How I feel, how I feel, how I feel.
I feel the mood swings of a teenager. I feel hopeful that the ups and downs will give me rippling muscles, just like the ups and downs of sit ups or push ups. I feel sore, just like the ups and downs of aforementioned exercises.
Thailand. Sometimes I wonder what is different? Am I really even in another country? People are people everywhere, and they all eat food and most of them have children at some point, and the toilets are an adjustment and people try to charge me more money for things because I'm a noob, but they do that in the U.S. too. I'm just less of a noob there. The houses are smaller generally speaking, and all the stores are outside, even when they are inside. The dominant religion is different and the language as well, and even the alphabet, making every road sign a work of art, and a mystery unless also written in English.
Wifi is hard to come by, as is good coffee.
My friend Koi asked me today how I have been changed by my trip. I'm still working through that. It's all these small things that don't necessarily come together, things that I'm hoping will make me stronger but at the moment I'm just a little sore.
Out of a month of traveling, it is only in the last week that all the challenges have arisen. A motorbike accident with road rash and stitches. I feel I have dealt with that quite well (although the nurses here are NOT GENTLE.) A lost camera, which was lost once before for 2 years, and really I am not sad for its absence, just sad because I thought three times in the last day "I should upload my pictures" and I did not. And the heartache that so often accompanies my tendency to fall in love with inaccessible people.
How have I been changed? We shall see. But I think it is in the strength I feel in my legs. Not physically. It's this rooted feeling that connects down to the ground, and up to the rest of me, that reminds me that I can deal with these situations, and I can deal with change, and I can deal with disappointment, and I can make my way across a country and around the world, and hopefully back. And I can make a damn good run on sentence. I don't have a photograph of how I feel, because I lost my camera, but really that's an excuse because I do have some pictures, I'm just lazy and prefer to write.
I feel strong, and aware of my weaknesses. I am proud of my accomplishments, and willingness to go in the direction of my fear. I feel a little more alone and a little less lonely. I feel a little less alone and a little more independent. I feel quite nervous for the return to album releasing/massage frenzy world, and the ups and downs that come with it, but I think I'm getting pretty toned over here. I look forward to using that strength back in the U.S.
Sunday, March 31, 2013
Monday, March 18, 2013
Adieu, Chiang Mai
Last night in Chiang Mai. Some days, I want to write without editing, speak without thinking, think my thoughts as they come out of my mouth/fingers/improvisation is an art form.
I'm learning every moment in every conversation and new relationship.
Art, for the evening, a strong resonating theme. V's art exhibition was tonight, and I had the privilege to play and sing at it. Thailand has been a wonderful refresher for my love of music. After being gifted a small backpacking guitar, I have been playing at every available moment, reveling in it, taking comfort from it (and singing along to it). This is how I started with music, but things always take a turn when there is money involved. I'm glad that a sincere enjoyment returned within less than a week of leaving paid gigs behind.
Not that I want to leave them behind forever. I'm realizing much about my worth, and about what I mix up for my worth, which maybe has very little to do with it.
Staying with V and Aree is an inspiration, a lesson in passion, an encounter with some really alive people who can't help but make everyone else a bit more alive while they're living.
Tomorrow I take a minibus to Pai, 3 hours north in the mountains, to stay in a bungalow and veg out a bit after all that learning. Larnin. Ya know. It was really nice to see my friends from school and my friends from town and my friends from the guest house all at the art exhibition tonight. And V painted live for us again, with a particularly brave nude model.
I enjoy writing my thoughts for the public, like live art, or maybe sometimes just a ramble, but I'm also learning that the things worth doing are not only the things I am good at. And sometimes by doing I get better. And sometimes I just get enjoyment out of doing. Painting. Dancing. Writing. Running. Mmh. I am alive.
I'm learning every moment in every conversation and new relationship.
Art, for the evening, a strong resonating theme. V's art exhibition was tonight, and I had the privilege to play and sing at it. Thailand has been a wonderful refresher for my love of music. After being gifted a small backpacking guitar, I have been playing at every available moment, reveling in it, taking comfort from it (and singing along to it). This is how I started with music, but things always take a turn when there is money involved. I'm glad that a sincere enjoyment returned within less than a week of leaving paid gigs behind.
Not that I want to leave them behind forever. I'm realizing much about my worth, and about what I mix up for my worth, which maybe has very little to do with it.
Staying with V and Aree is an inspiration, a lesson in passion, an encounter with some really alive people who can't help but make everyone else a bit more alive while they're living.
Tomorrow I take a minibus to Pai, 3 hours north in the mountains, to stay in a bungalow and veg out a bit after all that learning. Larnin. Ya know. It was really nice to see my friends from school and my friends from town and my friends from the guest house all at the art exhibition tonight. And V painted live for us again, with a particularly brave nude model.
I enjoy writing my thoughts for the public, like live art, or maybe sometimes just a ramble, but I'm also learning that the things worth doing are not only the things I am good at. And sometimes by doing I get better. And sometimes I just get enjoyment out of doing. Painting. Dancing. Writing. Running. Mmh. I am alive.
Saturday, March 16, 2013
The Thing About Time
I am always amazed at the depth of relationships formed during only a week or two of camp, travel, or other such temporary things. It occurs to me that this is the nature of temporary things. At least as I see them. There are two approaches to a temporary circumstance: 1. Dive in wholeheartedly, making the most of every moment. 2. Hold back almost entirely since it will all be over soon anyway.
