Dispatch from the Desert

You know how when you're playing in the ocean, you often find yourself somehow half a mile down from where you started, even though you didn't think you were actually moving?  The current is an invisible, imperceptible, yet incredibly powerful force.

Pick any timeframe: last three months, last year, last two years.  As I look back on each timeframe, I feel as if I am presently a notable distance away from where I started.  I didn't notice the movement until now, but a spiritual current has been pushing me to a totally different place.

This place looks different. It feels different. Life is just different now.  I think the messages from retreat snapped me out of oblivion and helped me to realize where I am.  I am in the desert.  And for once, I don't hate it.  In fact, I've begun to cultivate a cactus garden.  I've taken to studying the sand, stars, and skies with all this wide open space.  And finally, post-retreat, I've decided to pitch a tent.  I'm staying here until God calls me out, and until He calls me out, I'm going to make this desert my home.

The Cactus Garden

It seems God has ushered in a new season of growth in relationships.  

Over the last several years, as I gradually learned to let go of my law school fellowship and build new ties at my local church, I've relished deepening relationships with women at my church.  The women are a very special bunch:  talented, interesting, deep, complex, and loving.  And talkative! I like talkative.  They are also good listeners, and they want to grow in Jesus, as do I.  I am encouraged by their stories, and I am challenged by their trials. It's been a gift to go deeper with these women and journey together, and grow together.  

An unexpected addition to this cactus garden are a couple other relationships with folks who are seeking truth, but haven't quite gotten there yet.  I've never really struggled with the messages or status of the Bible as God's Word all that much (some yes, but not significantly so), but I have a couple friends for whom this is a barrier to faith.  I'm not really sure what to do, but I've taken to exploring their questions with them, if only so they can have a friend along the way...and so I can keep an eye and a prayer on them in the meantime.  It's good.  Tough for me, because I just don't have the same struggles.  But I believe God has called me to this, and that makes it really good.

The Study of Sand, Stars, and Sky

I've always been a reader.  Growing up, I loved the Amelia Bedelia, Boxcar Children series, the Babysitters Club, all books by Lurlene McDaniel (morbid, I know), Beverly Cleary, Fudge and Tootsie, the Piggle-Wiggle books, and Frog and Toad.  In college, I read almost every single fiction book available in the HCW library.  In law school, pleasure reading took a dive because we were reading 4000 pages per semester anyway.  But when I emerged from law school, I picked up the self-dubbed genre of "fascinating non-fiction" and have been addicted to it ever since.  Need a book recommendation about Somali pirates? What it's like to be kidnapped by the FARC?  The smuggling of Chinese people into the US?  The drug trade? North Korea?  Life behind a burqa?  I'm your go-to person.

Except...not for the moment.  

These days, I'm in the middle of reading two books:  Tim Keller's "Every Good Endeavor" and Bonhoeffer's "The Cost of Discipleship."  Plus the Bible-in-a-year plan that our women's group is doing (currently in Job and Acts).  I really miss reading my fascinating non-fiction. But there's no time for it right now.  I'm too busy reading all this other stuff that is enriching my faith, telling me things I need to hear in this moment in time.  Again, it's good.  Studying the God who put me in the desert, studying things that He seems to want to share with me.  I have all this space in terms of time and focus and energy.  This is what He has called me to do with it.  So I'm studying...and it's good.

The Tent

I'd been resisting this.  I'd been plotting my way out (although really, that seems foolish now that I think about it...even when we think we are in control, we aren't).  I'd been dreaming up ways to draw or find a map, chart a course, and free myself.

No longer.

I'm staying here.  I realize that I'm supposed to be here.  This is part of the plan, and it is part of a good plan. It has a purpose, I don't want to thwart that purpose.  So...I'm pitching a tent, getting comfortable, learning to make a life out of this place.  And in this, I think I am finally--finally--learning to be still and really know that He is God.

Leaf by Niggle

One of the blessings I've experienced along this journey into the University of the Desert is deep compassion from brothers and sisters who almost seem to share a stake in my journey and its outcome.  Their compassion manifests itself in true concern, heartfelt prayers, and patient listening ears (over and over and over...).

In the most recent installment of such compassion, Larry and Jackie gifted Mr. Squire and me with Tim Keller's "Every Good Endeavor."  Upon the recommendation of other friends from church, we had actually already purchased a copy, but I hadn't started reading it (wanted to finish Bonhoeffer's bio and "The Cost of Discipleship" first).  Following a most encouraging church retreat (in which I finally realized and accepted my place in the desert, and turned my heart from despair to expectation), I decided it was time to crack open the book. 

