be saved or born again, they were gone off the deep end, and quite possibly rejected by their family. This seems to me to be at the heart of what Nomi can't understand and why she sees their faith as fantasy. It's a "reject-everything-here-in-hopes-of-something-better, in-hopes-we-can-make-it-in" way of life. This is what really saddens me about the culture.

I really appreciated when Nomi said, "Somehow all the problems of the world manage to get into our town but not the strategies to deal with them." (p.52) This is so true. Mennonites are human, just like everyone else, and many of the same problems exist, whether it's drug addiction, alcoholism, depression, abuse, or promiscuity. But many communities do not seem to have solutions to deal with them, aside from discipline or excommunication, which doesn't actually help the people.

There were other little things that made me excited, like chocolate puffed wheat balls. At home, we press it into a pan and cut it into squares. Simple, but always a nice light snack. I got a good laugh when she mentioned how Mennonites stare! Can they ever! Although this is likely largely stereotypical, I can almost see a line of little Mennonite kids standing at the border line of the neighbour's property, just staring! And Knipsbrat, which I learned later was called crokinole in English. I played that as a kid. It was one of those safe, acceptable Mennonite games. Oh, and can't forget the messy, bloody, and smelly job of butchering chickens. Like Nomi, I can't imagine doing that for a living!

What I found interesting and somewhat surprising was that children read Narnia books, and Ray gives Nomi a copy of The Screwtape Letters by C. S. Lewis. This may really vary by community, but fiction books weren't of great value when I was a child, and fantasy in particular can be a controversial genre in conservative Christian/Mennonite circles. Lewis can be a controversial writer, and people have mixed feelings about Narnia. The allegory is probably the main redeeming factor, and that the witch is actually depicted as bad. Personally, I enjoy Lewis's work, but I was surprised that this is part of the education system in Nomi's community.

I also connected to Nomi's love and desire to see New York City, but for a reason totally different from hers. I was never drawn, per se, to big cities as a kid, but in the past year and a half, I spent over 20 weeks in Staten Island. What brought me there was actually the fact that I was a Mennonite. I was volunteering with Mennonite Disaster Service while they were helping clean up and rebuild homes damaged by Hurricane Sandy. I loved being in NY, I got to see different sights, and I loved volunteering with this organization I hadn't hear about before. It also greatly challenged the way I viewed my Mennonite heritage, which I had lost a great deal of respect for. To be quite honest, I didn't even like being considered a Mennonite anymore. But working with other Mennonites in a disaster relief project helped me to see many of the different Mennonite cultures from Canada and the U.S. I also got to know and made friends with people from churches I had little to no respect for, and began to see them differently. I saw that there were people who actually had a genuine, active faith. It did exist among them, even if it wasn't the case with nearly all of them, or at least among the ones I knew. This experience also resulted in something else interesting. I had the opportunity to share my experiences at a number of fundraising and awareness events, and my audience was many times, people from the culture I came out of. Yes, like in Nomi's story, the women sit on one side of the church, while the men sat on the other. It is certainly not the norm to have a young, single woman speak to them! I have often been amazed at the opportunities I had to share with this culture. I am curious to see what will come of Nomi's desire to see New York City and how it will impact her.

The style of A Complicated Kindness is unique and surprising in some ways. It's told in the first-person narrative, Nomi being the narrator. It's effective, because the reader can get right into her head. The story is written free-form, and is somewhat fragmented. Nomi talks a lot about the past, and the past is often interspersed with what's going on in the present. She has a hard time dealing with her mother and sister leaving, and it really affects her life, so naturally, she talks about it. I find that as the story goes on, the focus shifts more to what's happening in the present. However, she jumps from one topic to the next, and many things she talks about are very random. It's almost like the book is Nomi's diary, and she's just writing about her life and what has happened to her.

One thing I noticed right in the beginning was that Nomi speaks about her parents by using their first names, rather than speaking of them as Mom and Dad. This is unusual. Also, the author very rarely puts dialogue in quotations. I wonder why she chose not to do this. Perhaps this is because a lot of the story is just Nomi processing things, or because it reads in many ways kind of like a diary. The author's writing style strikes me as modernist in some ways. She uses assonance quite a bit, mostly when Nomi is talking of riding her bike. In Chapter 8, Nomi frequently repeats "I like to ride my bike" and tells of the places she goes. The author really gets on a roll with the modernist style on page 37: "We'd stand by our front doors yelling stuff like shalom and Faloma and nice aroma let's build a snowma in the dark, we'd just go on and on, in early Menno rap style, until his dad asked him if he wanted a smack. A smack attack jack? Get back on track!"