I tend to fall in the category of divers, perhaps to a fault. Sometimes I contemplate holding back, but I'm not so good at it. Today, for example, I began a weekend course in Thai Foot Massage. After spending the last 2 weeks getting close and rather attached to my classmates, I wasn't eager to start all over. I said my goodbyes to most of my new friends last night or this morning. When it was time for lunch with a brand new group of people, I decided to sit on my own, feeling like "holding back" this time around.
Then Carlos sat beside me. Carlos lives in Texas. He is from Bolivia. Somehow, in the course of a 30 minute lunch, I learned the stories of Carlos and his family, the struggles of immigration, the multitude of routes he and his family had taken to live and work in the U.S. I found myself with tears in my eyes as he talked about his cousin who risked her life three different times to cross into the U.S. illegally, only to be sent back. I was humbled, hearing about the sacrifices parents make to send money back home to their families. And in turn, their children use these opportunities to care for their aging parents. And I live a life with small problems which I pretend are big, and small sacrifices which I pretend are big. And I hadn't thought, until today, about how important it is from me to be available to my parents and grandparents as they get older (and preferably before anyones health declines?). They sacrificed a lot for me, even without crossing any country borders.
The thing about time is that when it is short, it is more valuable. If you found out you only had a year, or a month, or a week left to live, you might make a few changes. If you know you have only a week of camp/school/travel with someone, your relationship might develop a bit differently from someone you expect you could see any time.
And because time is so valuable, because life is not infinite (or so I believe), the way we choose to spend our time can be like a gift. To dedicate oneself to caring for another person is a more genuine display of love than any cash contribution could ever be. Giving your time towards the service of another- a child, a parent, or even a stranger- shows how much that person is worth. They are worth your time, which is "short" in a sense, though it may be longer than a 2 week thai massage course. And it is because time is short, because we do not live (on earth, in this particular body) forever, that our time is worth something. That is my idea of a happy ending. Not happy because everything always works out perfectly. Happy because there is an ending; which makes the story worthwhile.
I tend to fall in the category of divers, perhaps to a fault. Sometimes I contemplate holding back, but I'm not so good at it. Today, for example, I began a weekend course in Thai Foot Massage. After spending the last 2 weeks getting close and rather attached to my classmates, I wasn't eager to start all over. I said my goodbyes to most of my new friends last night or this morning. When it was time for lunch with a brand new group of people, I decided to sit on my own, feeling like "holding back" this time around.
Then Carlos sat beside me. Carlos lives in Texas. He is from Bolivia. Somehow, in the course of a 30 minute lunch, I learned the stories of Carlos and his family, the struggles of immigration, the multitude of routes he and his family had taken to live and work in the U.S. I found myself with tears in my eyes as he talked about his cousin who risked her life three different times to cross into the U.S. illegally, only to be sent back. I was humbled, hearing about the sacrifices parents make to send money back home to their families. And in turn, their children use these opportunities to care for their aging parents. And I live a life with small problems which I pretend are big, and small sacrifices which I pretend are big. And I hadn't thought, until today, about how important it is from me to be available to my parents and grandparents as they get older (and preferably before anyones health declines?). They sacrificed a lot for me, even without crossing any country borders.
The thing about time is that when it is short, it is more valuable. If you found out you only had a year, or a month, or a week left to live, you might make a few changes. If you know you have only a week of camp/school/travel with someone, your relationship might develop a bit differently from someone you expect you could see any time.
And because time is so valuable, because life is not infinite (or so I believe), the way we choose to spend our time can be like a gift. To dedicate oneself to caring for another person is a more genuine display of love than any cash contribution could ever be. Giving your time towards the service of another- a child, a parent, or even a stranger- shows how much that person is worth. They are worth your time, which is "short" in a sense, though it may be longer than a 2 week thai massage course. And it is because time is short, because we do not live (on earth, in this particular body) forever, that our time is worth something. That is my idea of a happy ending. Not happy because everything always works out perfectly. Happy because there is an ending; which makes the story worthwhile.
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Constant creation
Thai people work so hard at whatever they do. It's like a performance, a creation, whether they are washing dishes, giving a massage, or driving a tuk tuk (three wheeled motorbike-cab). Whenever I buy steet food (every day), I enjoy watching my food being prepared. The making of a papaya salad looks about equally as complex as the composition of a fugue. Coming home from dinner one night I met a man making tiny beautiful flowers out of discarded plywood, wich he cut into petals, painted, and assembled. He looked "homeless," though you might consider many thai people "homeless" by western standards. I was inspired by his artistic skill, his passion for his work and the creativity to make money from virtually nothing. This creative process has captivated my attention, especially as it relates to the discipline of creativity. (Are these things not contradictory?!)
Every weekend there is a night market on Saturday and Sunday. The best comparison I could make is if the Ann Arbor art fair happened for 2 days a week every week. The street is shut down, and food, clothing, art, massage, and music take the place of automobiles. Vendors begin setting up hours and hours before the market begins. Small old women walk down the street balancing huge loads on either end of long poles. Impressive strength. Discipline. There is so much manual labor involved, for vendors to display their handiwork. Their creativity. Discpline. Creativity. Discipline.