I couldn't even get through the Introduction without bawling.  The story of JRR Tolkien's "Leaf by Niggle" just launched a stream of tears as I read about this artist named Niggle who struggled through his entire life to paint the tree of his dreams.  He could see it in his mind's eye, and he tried to devote his life to transferring the tree in his dreams onto a canvas to share with the world.  But life kept interrupting him, and the magnitude of the project--combined with his perfectionism--was much too large to accomplish in Niggle's lifetime.  Niggle died, and in the afterlife, he was judged by two voices:  Justice and Mercy.  Justice criticized Niggle for not accomplishing more in his life, while Mercy acknowledged all the good that Niggle did for others, even sacrificing time to work on his painting for the sake of others.  At Mercy's behest, Niggle is allowed to cross into paradise.  There, to his great astonishment, he sees the tree of his imaginings in its full glory, and not just on a canvas, but for real. 

Everyone is Niggle.  Dr. Keller writes this:

[L]et's say you are a lawyer, and you go into law because you have a vision for justice and a vision for a flourishing society ruled by equity and peace.  In ten years you will be deeply disillusioned because you will find that as much as you are trying to work on important things, so much of what you do is minutiae. . . . Whatever your work, you need to know this:  There really is a tree.  Whatever you are seeking in your work--the city of justice and peace, the world of brilliance and beauty, the story, the order, the healing--it is there.  There is a God, there is a future healed world that he will bring about, and your work is showing it (in part) to others.  Your work will only be partially successful, on your best days, in bringing it about.  But inevitably the whole tree that you seek--the beauty, harmony, justice, comfort, joy, and community--will come to fruition.

I am all at once encouraged and moved, and totally deflated, by all of this.  On one hand, the reminder (previously so easily lost on me) that God will restore justice to the earth makes my heart sing.  I truly long for that.  My heart desires it.  My eyes cannot wait to see it.  That's so much of the reason why I went into law: to be an instrument that brings such justice about.

On the other hand, ... really, Dr. Keller?  Here I stand, a few years into my career, and as I squint into the long distance ahead, you're telling me that...throughout my many years of toil and trouble, only a select few, "best" days will produce mere glimpses of the justice in God's restored kingdom?  Really?  That makes me really sad.  Is that all I have to look forward to?  What is the meaning of everything else I do, as I toil after the remaining "minutiae"?  

Or is that not the point?  Maybe (probably) the point is that it's not actually about me and what I accomplish in this life.  Maybe the point is that there's a real, just world out there that God will one day reveal, and that alone should make our hearts sing.  Maybe the point is also that even though we are mere dust, God gives us an innate longing for his justice, and He lets us do work that strives for that justice.  And maybe the point is that, against the crazy tide of this world and its ways, sometimes He lets us successfully reflect--albeit on a tiny scale, and only in part--the beauty of the just world that is to come, and in so doing, He allows us both to see and point to the Kingdom before our time has come.

My New Hobby

My new hobby is papercutting.  I started today, and the above papercut was my first project.  It took slightly more than two hours to finish this afternoon.  

I am addicted.

Not sure how I'm going to return to work on Monday without an X-Acto knife in my hand....

Gathering the Troops

Mr. Squire is away again this weekend, so I'm by myself until Tuesday.  Different husbands show their love in different ways.  Last night, I came home to see the above displayed on our bed, which just went to prove...

My husband knows how to love me the right way.  

(Thing is, I don't quite know what is going on in this scene.  Doggy and Mr. Taley apparently have everyone else's rapt attention, and there is an unpictured sign above their heads that reads, "It's time to go!"  So... not sure if they are telling everyone else to leave--which would make no sense, because they are kind and would not set away their brothers--or whether they are like Moses and Aaron, gathering the troops for an exodus. The latter seems more likely, but makes no sense since the animals already reside in the Promised Land of my care.  I will have to ask Mr. Squire to explain.)

Ohana Means Family

I found this email in my inbox this evening from Mr. Squire:

Subject: Ohana

Body:

It means family.  And family means nobody gets left behind.
It means I'm thinking about you as I ride the subway right now....
See you at home!

Xoxo

I am a little mystified--and surprisingly touched.

Mockers and Murderers

Psalm 1:1-2 

Blessed is the one who does not walk in step with the wicked or stand in the way that sinners take or sit in the company of mockers, but whose delight is in the law of the LORD, and who meditates on his law day and night.