A literary device used a lot in this book is sarcasm, especially with Nomi being a cynical character, disgusted by her community. There is a dark mood, over the story. Nomi is to a great extent sad and depressed, with a negative outlook on her life and the world she lives in. The author uses wit, especially in the way that Tash responds to their culture and the aspects that make no sense to her, like when she points out they can't dance but they can have sex with extended family members. (p.49) I'm not used to such closely related people marrying, but the girl certainly makes a great point!

I am interested to see where Nomi will end up, and also how this small glimmer of appreciation she has for her community, in the complicated kindness she experiences, will grow or fade.

New Years 2015 Plan: What Did I Do?

 
So here's my crazy idea! I'm not one for making very serious New Years resolutions, but this year, I have a plan:

I'm going to try, learn, or do something new every day of 2015. And I'm going to share about it here on my blog.  Crazy, huh?

Yep, you're all saying I'm going to run out of ideas.  I think so too.  Actually, I already know I'm going to fail.  That's me being realistic.  Things happen, plans change, days throw unexpected things my way, and schedules get cram packed. I might get sick and won't feel like doing anything more than absolutely necessary, or just try to survive another day.  So why am I even going to try?

I'll tell you why. Because I need to learn to fail. Not just to fail, but to get back up after I fail, again, and again, and again. Also, for me, it's not so much about succeeding every day.  It's more about challenging myself, growing, and living with more adventure.  I do have a list of ideas to work with, many of which cost money. I need to come up with more ideas that I can do any day at home. My ideas range from food, shopping, sports, spiritual growth, outreach, traveling, books, hair, and other simple things.

When I say I want to try, learn, or do something new every day, I'm not thinking about a bunch of grandiose ideas.  It can be very simple. I'm giving myself grace to, on the days I'm stuck, to go to a dictionary and just learn a new word and expand my vocabulary. It can even be about just learning to see things from a different perspective, or doing something in a way I haven't done it before. It's about creativity, challenging myself, and being intentional about learning and growing. And it's also true that I will learn new things simply by going through the everyday of life. People say "You learn something new every day." Well, sometimes it's through mistakes and circumstances we learn new things all the time. It just happens.

As I've pondered about this the last few weeks, I've wondered about different things. What if I do a bunch of new things in one day.  Can I use that day to skip out on others, or is that cheating?  If it's my idea, I can make the rules, right? What if I'm trying to learn about something big that will take more than a day? So, I haven't figured out all these details yet, but that's okay.

Today I headed over to Wikipedia and learned where this whole New Year's resolutions thing started. It goes back pretty far; it just looked different. Promises were made by ancient Babylonians to gods at the beginning of every year, and the Romans made promises at the start of each year to the god Janus, where the name for January comes from. Knights during the Medieval era would take "peacock vows" at the end of the holiday season each year "to reaffirm their commitment to chivalry." By the end of the Great Depression, approximately one fourth of adults in America were making resolutions. However, a 2007 study showed there's an 88% failure rate among people who plan New Year's resolutions.  Hmmm, that's not very good.

I'm planning to share what I'm doing and learning here on my blog. I think it will likely be a weekly post summarizing what I did. If I do something bigger that deserves a post on it's own, I will do that. I will disperse other blog posts and series in between. This web page will definitely be looking different from now on, but I hope you will enjoy what you read. I hope it will inspire and challenge you in your own life, to view things differently, to keep learning, to grow, and to try new things.  To live an adventurous life with God.

Reflections of 2014

Another year has come and gone.  Yes, it's only Christmas Eve, not New Year's Eve, but it's on my mind to write now.  Although 2014 was difficult in ways, it has come to a happy end.  It had its joys, many wonderful experiences, as well as some hard ones.  I haven't grown by leaps and bounds this year. But I have grown in my understanding of a few truths: that Jesus loves me and that God is Faithful.

When Facebook generated my 2014 Year in Review, it was all about NY.  And yes, that was one of the most significant aspects of my year. I left the factory world, spent time in NY, and now I'm behind the counter and enjoying it.  My relationships have changed. I'm learning to share my faith by just living it, and slowly in word as people ask about it.  I've changed in many ways.