This saturday I walked down the street at an impressively slow pace, "shiny" distractions slowing me down even more than the impassable wall of people. I made it to the center of the street in about 2 hours time, where I found V, a previous acquantance. V is one of those people who is actually cool. Not just in appearances, but in genuine kindness, enthusiasm, and (you got it!) creativity. V, like many of his Thai counterparts, is a creator. At this particular Saturday market he was in the center of the throng of traffic with three other artists, drawing portraits for whoever would stop and sit for a moment. He saw my guitar and asked me to play a song.
I was invited into the creation process.
As I sat and played, V began to paint me. In no time at all, a crowd gathered to watch. A live painting of live music! The energy was really something, the feeling of the crowd and the focus of the painters (2 more began to paint me as well, and one let me keep the portrait for free). I felt so priveleged to be part of it all, to create side by side with the thai people, from whom I have so much to learn.
I don't know that I have a closing thought. It was a really rad experience? Come to thailand? Maybe I would be a better musician if i worked my ass off like these people do? All of the above, I spose. That and, I think I'll keep carrying a guitar to the night markets.
Every weekend there is a night market on Saturday and Sunday. The best comparison I could make is if the Ann Arbor art fair happened for 2 days a week every week. The street is shut down, and food, clothing, art, massage, and music take the place of automobiles. Vendors begin setting up hours and hours before the market begins. Small old women walk down the street balancing huge loads on either end of long poles. Impressive strength. Discipline. There is so much manual labor involved, for vendors to display their handiwork. Their creativity. Discpline. Creativity. Discipline.
This saturday I walked down the street at an impressively slow pace, "shiny" distractions slowing me down even more than the impassable wall of people. I made it to the center of the street in about 2 hours time, where I found V, a previous acquantance. V is one of those people who is actually cool. Not just in appearances, but in genuine kindness, enthusiasm, and (you got it!) creativity. V, like many of his Thai counterparts, is a creator. At this particular Saturday market he was in the center of the throng of traffic with three other artists, drawing portraits for whoever would stop and sit for a moment. He saw my guitar and asked me to play a song.
I was invited into the creation process.
As I sat and played, V began to paint me. In no time at all, a crowd gathered to watch. A live painting of live music! The energy was really something, the feeling of the crowd and the focus of the painters (2 more began to paint me as well, and one let me keep the portrait for free). I felt so priveleged to be part of it all, to create side by side with the thai people, from whom I have so much to learn.
I don't know that I have a closing thought. It was a really rad experience? Come to thailand? Maybe I would be a better musician if i worked my ass off like these people do? All of the above, I spose. That and, I think I'll keep carrying a guitar to the night markets.
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Chiang Mai, Thailand
Walking down a street in Chiang Mai, one can catch any number of whiffs. Flowers are a particularly nice smell after months of a Michigan winter that still hasn't ended. Smells of food waft from every direction like wailing sirens, pulling me helplessly toward another Rotee, Mango with Sticky Rice, or some unidentifiable fried goodness on a stick. My smell of choice for the day was incense.
The markets are one place where odors might be a tad more offensive, but prayer incense does a nice job of covering the smell; or at least distracting from it. I have much to learn about this culture so full of respect, honor, politeness, and prayer. It's fortunate that Thai people are so gracious, because I am full of mistakes. This morning I cycled past flowers and street vendors and into the morning market. From the outside it's a farmers market with mostly fresh produce. Further in, the smells get more complex, as do the vendors. You can buy food or clothing or shaving cream... sort of like Walmart, only completely different. For one thing, everyone was Thai.
At first, I was elated! I finally found a niche in space and time where foreigners do not dominate my vision of Chiang Mai! But trekking into such territory alone means no one else will share my burden of embarrassment. I knew something was up when a monk dressed in traditional orange turned his head and stared at me as I passed. I'm not going to say I've never turned heads, but I don't think I've ever turned monks heads. They're pretty focused on things like meditation and celibacy. As I continued to walk between booths, I began to feel like quite a spectacle. It seemed everyone in the market had stopped what they were doing in order to stare at me as I walked past. Finally, an older woman held her hand out to me and shouted "Stop!" (with a smile on her face). She then pointed upward to the source of the music, which happened to be the kings song. Of course! it came flooding back - when the kings song plays, everyone stops and stands in respect. I know this! But my cultural guidebook didn't come with a sing along to help me transition from smooth jazz Titanic to more significant cultural cues.
Gracious gracious Thai people. They let me get off with just humiliation this time. The woman stopped me just as the song was ending, just in time for an impressively large amount of people to laugh loudly at my expense. But ya know, it felt a lot better than I thought it would. I'm finding out I like a LOT of things about Thailand; even the way they make fun of me.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
The Monster at the End of this Book.
Despite the title of this blog, photographs have been mostly absent from all blog posts. I have a digital SLR, a Canon SD, and a camera phone. And I actually do take pictures! But whether or not anyone sees them is a different story. That being said, I could present a whole photo album with only the most significant events and still not capture just how eventful this semester has been. And picture is worth a thousand words so let's not even talk about how long that blog post would have to be. Perhaps I will consider more photographs in the future, but I haven't done anything with them for the same reason that I haven't updated my blog or replied to anyone on facebook or caught up with emails for months. (Is it because I am too busy? Or because I have poor time management? You decide.) It scares me a little that in spite of all this, I am secretly (and now publicly) considering twitter. DON'T DO IT.