The Cost of Discipleship, Chapter Nine ("The Brother"), by Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Anger is always san attack on the brother's life, for it refuses to let him live and aims at his destruction.  Jesus will not accept the common distinction between righteous indignation and unjustifiable anger.  The disciple must be entirely innocent of anger, because anger is an offence against both God and his neighbour.  

Every idle word which we think so little of betrays our lack of respect for our neighbor, and shows that we place ourselves on a pinnacle above him and value our own lives higher than his.  The angry word is a blow struck at our brother, a stab at his heart:  it seeks to hit, to hurt and to destroy.  A deliberate insult is even worse, for we are then openly disgracing our brother in the eyes of the world, and causing others to despise him.  . . . We are passing judgment on him, and that is murder.  And the murderer will himself be judged. 

So long as we refuse to love and serve our brother and make him an object of contempt and let him harbour a grudge against me or the congregation, our worship and sacrifice will be unacceptable to God.  Not just the fact that I am angry, but the fact that there is somebody who has been hurt, damaged, and disgraced by me, who "has a cause against me," erects a barrier between me and God.

God has been speaking to me through the above passages over the most recent while.  Through them--and through Mr. Squire--God is revealing my status as a mocker and a murderer, and causing me to repent.

Mr. Squire and I share many inside jokes.  The jokes are for fun and for laughs.  We also share many code words.  Those are for calling each other out in a gentle manner.  When I'm grouchy or crabby and Mr. Squire calls me Barty.  When he's chewing with his mouth open--again--I ask him how his food tastes today.  When I'm acting OCD about something that doesn't matter, he calls me particular.  When he's not being nice, I call him meanybean.  And when I'm being snarky, he calls me PT.

I wasn't always snarky, but over time, I think it has become easier and easier to be snarky.  Usually it is paired with the times when I am being super-judgmental -- then the snarkiness really sets in.  It's pretty bad.  But for a while there, I didn't really realize how bad it was; I actually thought I was being witty and funny, particularly since Mr. Squire was the only one around to hear my snarky remarks, and he usually knows where I'm coming from, so he was laughing along.  (Kind of bad when the wolf is guarding the hen house.)  Every now and again, though, when I got super-snarky, Mr. Squire would call me PT, and then I would join him in drawing the line.  

A couple weeks ago, in doing his own Bible reading for the day, Mr. Squire came across Psalm 1, and he asked me out of the blue:  "Is PT a mocker?"  And I replied, "I guess so -- why?"  Then he read Psalm 1:1-2 to me.  And it kind of broke my heart.

It hit me that in God's eyes, my being snarky is totally the same as being a mocker.  And it is a blessing NOT to sit in the company of mockers like me who--by the way--share the same sludgy position as sinners and the wicked.  Sadness.  Sometimes I feel like the Bible isn't speaking to me.  But man, Psalm 1:1-2 speaks to me--loudly.  And PT has been making far fewer appearances ever since.  

Then, last night, I was reading the passage in Bonhoeffer's book about anger.  Let's back up for a second.  I have to say: when I get angry, I'm almost always indignant about it.  I think I'm right.  I'm not a loose cannon; if I'm mad, I have a darn good reason to be.   And where my anger erupts from an ongoing frustration, then I am all the more indignant--even against my brothers and sisters.  

What I have paid too little mind to thus far, however, is the fact that anger puts up not only a wall between me and the object of my anger, but a wall between me and God.  That's a powerful image, and one that pierced my judgmental soul last night.  Nothing is worth the mounting of a barrier between me and God.  I need as much of His light, love, favor, and goodness as I can get.  Is my petty frustration or so-called righteous indignation worth the brick wall that separates me from God and someone who is His child?  And is it worth becoming a murderer for?  Um, no.  So why build it in the first place?  Good question.  

I'm seeing anew how far I have to go, and how much I need Jesus to change me from the inside out.  I'm going after the good roots, and I want Jesus to prune away the mocker and murderer in me.  Prune it away and throw it to the fire -- leave only what will be useful for the Kingdom.

Recap: Crossroads: Seeing God In Your Work

Just returned from our church's annual retreat.  In my six years of this retreat, I have never slept so terribly (i.e. approximately four hours per night because I just couldn't fall asleep).  But at the same time, I've never been so blessed/encouraged/nourished.