I have so much to write about, so much to post on this blog, but I'm a little bit in holiday mode, and my discipline has been lacking.  I've had lots to do and lots on my mind, but haven't been able to make too much headway with it. But it's coming. It's certainly coming. The days of typing away at my laptop are coming.  I'm excited about some of the new stuff I will be doing and what I will have to share.  My plans for 2015 have dramatically changed in the past few weeks, and perhaps they will or have disappointed some.  But I'm happy with my choice right now. And I'm thankful for those who have helped me reach this place.

When I consider the coming of 2015, I anticipate change. I anticipate growth, although in a different way than I initially anticipated.  I can't see how things will play out.  People ask how long I plan to be where I find myself now. I don't know. I know that perhaps they would rather see me somewhere else. But one thing that has become special and precious to me lately is the sense that I'm exactly where I need to be right now. I didn't entirely understand it months ago, and I don't entirely understand it now. However, I see change where I'm at, and I want to see God continue to work. I have seen myself change. It's hard at times, and I don't let many people see the battles I often fight. But God is at work. And no matter how small that work may seem at first, it's special.

As you celebrate Christmas and the New Year, my desire is simply that you would know Christ's love and that the Hope He brought to this world would become real in your life.

What to Expect Soon

2014 is coming to an end soon and this blog hasn't seen a lot of action this year.  To be honest, I had a very hard year in many ways and I wasn't in a place to write much.  I haven't grown by leaps and bounds, and I haven't had any deep spiritual insights.  But one of my aims for the New Year is to get back to blogging regularly.

Having said that, I also want to warn my readers.  You may be disappointed.  This blog will likely look at lot different than it once did.  My content will likely drift from what I once shared.  There are several reasons for this.  Part of it is the spiritual dryness in my life, and I'm not about to paint my life as something it's not.  Part of it is because there are things I haven't written about, but they have affected my life in many ways.  I plan to venture to share about those things.  One series I had planned never made it online, and since I first planned it, it has changed a lot.  I plan to explore some different writing possibilities and some different kinds of writing.  And I came up with a resolution for 2015, that if I follow through with it, it will make for frequent blog posts.  I'm really excited about that.

I want you to know that you are reading the words of a sinner.  I'm a young woman with problems, and they only seem to increase as I get older.  It doesn't get easier.  I want to put that out there.  I'm tired of putting on an image for people and pretending I'm someone I'm not.  I love Jesus, believe in the Gospel, and the absolute truth of the Word of God.  But I have changed, and I relate to the body of Christ differently. 

Following are a few things I hope to share:

• A school paper I connected with well
• Stuff about books, since I hope to starting reading more
• My IBS story
• The Food series I was planning a long time ago, that never got written and has evolved since, because of my health
• My 2015 resolution series

Is there anything you would like to see?  I welcome new ideas and inspiration.

Jesus Loves Me

I just had a horrible week.  I was miserable, and then I finally snapped.  I'm not going into the details here.  Quite frankly, I'm not comfortable with being that transparent right now.  But by the end of the week, I had done everything from beat myself up, battled fears, hated myself, and been extremely angry and screaming inside.  And I just had to cry to let some of it out.  Yep, when I become miserable, it's bad.  And usually when I'm miserable, I don't write publicly, but today I am.  I'm rarely daring enough to be this real, or I think my life is too messed up to share anything.

I can point to the source of a lot of my misery.  Giving into temptations, the school course that is filled with so much I would normally never consume that changes the way I think and feel (that makes me curse inside, even if I wouldn't say it out loud), the pressure of trying to make my plans happen, the frustrations of trying to manage my small income when I have huge expenses, and wondering if I can make it all work out.  Trying so hard to remain in control of my life, and realizing I just can't do it.

There is one thing that keeps me going, aside from a handful of people praying for me, is carrying me through this.  Just one simple truth.  Jesus loves me.  No matter what happens, what I go through, and what I face, Jesus loves me.  On the days I know I deserve anything but His love, Jesus loves me.  His love is deep, strong, and unchanging.  It remains firm.  His love and faithfulness is all I can bank on when it feels like everything is falling apart.

I don't know what this coming week holds, the rest of this year, or next year.  But I know what I'm holding on to.  Jesus loves me.  It's all I got.

Confessions of an Aspiring Hermit

Last month, I came home from serving in NY, and as great as it always is, I must confess something unusual happens to me when I come home.  I crash and become depressed.  There, I said it.