"I walked downtown today
I hoped that I could get away
from all the worries, filling up my head
I hoped to find some peace of mind
'cause I am falling far behind on everything
but this moment"
(song lyrics by Dave Harburg and myself)
Speaking of lyrics- I went to my first college party! Playing guitar. It was actually an under the sea party at the law quad, and I was not partaking of alcohol or party activities, but rather producing music that could not be heard by anyone at all due to ordinary party noises.
It brought about another set of lyrics:
"It doesn't matter who's listening
'cause I hear you, and you hear me"
(Bex and Abbie)
Far better when there's music involved, and lyrics, and when no one can hear you at all. You'd think I've been doing a lot of songwriting, wouldn't you. FALSE.
Which leads me to my next point/s:
First alcohol consumption
First football game
First Ingrid Michaelson concert for free at borders (MUSIC!)
The conclusion to this entry might take you all by surprise. Given the organization of this email, and my thoughts and actions in general, one might be lead to believe completely to the contrary. HOWEVER, the results are in. The truth is out.
I, Abigail Stauffer, am A.D.D.
"I walked downtown today
I hoped that I could get away
from all the worries, filling up my head
I hoped to find some peace of mind
'cause I am falling far behind on everything
but this moment"
(song lyrics by Dave Harburg and myself)
Speaking of lyrics- I went to my first college party! Playing guitar. It was actually an under the sea party at the law quad, and I was not partaking of alcohol or party activities, but rather producing music that could not be heard by anyone at all due to ordinary party noises.
It brought about another set of lyrics:
"It doesn't matter who's listening
'cause I hear you, and you hear me"
(Bex and Abbie)
Far better when there's music involved, and lyrics, and when no one can hear you at all. You'd think I've been doing a lot of songwriting, wouldn't you. FALSE.
Which leads me to my next point/s:
First alcohol consumption
First football game
First Ingrid Michaelson concert for free at borders (MUSIC!)
The conclusion to this entry might take you all by surprise. Given the organization of this email, and my thoughts and actions in general, one might be lead to believe completely to the contrary. HOWEVER, the results are in. The truth is out.
I, Abigail Stauffer, am A.D.D.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
A double portion
This evening I found myself beside a familiar face. My red-bearded friend has been homeless for about a year now, and his job searching is not yielding much success in our glorious Michigan economy.
We chatted for a bit, but I am also learning how to enjoy silence. He's a quiet guy for the most part. The great thing about silence is that it allows even the quiet people a chance to speak what's on their mind. My friend had dinner on the mind. it was already 9:30 and I am sure that he must have been hungry, as he had missed his only opportunity for what he called "a meal hardly worth eating." I may think to myself that he shouldn't be picky- it's a free meal! But then I've never had to live that life. I am absolutely certain that I would complain.
I knew that he mentioned dinner for a reason, but I was not feeling very generous. In fact, I was thinking, "I don't go out to eat, why should I take him out?" But this is a half truth. I DO go out to eat. I just try not to. And though my money has only been going out of my pocket this summer, I am about to begin work again, my unlimited meal plan has begun and I have more work opportunities than one person could possibly take.
Grudgingly, I handed him five dollars. I thought about praying for him or something, but it seemed completely unnecessary. We hugged and went our separate ways. I was consoled as I recalled the verse:
"Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to him, 'Go, I wish you well; keep warm and well fed," but does nothing about his physical needs, what good is it?'" (James 2:16)
But the consolation had only begun. An hour later, I received this email:
Dear Abigail:
You have been selected for a brief online survey about college student mental health. We have sent a letter to your campus address with $10 and information about how to participate. The letter should arrive shortly, and we will also send a separate email in a couple days.
Please note that the online survey is formatted for the computer but not a handheld device, so we recommend using a computer. Participation is completely voluntary and confidential. As noted above, you will receive more information shortly. Your perspective as a RA would be very valuable. Thank you for considering this!
-Daniel
Thank you God for accepting my grudging offering, and for giving me a double portion.
We chatted for a bit, but I am also learning how to enjoy silence. He's a quiet guy for the most part. The great thing about silence is that it allows even the quiet people a chance to speak what's on their mind. My friend had dinner on the mind. it was already 9:30 and I am sure that he must have been hungry, as he had missed his only opportunity for what he called "a meal hardly worth eating." I may think to myself that he shouldn't be picky- it's a free meal! But then I've never had to live that life. I am absolutely certain that I would complain.
I knew that he mentioned dinner for a reason, but I was not feeling very generous. In fact, I was thinking, "I don't go out to eat, why should I take him out?" But this is a half truth. I DO go out to eat. I just try not to. And though my money has only been going out of my pocket this summer, I am about to begin work again, my unlimited meal plan has begun and I have more work opportunities than one person could possibly take.
Grudgingly, I handed him five dollars. I thought about praying for him or something, but it seemed completely unnecessary. We hugged and went our separate ways. I was consoled as I recalled the verse:
"Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to him, 'Go, I wish you well; keep warm and well fed," but does nothing about his physical needs, what good is it?'" (James 2:16)
But the consolation had only begun. An hour later, I received this email:
Dear Abigail:
You have been selected for a brief online survey about college student mental health. We have sent a letter to your campus address with $10 and information about how to participate. The letter should arrive shortly, and we will also send a separate email in a couple days.
