Judging Others' Thanks-giving

In the United States, for many, Thanksgiving is celebrated this week.

I am a proponent of thankfulness--I think it's beautiful. In fact, I am in a journey of learning what it looks like to live out a spirit of gratitude and grace. It's difficult, good, work. The downside? This holiday of football and food comatose has me rolling my eyes at "thanksgiving". It's bad.

And it's not just the Black Friday (er, late Thursday) shopping. Nor is it just the realities of what colonization actually looked like (and how our textbooks tell only partial stories). But what's really getting me, in the midst of this all, is the mandatory, everyone shares, thanks-giving. You know, the time when the leader of the group or the family takes advantage of that period of quietness and brings the conversation back to "what it's all about".

You see, I am one who judges both myself and others. These times of sharing are full of intentional and unintentional judging on my part.

 I hear "I'm thankful for my boyfriend" and I think "you want everyone to know you have a boyfriend. Duly noted, let's move on."
They say, "I'm thankful for Jesus" and I think "Brownie points for the Sunday school answer."
And then there's the one who says something like, "I'm just thankful to have a roof over my head" and I think "Yeah, me too, but now you're making our answers seem so trivial!"

These thanks-giving times are not meant to be selfish, but I make them. I worry about what others are going to think about me based on what I say and I judge others about what they say. And I think I'm not the only one who does this. So should we stop doing times of thanks-giving because of people like me who are secretly (or not-so-secretly any more) judging on the inside? Heck no. Personally, I've found a coping mechanism, of sorts, one to use for now as God works inside my heart on this issue of judging.


Here it is: I don't really listen to the content all that much. Instead, I listen to the other parts of what people are saying.
I see the relief in people's eyes as they give thanks for healing of...
I hear strength in their voice for their courage to go another year without...
I notice arms flailing out of enthusiasm for...

And sometimes I can hear the questioning between their words and their heart.
And sometimes I see the fidgeting of the person next to me when they hear the good fortunes another, not they, received.

There's more going on than the words and sometimes these can be a greater reflection of the gratitude and community experienced at Thanksgiving time. May we find wonderful things to be thankful for and express these in true ways this week. And may people like me not ruin it for those non-judgers I aspire to be like.

In thanksgiving,
Christina

Citizenship

Acknowledging what it means to have my home-born citizenship be in the United States has been a doozy of a journey for me, and one that I am, no doubt, still in.

When I was in the 10th grade I traveled outside of the country for the first time and saw how my citizenship to the United States, skin color, and gender were the cause for many catcalls and superior treatment. It was also the reason for much avoidance and why people felt it was okay to take our spot in grocery store lines. I had never experienced this different treatment before, because I grew up in a town where I was a majority and privilege was a norm. My time in Peru opened my eyes to different ways of living and also the effects of being gringa.

As I began to expand my understanding of other cultures and countries, I also began to loathe my citizenship and living status in the United States. I planned to leave the States as soon as possible. This "soon as possible" was pushed further and further back when I felt led to go to undergrad in the United States. When I went to college, I had to create a short list of "reasons why I'm grateful to be in the US" to remind myself that there are good things here.

While I am not nearly as anti-American as I used to be, I still struggle with the fact that I can not change my history. No matter where I live, the fact that I was born and raised in the United States will not change. My birthplace and citizenship will remain, along with the privilege this carries. This is sometimes a hard reality for me to swallow.

This last week, though, I have been finding comfort and encouragement from the Apostle Paul and his adventures told in the book of Acts. Paul has a pretty crazy story which only gets crazier once he starts to follow God. Towards the end of his life he is getting flogged, persecuted, and receiving death threats left and right because the gospel that he is preaching is not what the people around believe or want to hear. Paul knows what he's about, though, and isn't going to shift his convictions. He also knows where he is from and the implications that has in their society. He, like many of the people persecuting him, is a Roman. But as I read different sections (such as Acts 16:37-40 or Acts 21:37-22:6) I noticed that the nay-sayers must not have realized Paul's ethnicity or citizenship. Then, BAM, Paul pulls out his citizenship card (figuratively) and all the privilege that comes with his Roman citizenship is granted him, even in the midst of persecution. The privilege that he carried as a Roman citizenship was the platform on which he was able to preach the Gospel again and again, also sparing more days for him to live (see Acts 22:26-29!)

It is encouraging to me that
1. Paul did not live out of his privilege all the time. Or even most of the time. In fact, he seemed to be living in such a way that people did not know he had the privilege he did.
2. Paul knew when to use the privilege he had as a platform to preach the Gospel.

At this point in my journey, my prayer and hope is that I may be able to acknowledge and learn about the privilege that comes with my citizenship (as well as other factors such as ethnicity, gender, education, and so on). I also trust that the God who has created me and placed me where I am, may use any privilege society gives me to create space to share His love and truth.

In peace (and [still] in the United States),
Christina

We're Better Together (context:faith)

I am a firm believer of it: we're better together. Here are some of my thoughts as to why, in the context of Christian faith.