I haven't been able to completely understands why this happens to me.  It seems to vary depending on the circumstances that are present in my life at the time.  But when I come home from serving, I have often become depressed, self-absorbed, crabby, and no good to be around.  I have spent weeks giving of myself, from the time I get up, to the time I go to bed, and now suddenly, I don't want to.  I don't want to give of myself anymore.  I don't want to sacrifice for other people.  I want to be left alone, to myself, and do my own thing.

Again, it seems to vary based on circumstances.  I come home to no job, therefore I find I have little motivation to get up in the morning.  Without what I perceive to be a meaningful way to give of myself, I become very unmotivated and selfish.  Yes, there's my family, but sadly I have discovered that it's often a lot easier to give selflessly somewhere else than it is at home.  No, it shouldn't be this way, but that's often how I become.

So in my depressed, unmotivated state, I come up with a grand, noble idea.  I'll become a hermit!

 

Noooo! I don't want to be a crab!

Wait a minute.  Did I say before I was crabby?  Uh, yeah, about that..... 

A hermit.  I want to be a hermit.  Since I don't want to go anywhere or do anything or see or talk to anyone, I'll just stay at home.  I'll take the opportunity to read, and study, and spend time with Jesus, and it's gonna be wonderful!  If I don't go anywhere and don't talk to anyone, I won't hurt anybody and nobody will hurt me.  I will keep to myself, learn and blossom in knowledge and in my relationship with the Lord in the parameters of my two rooms.  Oh, just the thought is almost bliss!  What could possibly be wrong with this?

Here's my confession though.  I have never been a happy hermit.  At least not for very long.  Every time I set out to be a hermit, the excitement is short-lived.  But instead of simply becoming sociable again, a raging war ensues.  You see, when I make up my mind to become a hermit, it's hard to persuade myself to get out of my shell, even after I know I won't be happy in it.  I mean, it can be hard to get out.  My mind can conjure up so many great excuses, that I can make sound very legitimate, why it's best to stay home.  Alone.  I become almost like Gollum and Smeagol, arguing with myself.  I can spit out lists of things I could do, time, finances, health, or other clever things depending on the situation.  But deep down I know.  This isn't for my long-term good.

"No man is an island."  Ah yes, one of the famous quotes we learn in school.  It's true.  As much as I would like to convince myself I could live a happy life as a hermit, I need people.  There is a risk in opening ourselves up to people, true.  But it is needful.  We need community.  Bad things often happen to people who shut others out.

As the body of Christ, we need each other, the church.  We need people to come alongside us and lift us up when we're weary.  And instead of just focusing on ourselves, we also need to be there for others when they are down and weary.  We are meant to bear each others' burdens and encourage each other in our race on earth.  When I get into my depressed, hermit-like mood, I have to remind myself of Proverbs 18:1.  "Whoever isolates himself seeks his own desire; he breaks out against all sound judgment."  Isolating ones self from other people is not wise. 

Tenth Avenue North recently released a song that speaks on this matter.

So take their words to heart.  We're not meant to live this life alone.

Struggles of a Dreaming Realist

It sounds complicated, because it is.  I have entitled this post "Struggles of a Dreaming Realist", but that's really only a condensed title.  It could be "Struggles of a Christian Dreaming Realist Who Happens to be a Single Mennonite Young Woman Taught in a Conservative Church Environment, Always Too Concerned What Others Will Think of Her".  Now that provides a little more context.  But I think modern writing laws likely forbid such lengthy titles.

This is essentially an article that explains why I am the way I am, at least to the extent that I'm willing to share publicly.  I find myself in a transition phase of life once again, trying to decide what I want to be when I grow up, and how am I possibly going to get there.  I am 22, single, unemployed, and evaluating my options in terms of work and education.  I just finished a summer of volunteer service in NY, but find myself wading through the struggle again of finding my place, having to make ends meet, trying to find something I actually enjoy doing, and maybe breaking down some of the barriers in my life that keep me from greater things.

But it's not easy.  The challenges of circumstances, upbringing, and what has been drilled into my brain for the last 10 years doesn't make it easy.  I have come to a place where I don't have to worry for a second that people will shoot down my ideas and dreams.  I do that myself.  And I do that to just about everyone else that make suggestions to me for my life.  I only realized this in the last few weeks and months in the conversations I've had with various people.  They see my potential, the things I'm capable of, the knowledge, the ability, the talent and tell me about what I could do.  My response usually ends up being my well thought logical reasoning (ahem, excuses) of why it's not possible.