Please note that the online survey is formatted for the computer but not a handheld device, so we recommend using a computer. Participation is completely voluntary and confidential. As noted above, you will receive more information shortly. Your perspective as a RA would be very valuable. Thank you for considering this!
-Daniel
Thank you God for accepting my grudging offering, and for giving me a double portion.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Life in transit
"It seems like I'm behind on everything but this moment."
I've been thinking a lot lately. Giving my brain a good workout. I'm processing... everything. Adjusting from life on Summer Missions, jumping back and forth between Ann Arbor and home and counting down the days before East Quad move in (t minus 11 days). I've been living out of my car for nearly a week, and today I am simultaneously unpacking and packing.
Music has returned to my life, or perhaps I have returned to music. Spontaneity is also here for the moment. I am wallowing in this freedom to go where the wind takes me. Somehow I find myself at the Washtenaw dairy in deep conversation, then kayaking down the river and chasing ducks, then getting my toenails painted by fellas. What I love the most is that there is time to be there for people. I can offer rides, help people move, sit and talk, teach guitar, say a prayer, or send a letter. I really want to make this a priority in life. I don't want to always be so busy that I can't be there for someone. Still, I am behind. I am wading through a swamp of unreplied emails and trying to excercise wisdom in WHO I teach guitar to, WHEN to sit and talk, and HOW OFTEN I go floating down the river. Even writing a blog post feels like a guilty pleasure that should be put off until I'm not so behind.
My friend Eduardo: Be where you are
My friend Andrew: Finish what you started
A Disney movie : Keep moving forward
Another Disney : Just keep swimming
"Let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith..."
Life in transit.
I've been thinking a lot lately. Giving my brain a good workout. I'm processing... everything. Adjusting from life on Summer Missions, jumping back and forth between Ann Arbor and home and counting down the days before East Quad move in (t minus 11 days). I've been living out of my car for nearly a week, and today I am simultaneously unpacking and packing.
Music has returned to my life, or perhaps I have returned to music. Spontaneity is also here for the moment. I am wallowing in this freedom to go where the wind takes me. Somehow I find myself at the Washtenaw dairy in deep conversation, then kayaking down the river and chasing ducks, then getting my toenails painted by fellas. What I love the most is that there is time to be there for people. I can offer rides, help people move, sit and talk, teach guitar, say a prayer, or send a letter. I really want to make this a priority in life. I don't want to always be so busy that I can't be there for someone. Still, I am behind. I am wading through a swamp of unreplied emails and trying to excercise wisdom in WHO I teach guitar to, WHEN to sit and talk, and HOW OFTEN I go floating down the river. Even writing a blog post feels like a guilty pleasure that should be put off until I'm not so behind.
My friend Eduardo: Be where you are
My friend Andrew: Finish what you started
A Disney movie : Keep moving forward
Another Disney : Just keep swimming
"Let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith..."
Life in transit.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Halfway through training
Do you ever put something off for so long that you can't bring yourself to do it?
Like writing someone a letter. Or finishing that project you meant to do a month ago. Or returning to church.
I'll confess, I still haven't finished that letter, and I've received 3 in the interim. What a jerk (me, that is). And I've put off/ forgotten about writing in a blog, posting pictures on facebook, posting songs on youtube, or sending any kind of update to the world about my existence for months now it seems.
Honestly, there is SO MUCH to say, but I am too tired right now to say it. I just wanted to jump one of those many hurdles, to overcome the activation energy and just post SOMETHING. Just something.
Synopsis:
Missions training is amazing. I am becoming a new person.
I had forgotten about the previous post, that I had written about desiring God above all else. Fortunately, I am truly growing in this area.
I am learning to cook, kind of.
I am forming new friendships left and right, and learning to be missional.
God is directing my paths. I am recovering my spontaneity. I never know what a day will bring, but I am certain that God is taking my availability and making much of it. Yesterday I went from slacklining with strangers to doing someone's dreadlocks to listening to a seminar about islam- none of them were planned in advance.
I am still afraid to write songs, but I'm getting in the habit of climbing over hinderances. I like climbing.
I have reconsidered the importance of obeying the law regarding climbing on buildings, playing in parks after dark, and jumping into rivers from railroad bridges. No absolute conclusions yet, but no illegal actions either.
I stay up too late and wake up wonderfully early.
I have unlimited texting. I love my brother.
I floss regularly.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Day #1: Missions Training
Day #1: Missions training
I will confess, I had nervous thoughts anticipating missions training. Early morning prayer, would I be late? And what about the fact that the morning between 8 and 10 is so beautiful, and we would be stuck inside of a basement with minimal light and an unexciting view?
Well, for today at least, I was awake. Not only that, but I was so blessed to go far beyond the basement. Pastor Andrew brought us to his favorite place in Ann Arbor. I was so pleased when we arrived. Obscure parking lot. Random trail. And then this glorious view:
This morning was so peaceful, and I felt so near to God in watching the mighty waters, the peaceful lake, the birds, the sun.... stillness and tumult living beside each other like neighbors. I could go on about today- frisbee and running, Ypsilanti evangelist and grocery shopping, being the frozen food fairy, eating Indian food, farewells to departing seniors, showing up places I don't even expect to find myself. Now I am at New Life. I am thankful for my unexpected life, and for this time in which God has chosen to leave me unemployed. It is a blessing.