There's no need to rehash the past; most anyone who reads this blog knows quite well where I've been and what the spiritual struggles have been over the last 18-24 months as God has led me to a most unexpected place in my career.  In short, He seemingly led me down a very clear and well-marked path with an unmistakeable goal for two decades, then spun me around a couple times, muddied up the waters, removed all the signposts, and just like that... I lost the plot.

This has been the source of so much anxiety over the last two years.  It has been the subject of so much prayer.  And it has been what is probably the second most critical spiritual struggle I have encountered in my walk with God.  And it's not over.  We're nowhere near resolution on this point, to my knowledge.  (But God, please do feel free to surprise me.)

The subject of retreat this year was integration of faith and work, and it could not have been more timely.  Given my sleep-deprived state and the fact that tomorrow is Monday again, I can't fully download and process all the things I learned this weekend.  As the week goes on and the next weekend rolls around, hopefully I'll have more time to devote to elaborating further.  But I must at the very least set forth, even in broad strokes, some of the key things I took away from this weekend:

• After the fall of man, sin spread like a virus from person to person, from family to family, from community to community, and throughout the whole of humanity.  Following Jesus's redemptive work on the cross, God is gradually reconciling the world to Himself in the same way:  from person to person, from family to family, from community to community.  And while God could have chosen any number of ways to bring about such reconciliation, He has chosen to do it through us.  And if we are to participate and collaborate with God in changing society and conquering communities for Jesus, we have to be part of those communities--and have influence over the major spheres of society.  Think about when God called Abraham to Himself:  Abraham was not the only one who was circumcised under that covenant; the whole of his family and all of the servants in his household were also circumcised and shared in the covenant.  

• The divide between "Christian ministry" (e.g. pastoring a church, overseas evangelism, caring for the poor via non-profit, etc.) and "secular work" (essentially, everything else: think IBM, Amazon, Apple, Facebook, fashion industry, law firms, Wall Street, education, etc.) is entirely artificial.  Nearly every industry and job has its place in the Bible, and God is Lord over it all.  And God has made us His ministers of reconciliation.  To that end, our job is to bring the kingdom of God into our respective areas of work and establish the presence of God in that area to transform it into the industry God intended it to be.  (See Guinness as an example.)

• We need to focus on good roots (i.e. close relationship with Christ), not good fruit.  If we have the good roots, the fruit will inevitably follow.  But the fruit should not be the focus.  

• Seek the overlap of Creativity (how we collaborate with God to co-create with God), Community, Calling, and Career.  Ministry should not be separate and apart from work; they should be understood to be part of a single effort with God at the helm.  When at a crossroads, ask which option will draw the "4 C's" closer together.

• There are seven major seasons in life.  In no particular order, they are:
• Faith and Knowing God
• Fearing and Hearing God
• Discovering Your Gifts
• Skills Building
• Internal Integrity
• University of the Desert
• (Re)Choosing Your Spouse

• It is important to understand:  what seasons have you been in?  Which one are you in now?  What season is coming up next?

• Brett (the speaker) and I agreed that i am in the University of the Desert.  His advice is:  Don't fight it.  It's not because you did something wrong, but it's because God wants to strip you of your self-reliance.  The University of the Desert is the gap of time between when you know your calling and when the world is ready to see it.  Consider Jesus:  he had an 18-year gap in the University of the Desert in the time between his visit to the temple "to be about His father's business" at age 12, and the beginning of his fulsome earthly ministry at age 30.  All the major leaders in the Bible went through the University of the Desert, and it is common, normal, and essential.  Don't fight it, because if you do, God will just send you right back in.  Instead, use the time. Treasure the time.  The time in the desert can be a beautiful place (indeed, that was Brett and Linh's prayer for me yesterday evening), and one that we can thank God for and truly grow from.  It is the time when God prunes away the parts of our soul that aren't going to advance His Kingdom, and when He prepares us for what He has next.  When you're happy to spend the rest of your life in the desert, that's probably when you're actually ready to leave it. 

• How can we make a difference in our workplaces/industries despite our relatively low positions?  Might be hard for us to appreciate this, but...chances are good, we won't be able to do so absent a miracle on God's part.  Throughout the Bible and history, God has used a "marketing campaign" of signs and wonders to reveal His power and draw people to Himself.  Of course, it's not just about signs and wonders.  The Gospel has two arms:  the Word of God, and the power of God.  But usually, the power of God comes first to demonstrate God's power--and then the words follow to lead others to Him.  Pray for God to bring miracles into our lives and the lives of those around us -- that they may see His power, have an open heart to hear His words, and be saved.