You see, it was in high school that the epiphany hit me: We each see the same sky, differently. Even if I am lying right next to someone, cloud-watching, we see the sky differently based on the mere fact that we are at different, albeit minutely minutely different, points on earth's surface. This was a huge revelation for me and it got even deeper as I shared this with my friend (see, we're better together). He responded "it's kind of like with God. We each see God in a different way." Yeah, we do. 

One could take this the universalism route, saying that any religion and faith practice is right for different people. I don't roll that way. But I do think that what my friend said that day rings true. 

We each have a unique story. We come from different cultures. And we are not all wired the same. 

I am reading the book of Revelations right now and was struck by how, when God was giving His words to the 7 different churches, he revealed himself in different ways. To the church experiencing persecution, God describes himself as "...the First and the Last, who died and came to life" (Rev 2:8). To the church dealing a lot with sexual sins, he reveals himself as "...He who searches hearts and minds..." (Rev. 2: 23b). To each church, it is as if God was highlighting a part of himself that He knows the people will get. Who He is relates to them; God's relevant like that. 

For those with little: Provider God. 
When surrounded by nature: Creator God. 
To the orphaned, or abandoned: Father God
Those persecuted: My Defender

And so on. God's names and attributes are all through scripture--check it out. 

These different characteristics of God may ring true for different people, with their unique stories, at different times.  And this leads me to conclude: I think we'd do better to know people different than we are, to listen to each other's stories, and to learn more of who God is. We're better together. 

In peace, Christina

Cups of Joe and Life Rhythms

In this season of my life, I have little that remains the same from year to year, or sometimes even from week to week. In many ways, I like living like this. I have a natural tendency to begin daydreaming about what's the next big thing soon after I start a new project or activity. I like mixing things up. But, at the same time, I highly value consistency. I consider myself a loyal person and I seek consistent things and people to root and ground myself in.

This summer I created goals and on the list, between "become a morning person, again" and "create a doable budget" was: "foster rhythms for my life".

Rhythms and routines are important. Just ask any elementary teacher and they can vouch for the [greater level of] insanity they would have without their daily schedule. Physically, our bodies naturally operate out of cycles and rhythms, such as the circadian rhythm that so many of my peers try to ignore. Spiritually, my Christian ancestors created things such as the Christian calendar and Liturgy of the Hours because they knew the value of rhythms.

Once spring classes were done, I began to think more about already-created rhythms and ones which I would like to adopt or create in my life. In Georgia, these times of deep thought often happened in the shelter of a screen porch, with coffee in hand. In Iowa, these times happened at a kitchen table, with a coffee in hand. In each state I've been to this summer, much quiet time has happened for me with, you guessed it, a good 'ole cup 'o Joe.

Without realizing it, morning coffee had become a key ritual in my mornings, usually partnered with my Bible and journal. In many ways, coffee has helped me create a sacred space of inner quietude in the mornings, before the day fully begins. Mornings can set the tone for the rest of the day--hence one reason why I want to re-become a morning person like I was before college.

You might call it an addiction, but I stand by my choice of calling it a ritual, a rhythm in my day. And a delicious rhythm, at that.

In peace, and with coffee at an arm's distance,
Christina

Those unexpected places

On my walk home from church I stopped to talk to a stranger who, I later learned, lives in Oklahoma but is traveling through Iowa to do ministry. Her bright yellow shirt clearly spelled out what she's about: "Want some prayer? Ask me." I didn't ask.

But, as we were talking about this and that, she stopped and said "you've got travels ahead of you," I nodded my head--she was merely restating what I had already told her. "God's telling me that you do and that you've been searching for something and you're going to find it in an unexpected place."

I'm not against prophecy or speaking words over others. In fact, I think it's awesome how God can speak to us so clearly through another person and how He knows we wouldn't accept those bits of truth in any other form. But, as much as I am for prophecy, I am also for discernment, wisdom, and taking things with a grain of salt. 

Maybe what this woman said to me will hit home in a huge way in my travels to come. Maybe when I'm in Washington I'll find that beloved pair of green corduroy pants I somehow managed to lose 5 years ago in Pella. Or my grandma's black pearl ring. Better yet, the passport I lost last year. I have this amazing ability to lose things I really like. But, I digress. 

I do not mean to treat this prophecy with contempt (don't be impressed by my vocabulary, this is verbatim 1st Thessalonians 5:20), I'm just saying she could have been a little bolder and gone a little more specific. Her words are vague and the more I think about it, the more I realize this is the story of life, literally. 

We find the things we're searching for in unexpected places:

1. We find ultimate love and true salvation on a cross (hello torture weapon of the Roman Empire).   

2. We find freedom in vulnerability. (Even Brené Brown agrees.)

3. We find greatness in servanthood. 

4. We find life when we surrender our own. 

5. etc. (Can you think of some other beautiful juxtapositions?)

I'm thankful to this woman in the bright yellow shirt for her openness to talking to a stranger. I am grateful she is in communication with God and wanted to share what she heard. If nothing else, my conversation with this woman gave me some food for thought and encouraged me to blog once again.

In peace, Christina