Excerpt from my friend's prayer letter:
"I was challenged by the realization that sometimes God's answer to our prayers is not a tangible solution, but simply His presence."
"Serving God in Africa is sometimes my greatest desire, when really God Himself needs to be my greatest desire."
May God be my greatest desire. And yours as well.
*Photo Courtesy of John Blair, ganked from Flickr
I will confess, I had nervous thoughts anticipating missions training. Early morning prayer, would I be late? And what about the fact that the morning between 8 and 10 is so beautiful, and we would be stuck inside of a basement with minimal light and an unexciting view?
Well, for today at least, I was awake. Not only that, but I was so blessed to go far beyond the basement. Pastor Andrew brought us to his favorite place in Ann Arbor. I was so pleased when we arrived. Obscure parking lot. Random trail. And then this glorious view:
This morning was so peaceful, and I felt so near to God in watching the mighty waters, the peaceful lake, the birds, the sun.... stillness and tumult living beside each other like neighbors. I could go on about today- frisbee and running, Ypsilanti evangelist and grocery shopping, being the frozen food fairy, eating Indian food, farewells to departing seniors, showing up places I don't even expect to find myself. Now I am at New Life. I am thankful for my unexpected life, and for this time in which God has chosen to leave me unemployed. It is a blessing.Excerpt from my friend's prayer letter:
"I was challenged by the realization that sometimes God's answer to our prayers is not a tangible solution, but simply His presence."
"Serving God in Africa is sometimes my greatest desire, when really God Himself needs to be my greatest desire."
May God be my greatest desire. And yours as well.
*Photo Courtesy of John Blair, ganked from Flickr
Monday, April 27, 2009
Don't forget the lyrics
Spirit, Fall afresh on me
I have forgotten what it is to need
All the fitness He requires is to feel your need of Him
I won't need anything but You
So turn on the light and reveal all the glory
I was ashamed
Exposed beyond the shadows
You take the cup from me
Your dirt removes my blindness
Your pain becomes my peace
Oh the glory when He took our place
and we'll be like torches together
keep me burning til the break of day
Like joy was something you could touch
I wrap it around me
Like a blanket
It's just You, me and the moon
I want to skip like a stone from a stronger arm
I'm ready to give up the fight
cause I'm just a stone right after You're gone
[Sufjan Stevens-Casimir Pulaski day, Romulus; Anathallo-Genessaret; Mewithoutyou- Torches together; Blindside- Shekina, After You're Gone; Abigail Stauffer- Calamity; Traditional- Come Ye Sinners Heavy Laden; traditional- Give me oil in my lamp; Switchfoot- Spirit; Jennifer Knapp- Martyrs and Thieves; Jars of Clay- Frail]
I have forgotten what it is to need
All the fitness He requires is to feel your need of Him
I won't need anything but You
So turn on the light and reveal all the glory
I was ashamed
Exposed beyond the shadows
You take the cup from me
Your dirt removes my blindness
Your pain becomes my peace
Oh the glory when He took our place
and we'll be like torches together
keep me burning til the break of day
Like joy was something you could touch
I wrap it around me
Like a blanket
It's just You, me and the moon
I want to skip like a stone from a stronger arm
I'm ready to give up the fight
cause I'm just a stone right after You're gone
[Sufjan Stevens-Casimir Pulaski day, Romulus; Anathallo-Genessaret; Mewithoutyou- Torches together; Blindside- Shekina, After You're Gone; Abigail Stauffer- Calamity; Traditional- Come Ye Sinners Heavy Laden; traditional- Give me oil in my lamp; Switchfoot- Spirit; Jennifer Knapp- Martyrs and Thieves; Jars of Clay- Frail]
Friday, April 17, 2009
Sheltered
Walking home on a weekend 2 a.m. is always a bad choice. How do I forget this?
I like to think of myself as capable, independent, sufficient. It's not that I don't like to receive help, but I definitely don't like to ask for it. I always thought there was too much hoopla about walking girls home at night. Especially walking back to East Quad, I consider myself an exception from the "It's not safe" bracket. I mean, it's all public space, lit streets, cops on every corner, right?
Drunkenness, it seems, leads to unusual thought processes, and the voicing of these thoughts. I don't want to hear what they are thinking. Walking two blocks was like walking the gauntlet, between bars, between conversations, swerving to avoid sudden staggers, and trying my hardest to pretend I didn't hear when they were talking about me. Why were they talking about me when there are girls everywhere? Did I look too sober? Backpack, ugly sweatshirt, hurried steps. Why did he start to follow me? His attention span only lasted for a few seconds anyways and I was lost in the mob waiting in line for backroom pizza.
It was such a relief to see a few HMCC seniors outside of Pizza House. But even upon returning to my own room, I hadn't escaped the gauntlet. Curtains closed, light on, I was sitting on my bed to journal a bit. The sidewalk is not far from my ground floor window, and I could hear the conversations of passersby. I could hear as they stopped at my window. Noticed MY lamp in the window. Started shouting at ME. Someone came up and pounded on the glass, saying obnoxious and disgusting things through the screen. I felt like I couldn't move. From the sidewalk his friends shouted 'she probably just wants to read.' I guess my curtains don't do much. He left eventually.
I know my three older brothers are so protective. Some of my friends are too. It's a privilege to have that shelter, that protection. I'm not familiar with feeling unsafe. It's not that anything could have happened tonight, but I just longed for that shelter, for that person who could say "she's with me" so I could truly ignore whatever anyone else said.
