I fell down in tears

I fell down in tears.

In tears.

When the Cleveland Clinic video started playing, I was beginning to quiver already. A few seconds in, my tears were already coming out. Having just finished a session of conflict resolution and experiencing the great relief which comes with it, my heart was left in a very sensitive place. The sobriety awakened me to the needs of others, awakened me to stop resisting the emotions which were always there.

Because I have to confess I am the emotional creature, the feeler of tension in the room and absorber of joy in the work place. When I am not living with a hard hearted attitude, the concerns and emotions and sadness and anxieties are very evident to me. I can tell when someone was put off or why they smiled in that way. It's the curse of intuition. The mantra of the ENFP. I confess there's a mothering desire inside me which I so often stifle because it's not cool, or it's not convenient, or I'm tired and dwelling in self-pity.

But after having walked through conflict resolution and employing my ears to do that which they are meant for, listening, and then genuinely warmly embracing this brother of mine, I was in a very soft place. And when the video began to play, when the sound track behind brief clips of people doing hospital things like riding an elevator, smiling in an eccentric manner to a child, or contemplating what these result papers mean in the waiting room hit my ears, I knew I was going to cry. As I read the captions besides each subject in the clip, the caption beside the patient, or the radiologist, or the desk attendant, I could feel this deep gut wrenching. In each caption was a worry or concern or reason for joy  for that individual and the way the video played out I could just hear the very loud message coming through:

Nobody around them really knows this information which is so heavy on this person's heart. You wouldn't know either if you were a part of their life because, let's be honest, when was the last time you sought out a person to really listen to what's on their heart...

And I cried. I cried bitterly and unashamedly as the whole class watched the four minute video. I let myself feel the weight of the situation and this deep angry repentance rose up in my heart. After my tears, I thought the emotions I experienced had subsided but  when the clip ended, Laurence asked me to share what I had felt. And as I walked back to the group from the sound booth where I had been, all the pain, hurt, anger, repentance, longing, and passion roared back to life.

There's so much pain, so much pain, (I am walking towards my seat, circling the class.) so much pain in this world. So much pain in everyone all around me all the time. And I ignore it, I fight it, I resist it, I turn my eyes away from it, I harden my heart and choose to not deal with it. And I hate so much that I am a culprit, sitting on the wealth of gospel and good news that's supposed to bring reconciliation to the world, but I am not doing anything with it. I am approaching my seat at the table now. It makes me want to flip over the tables of my fakery in the way that the Rabbi Jesus did once and just rid myself of all the crap my self-seeking brings. I sit. My head bows down towards the edge of the table. No longer do I yell, this a whimpering plea. It made me long, it made me long so much for Jesus to return, to come soon... and heal... And restore, I thought but didn't manage to whimper out between my falling tears.

Limits

What are they like?

How would they look like? 

Would they be something like fences or lines drawn in a box?

Perhaps it's something like a late Sunday morning, or may be an incoming schedule. 

Some might think they are like the burn out or the man in his mid life crisis. The mother of three with bags under her eyes. The student driven to their last drop of energy as Finals approach. The young woman reading until 5 in the morning to finish homework. The director of an organization partaking of late nights. A cry on a cross.

Or may be they look more like a week. Perhaps limits bear a resemblance to the waning minutes of the sixth day, and the soon beginning of a seventh day.

I am learning to deal with less internet access

So for the five of you out there who read my blog posts, you may have noticed it has been awhile since I put something up. Which is mostly a bummer for me because I have about three or four ideas in my mind that I have really been wanting to share, but current circumstances haven't been favorable to blogging. Mostly because I have completely thrown myself into my roles here in Germany with Amazing Facts Europe which has been a great blessing and privilege indeed. I am learning so much and thoroughly enjoying my job. I feel greatly under qualified and at times like I am not able to help as much as I would like, but nevertheless, I am giving it my all in every way I can.

The other part of the reason is that when I have found some free time where I would normally blog if I were back in the States, I have been without internet access. Now, this is not a complain by any regards. More of an observation really. I mean, in the States, the internet is never more than a few blocks away at the nearest coffee joint. I have not found this to be the case here in Germany. Which for someone who at one point went through about three gigabytes of mobile data in less than a month all on their own, would be difficult.

Let me sound cliche here though.

It has been quite nice to be unplugged for some hours.