• Don't idolize calling; idolize God.  What is your calling?  You are called to work.  When we work with God in our present place of work, He will let us know if we are in the wrong (or right) place.  So keep doing your present work in your present place with all your might, and trust that God will direct you.  And in the meantime, expect that your present work is your calling.

I have been so encouraged, and I am excited to keep meditating on all of this.  I've long known/suspected that I am in the desert.  I've been whining and crying and complaining.  I'm Israel all over again.  But I have renewed confidence that I have not lost the plot.  Nor has God lost track of me.  I may feel alone at times, but He sees me.  His sending me to this retreat (and providing sun instead of the forecasted rain for the last 2 weeks) is proof of that to me.   It's time to explore the desert, cherish this time with God, and take in the scenery.  I'm not sure how long I will be here (Brett warns that it may be a while, and the Bible indicates the same), but I want to start thanking God for it and glorifying Him in it.

Emerging from Vacation

We're baaaaack!

The long radio silence since my last post can be attributed to the fact that we spent the last ten days in Florida and Charleston, and the majority of the time, we had no internet.  (One morning, we even camped out at McDonald's for a couple hours to download some things we needed for a project.  Desperation!)

It was an awesome vacation.  And it's good to be home.   I think those two statements, in combination, are the best assessment of a vacation that one can give:  it was great, and it was long enough, and I'm ready to be back.

God's providence was evident throughout the vacation.  The blessings ranged from:

• Safety in our travels, not just in flying, but in the 1200 miles that Mr. Squire drove while we were there (in our brand-spanking-new rental car...which featured all of SIX miles when they gave us the keys)

• Awesome weather.  It was supposed to rain so many of the days that we were there, but we barely experienced any rain (and the rain we did have was short-lived)

• Celebrating the weddings of two sets of friends - one in Orlando (Mr. Squire's college friend), one in Charleston (my law school friend).  We heard such great speeches, witnessed so much love from friends and family members.  How could we not be filled to overflowing with joy?

• The incredible joy of celebrating God's creation!  We saw/experienced so many cool things that God made during this trip (some of which are pictured here), including:

• Seeing one brightly shining planet named Venus during our prayer walk.

• Encountering a rather large turtle on the road near our home.  We parked on the side and watched it cross the road, and followed it into the neighboring field.

• Snorkeling in a huge (artificial) reef with a vast--and I mean vast--array of (very, very non-artificial) tropical fish and stingrays, many of which were larger than me.  That was just...incredible.  So, so cool.  I can't describe how amazing it felt to just explore the waters, follow the stingrays around, feel their "wings" brush against my legs, bug out at all the colorful fish, be entranced by the schools of fish...that was one very magical afternoon.

• Watching pelicans dive for fish and wild dolphins play in the surf of the ocean.

• Exploring anthills...gigantic anthills...and all the intricate tunnels within.  (And then getting bitten by several ants during my Godzilla explorations...)

• Feeding an array of colorful tropical birds as they landed on my hands, my shoulders, my head.

• Observing the endless array of puffy clouds filling the ever-changing theatre of sky.  I love puffy clouds, and Florida is full of them.

• Admiring the vast reedy marshes of Charleston.  They are lush and reflective and so beautiful.

• Quality time with Mr. Squire.  This includes time and space for serious, meditative conversations.  Heckling each other.  Him playing hide-and-seek with my stuffed animals (as in, he would hide them in the enormous house, then watch with great amusement as I frantically executed search-and-rescue missions).  Listening to sermons online together.  Taking prayer walks.  Singing along like crazy people to songs on the radio.  Playing many rounds of the "Appreciation Game" (in which we alternate in stating things that we appreciate about one another).  

• The benefits of low season at the parks.  On average, we waited maybe 10 minutes for each ride/attraction at Sea World, Disney World, and Universal Studios.  That's pretty amazing.

• Sleeping in.  Not thinking about work.

• Feeding my love for movies.  We watched four Redbox movies:  Les Miserables, Argo (which we loved!), Now You See Me (so entertaining), and 42 (my favorite).  

We are so thankful. 

And now, it's time to be back.  I'm a little nervous about returning to work after two weeks away, but at least it is a three-day week for me.  And our church retreat is coming up this weekend, and that will be good, because after two weeks away, we really started to miss our community.  Guess that is a healthy indicator that we are where we should be right now.