"He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the LORD, "He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust"... He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart... You will not fear the terror of night... no harm will befall you, no disaster will come near your tent. For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways;" Psalm 19
Addendum: UM DPS Crime alert #4- last night a female student was sexually assaulted by the west hall arch, and again by cc little by the same guy. Dps says
* Look assertive and be aware of your surroundings.
* Walk with a trusted friend or co-worker when possible.
* Trust your intuition. If a particular situation makes you feel uncomfortable or unsafe, choose an alternative.
Don't worry don't worry, I will walk home with someone from now on. It's just a wake up call to myself and any ladies reading.
I like to think of myself as capable, independent, sufficient. It's not that I don't like to receive help, but I definitely don't like to ask for it. I always thought there was too much hoopla about walking girls home at night. Especially walking back to East Quad, I consider myself an exception from the "It's not safe" bracket. I mean, it's all public space, lit streets, cops on every corner, right?
Drunkenness, it seems, leads to unusual thought processes, and the voicing of these thoughts. I don't want to hear what they are thinking. Walking two blocks was like walking the gauntlet, between bars, between conversations, swerving to avoid sudden staggers, and trying my hardest to pretend I didn't hear when they were talking about me. Why were they talking about me when there are girls everywhere? Did I look too sober? Backpack, ugly sweatshirt, hurried steps. Why did he start to follow me? His attention span only lasted for a few seconds anyways and I was lost in the mob waiting in line for backroom pizza.
It was such a relief to see a few HMCC seniors outside of Pizza House. But even upon returning to my own room, I hadn't escaped the gauntlet. Curtains closed, light on, I was sitting on my bed to journal a bit. The sidewalk is not far from my ground floor window, and I could hear the conversations of passersby. I could hear as they stopped at my window. Noticed MY lamp in the window. Started shouting at ME. Someone came up and pounded on the glass, saying obnoxious and disgusting things through the screen. I felt like I couldn't move. From the sidewalk his friends shouted 'she probably just wants to read.' I guess my curtains don't do much. He left eventually.
I know my three older brothers are so protective. Some of my friends are too. It's a privilege to have that shelter, that protection. I'm not familiar with feeling unsafe. It's not that anything could have happened tonight, but I just longed for that shelter, for that person who could say "she's with me" so I could truly ignore whatever anyone else said.
"He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the LORD, "He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust"... He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart... You will not fear the terror of night... no harm will befall you, no disaster will come near your tent. For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways;" Psalm 19
Addendum: UM DPS Crime alert #4- last night a female student was sexually assaulted by the west hall arch, and again by cc little by the same guy. Dps says
* Look assertive and be aware of your surroundings.
* Walk with a trusted friend or co-worker when possible.
* Trust your intuition. If a particular situation makes you feel uncomfortable or unsafe, choose an alternative.
Don't worry don't worry, I will walk home with someone from now on. It's just a wake up call to myself and any ladies reading.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Where did the time go?
Every year brings unique opportunities. There are always a pile of friendships and relationships that will never be the same again. Maybe this is a phenomenon more specific to dorm life. Regardless, it's easy to find myself wishing I had another semester to be with the people I've met this year, and to reach out to them. Especially East quad residents. Some are moving out, some are transferring... time is short. Opportunities to reach out are like sand slipping through my fingers and some chances are already gone.
I just pray that God is able to use the opportunities I did not miss. Agh. I am so thankful that He pursues people for their entire lives, because I seem to be incapable of doing so for more than a few weeks. A few years at best.
I just pray that God is able to use the opportunities I did not miss. Agh. I am so thankful that He pursues people for their entire lives, because I seem to be incapable of doing so for more than a few weeks. A few years at best.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
The ties that bind
Lately I've been feeling tension. It's astounding how quietly it slips in, hardly noticeable at first, but then I am bound by it. Tension because of expectations. Relationships. Academics. Emotions. Insecurities. Authorities. Indecision. Anticipation. Insufficiency. Uncertainty.
I got an email from a professor about some obscure assignment. He emailed the attachment, and it looked like it was written in code. I could not understand it at all. He wrote again later:
Hey all,
Sorry, I've been sending the wrong msg to the wrong class,
ooooooooouchhhhhhhh, my bad. Disregard msgs to anything called "IBM"
Mark
When I got this email it was like one of the ropes snapped and tension released. I suddenly noticed just how many ropes were wrapped around me.
Ruth Lin always tells me about good tension and bad tension. This is the bad kind. The kind of tension that comes from self reliance and doubt. I know that my tendency is to wait for every single rope to snap, and for every situation to be resolved. And by then, there are so many more. Constant tension. But there is a better way.
"But the LORD is righteous; he has cut me free from the cords of the wicked." Psalm 129:4
"I'm in peace, I feel sweetly released from all that I couldn't let go." - Priscilla Ahn
I got an email from a professor about some obscure assignment. He emailed the attachment, and it looked like it was written in code. I could not understand it at all. He wrote again later:
Hey all,
Sorry, I've been sending the wrong msg to the wrong class,
ooooooooouchhhhhhhh, my bad. Disregard msgs to anything called "IBM"
Mark
When I got this email it was like one of the ropes snapped and tension released. I suddenly noticed just how many ropes were wrapped around me.