Between work, a more temperate internet access, and being six or eight hours away from my loved ones and interests in the States, I have been enjoying a newfound liberty in not being attached to my iPhone's Twitter Feed and what's current on Grantland. Sure, I miss not being able to stay up to date with the Yorker, Atlantic, and Vice and I am not always able to be up to date with the latest viral video or the articles on Relevant but I am surviving. My Instagram feed is not quite as active anymore, but I have not suffered a nervous break down.

My mother always told me I am excessive. And I confess I am so I am, to be honest, enjoying the more disciplined life Germany is teaching me. Whether I wanted it or not, I am learning to deal with less internet access and in turn, I am learning to use the internet, not be used by the internet.

So it's been awhile since I blogged, but I can't complain. Life has been very full of experiences. Wordpress will be here later, but the potential extra minutes at work or with friends, won't be which makes me satisfied with my choices.

Christ is our unity

This last Saturday was a special one at the Christian Advent Center. It was a Russian-German Sabbath with a huge influx of local Russian Adventists coming to conduct the service. I am not sure on the details of the set up yet, but they come once a month and the whole service is conducted in Russian-German as opposed to English-German. The added complexity comes with the existence of some fellows like me who speak neither Deutsch or Russian. So at one point during Sabbath school, there was a Russian host being translated to German and English by two others. In my nineteen years of age, this has not been a regular sighting.

Having rarely experienced such a diverse setting for church, I greatly enjoyed to be part of the multicultural worship service. I also had the added privilege for this to be my first time in the back helping run the live stream, which kept my mind pretty full and focused throughout the day. However, I did not let the precious experience of being in that room pass me by. I cannot stress enough how refreshing this past Sabbath was from the many one-language services I have been to. It is nice to see brothers and sisters make efforts to worship together despite culture and/or language barriers recognizing that there is one faith we share. Moreover, we recognize this commonality supersedes the fact that we have to communicate through translators and body language and on last Sabbath, chose to worship together, eat together, fellowship together, tire out together, and close together.

By day's end, nothing but joy remained as I broke Turkish bread, with Croatian, Russian, Ukrainian, American, German, Bulgarian, and Brazilian friends. Cultural barriers be gone, for Christ is our unity.

The faith of my girlfriend

My girlfriend makes me happy often. She does this through various means communicated at various times. One of the ways is the admiration created in me as I have gotten to know, to understand, and to explore another mind.

A mind similar to mine, yet so different, shaped by different circumstances and from different genetics. It's exhilarating to think I have the privilege to specially commune with another person with a mind of their own. When they think, their voice sounds in their head. How strange.

As I have gotten to know her, one of the ways she's made me happy is by observing the way she lives out her faith. Now, forgive me for being so cliche and so religious and so sentimental, but there is a beauty I see and an appreciation I have developed as I begin to understand why she worships this way, why that moment in her life is an altar, where her Ebenezers lie, how she traces the hand of God in her present life, how she studies the Scriptures, and the manner in which she wrestles with the Spirit. Hearing her pray.

The truth is that it is impossible for me to know about the faith of everyone in this manner, but to have one person where such an opportunity is present is much more than enough.

So she makes me happy. And as the type of Seventh-day Adventist who loves to take a spiritual beating or as my good friend Matt Minikus would call it, get slain, I have a deep appreciation for Jacqueline Burciaga as I hear her testify of what she believes about God and how He acts in her life.

It challenges me to plead for discernment, for eyes to see the spiritual dimension surrounding the armies of the Assyrians, for I know I am blind. See, I am the kind of person, the kind of Christian who would like to be thought of as having an 'Intellectual Faith.' (Whatever that means) Yet, as I fellowship with Jacqueline and with other loved ones, I begin to wonder if this supposed intelligent faith label gives me too much license to doubt the plain teachings of Scripture. Let's be honest, the Bible doesn't demand stupidity from its followers, but it does communicate that a more appropriate posture in life is one of a child with wide eyes and open hands willing to be taught by the Everlasting Father.

So I observe her and I watch her and I respect her and she shares so much to me that challenges which causes me to consider whether I am allowing a blindness to set in; because at some point, may be I am not being intellectual at all, once again whatever that means, but simply being a hardhearted unbeliever who needs Jesus to heal the blindness, and so I am delighted in the courage of Jacqueline to stand beside her Seventh-day Adventism while working her 8-3pm job in the heart of the Las Vegas Strip malls and hotels.

As I enter this Sabbath, I thank God for the faith of my girlfriend for it blesses me, I confess I am blind and my eyes don't see everything, and I cry out, "Son of David, don't pass me by."

So He makes me happy for He has communicated to me in various ways at various points in my life and the faith of my girlfriend is one of them. And that I can see quite well.