I wasn't always this way.  Eight years ago, I was going in 10th grade, and like everyone else, trying to figure out what I wanted to be when I grew up.  I had good grades and teachers had high hopes for me.  I was going to defy my cultural upbringing, go on to university, and build a successful career.  I took up a feminist flag and was going to follow my dreams.  I just hadn't ironed out the details yet.

Then life changed.  I had a spiritual breakthrough, started to home school, and a year later my dreams and life goals consisted of getting married, having a family and home schooling my children.  And I expected it to start happening fast, like, before I was 20.  (Are there ever prayers I'm thankful God didn't answer!)  With such a life ideal, there was no need to pursue a career.  Not only was there no need, it wasn't Biblical.  This was my way of thinking at the time.  So a post-secondary education at an institution was a waste of time and money that I didn't have anyway.  As a young woman, I was expected to stay at home, honour my parents, live a quiet life, prepare for marriage and wait until God brought my husband to me.  Oh, and no matter what happened, I had to be content!

Over the next few years, I swayed from this.  Prince Charming didn't come riding in before I was 20 and I was destined to become an old maid.  I began to toy with the idea of going back to school.  I had a love for writing and studying classic literature, maybe philosophy, and I wanted to do that from a Christian perspective.  But a visit to a university convinced me that for that, I was better off studying at home.  Besides, what if Prince Charming happened to show up during that time, or what if he would have come into my life, had I not gone off to pursue my education?  I hate to admit it, but the elusive prince was (and still is) always in the back of my mind when it came to making big life decisions.  I didn't want to do anything that might crush that dream and doom me to be single forever!

I started to become a rebel of sorts in my Christian surroundings.  I had grown in my faith under some solid teaching and had adopted some strong standards and convictions in everything from courtship, modesty, media, and Biblical womanhood, many for which I am incredibly grateful for.  But things tended to slip at times.  When tested, my convictions didn't stand.  I compromised.  And I realized many of the convictions I held to weren't actually my own.  I had only adopted them from others.  And when convictions are not your own, they don't stand the test.

And so I began to take risks and became more "me."  I would voice my daring opinions, do things others might not, and live a slightly more exciting life than some of the young people around me.  I tried new things and went places others hadn't.  There were some choices I'm very happy about, and there are also many I regret.  But today, I still find myself concerned for my reputation and what other people will think of me.

Please understand.  I want God's will for my life.  I really do.  However, God's will and the church's will can often get confused.  And when your ears are so accustomed to hearing the church's expectations and other people are pulling at you from different sides, it can be hard to discern God's specific plans for your life.  There simply is not a cookie cutter mold that fits for everyone.

At the present time in my life, I find myself very torn.  I desire God's will for my life in all areas.  I still desire marriage and a family, and I still want to focus my energy on raising and teaching my children, as opposed to being a working mom.  But that dream remains on a distant horizon.  In the past year and half, I have volunteered, traveled, and discovered great ways to use my gifts and talents.  I have had many people observe me and encourage me to use those skills and to find a good, well-paying job.  I have also had more encourage me to continue my education, so that I can pursue the better-paying careers and make the most of my skills and talents.

In one way, I'd love to.  These people have shown me that I have let a part of myself die.  They have dared me to dream again, to revive old interests and talents, and to become everything I could be.  And they mean well.  They really do.  And I appreciate them for that.

The problem is, the realistic thinker kicks in and explains the challenges of the rural area in which I live, the commuting distance for those better jobs, and how my lack of post-secondary education disqualifies me in the eyes of so many employers.  "Have you considered going back to school?", or something like that, is a question that comes up with increasing frequency.  And I continue to explain my circumstances.  Finances presently do not allow and I am incredibly adamant about living debt-free as far as I possibly can.  Besides, I can't decide exactly what I want to do, so I don't want to invest the time and money.  And if I do, I have to make sure that it doesn't conflict with my long-term family goals.  On and on I go, spitting out my reasoning, trying to make myself sound like an intelligent young woman, trying to convince them I'm right.  In the back of my mind, and in prayer, I continue to wrestle with what God's will for my life is.  And what about, what about...the prince?

Today, I sat down and explored some more educational options.  I'm trying.  I am.  I'm trying to evaluate which educational or career path would be best for me, what would be the best use of my skills and interests, what would open up the most opportunities.  Do I go for something that seems safe, or something I would really enjoy?  Something that would mean being out in the work force, or allow me to work from home?  There are many options, many possibilities, all of which are currently out of reach.

I made a plan about a month or so ago outlining how I was going to begin opening up opportunities for my life, how I was going to try things I've always wanted to learn, like swimming and crocheting, how I was going to study literature again and work on my writing skills again.  And yes, even buy my own flute and start playing again.  I put all these goals, these hopes, into charts and neatly prioritized and applied the finances required to see some of these dreams fulfilled, in the midst of all the other demands on my time and finances.

It felt good.  It felt good to dream again, to have a plan, to know I could go home and forge ahead, see things happen, achieve a level of success, accomplishment, and just do things I had so often wished I could.  But as so often happens, God showed me just how quickly he can turn everything upside down, and nothing but dust may be left of my dreams.

No matter how hard I try, no matter how great my dreams, and how much I plan, I'm not in control.  It means nothing if it's not what God desires for me.  And perhaps sometimes He sits on His throne, shaking His head, wondering "Why is she trying this again?"  I have seen God change my plans time and time again.

No matter what I do, life is still unpredictable.  Everything can change in a heartbeat.  The plans, the hopes, the dreams that once mattered so much can become entirely insignificant.

So what does this long rant and explanation of my life leave me to conclude?

I can try.  I can dream.  I can make plans and set goals.  But without God's leading, it means nothing.  I can put myself on the throne and force things, make them happen, no matter what the cost, but it will mean nothing.  I will not be happy or fulfilled.  And people would have no reason to applaud me for any of my accomplishments.  I could give all my time, resources and energy and perhaps attain success, but completely miss the mark!

So how do I respond?  I have but one choice that makes any sense.

If the Lord wills, I will.

"The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps." --Proverbs 16:9

How MDS Impacted My Life

The following is a brief talk I shared last week at MDS's closing ceremony in Staten Island.  I was asked to share on how serving with MDS impacted my life.  For those who couldn't be there, here it is.  This is the end of a chapter of my life.

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I'm Margaret Neufeld, 22, and from Ontario.  I first found out about Mennonite Disaster Service a year and a half ago, from a radio ad in my town, and since then, I have spent 20 weeks volunteering here in Staten Island.  Most of that time, I have served as the Office Manager here.

The impact that MDS has had on my life is hard to put into words, because it has been so great.  So much so, that it has even compelled me to resign my job in order to come back here and serve.  I remember when  I first went home in April 2013 after being here for one week, how so many things in life seemed so insignificant and I knew I had to come back.  It has been an incredible opportunity for me as a young woman to serve and give myself to something that has been so meaningful.

MDS has allowed me to apply my administrative and leadership skills in a non-profit project.  The way in which MDS has involved me and so often invited my input has made me feel valued and allowed me to grow rich in experience.  I never felt like "just a volunteer:"  In the 20 weeks that I have spent here, I have sanded drywall, painted, cooked, cleaned, learned to identify a lot of different tools, kept the books, crunched a lot of numbers, assigned rooms to volunteers, wrote reports, and a lot of other things I won't mention.

For me, serving with MDS was an avenue to demonstrate my faith.  As it turned out, it also increased my faith many times.  I never would have imagined spending my summers in New York City volunteering in a disaster response project.  I have seen the Lord open doors when things looked impossible and have been able to spend much more time here than I expected.  I praise God for that.  There have been many challenges, many long, tiring days, and much budgeting at home to make it possible for me to go months without an income so I could be here.  Some would call it a sacrifice.  I consider it a blessing.  It has been rewarding beyond anything I could do for myself.  I have stored up memories, made new friends, learned from experience, discovered many of my strengths as well as many of many of my weaknesses, and become a richer person because of it all.

In the past year and a half, Staten Island has become a home, and the people a family.  Within the walls of this seminary and on this island, I have laughed, cried, loved, prayed, succeeded, failed, hurt, and healed.  I have lived life here.  I have met around 400 different volunteers, not to mention all the clients, staff, partners and church family.  I have lived and worked alongside amazing people who have been there to support me, cheer me on, help me recognize my potential and caused me to dream again.  Romans 12:15 says "Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep."  I have experienced that here time and time again.

MDS has shaped so much of who I am.  I look forward to hopefully one day sitting down with my children and telling them the stories of what I did during this time of my life, the people I met, the memories I made and the way it changed me.  I will miss this place and all the people here, but it will always remain a part of me and I know that many of our paths will cross again.  Thank you, MDS, for letting me be a small part of this project.