Ruth Lin always tells me about good tension and bad tension. This is the bad kind. The kind of tension that comes from self reliance and doubt. I know that my tendency is to wait for every single rope to snap, and for every situation to be resolved. And by then, there are so many more. Constant tension. But there is a better way.
"But the LORD is righteous; he has cut me free from the cords of the wicked." Psalm 129:4
"I'm in peace, I feel sweetly released from all that I couldn't let go." - Priscilla Ahn
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
I solve writers block by writing
I’m having a hard time writing this paper. So many things on my mind. Excitement. Regret. A splash of nostalgia. A pinch of longing. A plethora of peace tainted by apathy. I could (I do) fill up journals with my thoughts. I could (I do) write lengthy emails to my friends, my family, my hall, my life group. I could converse all day. But these three pages are slippery and elusive.
I love the feeling of sunlight through these windows, and the sounds of George Winston playing Korean Folk Songs.
A note to self (and anyone else who cares): Don’t try so hard to be someone you’re not. Don’t analyze so much what others are thinking of you. They’re probably not. They have a lot of things on their mind. With a few exceptions, most people are just longing for the same thing you are- for attention, acceptance, approval, validation, a hope and a future. Care for strangers like you care for your friends. Just because you don’t know their story doesn’t mean they don’t have one.
I'm ready to write a paper now.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Thunder comforts
It's been 2 semesters but I'm still not comfortable "documenting" students for drinking in the residence halls. It's uncomfortable for everyone involved. There are many people that I should have documented in the past but haven't, especially my own residents. It's hard to get your friends in trouble. But they don't really listen to friendly requests. "Please stop drinking? Please?" It just doesn't do the trick. Sometimes the most loving thing to do is to let someone experience the consequences of their actions.
I'm sure I could apply this to God somehow. It seems that for the most part I don't receive any of the consequences for sin that I deserve. But I know that God isn't thinking to himself "If I punish Abbie, she'll love me less. So I'll just let her do it her own way." That is not love.
So many questions. Why is getting drunk wrong? Why is the drinking age 21? How can I reach out to someone who I am punishing? What good does it do to tell a resident "please don't drink in the dorms" but then to say nothing about the fact that they're on their way to a frat party?
When I walked back into my room after writing up the incident, I heard the rain falling and thunder rolling through. I felt immediately comforted at the sound. There's something so amazing about thunder and lightning; visual and aural evidence of power beyond my reach and outside of my control. Kyrie Eleison.
I'm sure I could apply this to God somehow. It seems that for the most part I don't receive any of the consequences for sin that I deserve. But I know that God isn't thinking to himself "If I punish Abbie, she'll love me less. So I'll just let her do it her own way." That is not love.
So many questions. Why is getting drunk wrong? Why is the drinking age 21? How can I reach out to someone who I am punishing? What good does it do to tell a resident "please don't drink in the dorms" but then to say nothing about the fact that they're on their way to a frat party?
When I walked back into my room after writing up the incident, I heard the rain falling and thunder rolling through. I felt immediately comforted at the sound. There's something so amazing about thunder and lightning; visual and aural evidence of power beyond my reach and outside of my control. Kyrie Eleison.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
A 3 part compilation of thoughts and photos: the Florida Wedding edition. Batteries not included.
What a wedding. My first brother to get married. If I’m not mistaken, my family hasn’t vacationed together since my freshman year of high school when we used to go up North together. This wedding may not have been a typical vacation (it was quite busy), but it was so good to be together with my family, and for all of us to be momentarily removed from our ordinary stresses and tasks.
1. A new family
I’ve always thought about what it will be like to become part of another family someday when I get married, but I never really thought that I would be united with the families of my brothers’ spouses. This wedding/marriage has changed my mind about that. There were apprehensions of course. Coming from different parts of the U.S., different cultural histories, and ju
st... being the Stauffers, how would we be received? All I can say is that we were received with open arms. I have a whole new set of brothers, grandparents, friends, and MY FIRST SISTER! I think it really hit when Tereva’s Grandma said “I have a beautiful family!” and we realized she was talking about us. It’s hard to believe that I was with them for less than 24 hours. I guess I'll just have to take a trip to Miami :D
2. Travel Companions
I love traveling with my papa. I respect him so much. It amazes me to see how much a person can change, even long after college. It’s very encouraging. Traveling with Daddy and Joan brought about many deep conversations, spirtually, intelectually, story telling, etc. I learned so much just from listening. I was also humbled by the way my dad is willing to change and learn- even to learn from his own children. And when Joanie and I were crazy, singing or dancing or making a scene, he wasn’t embarrassed. He either smiled and watched or joined in.
3. Synergy
I really appreciated the synergy between Theresa, Joanie and I. It was great being with them and getting dressed up every day. I observed that rather than feeling insecure because of how stunning they looked, I felt beautiful by association. It was great to just be so relaxed and comfortable together that we’d be wrestling one moment, and all of us asleep the next. Whether we were making a big ruckus together or praying together during car rides, I always felt restored when I was around them, and as my dear friend Ruth Gao says, they made it “easier to be me.”
1. A new family
I’ve always thought about what it will be like to become part of another family someday when I get married, but I never really thought that I would be united with the families of my brothers’ spouses. This wedding/marriage has changed my mind about that. There were apprehensions of course. Coming from different parts of the U.S., different cultural histories, and ju
st... being the Stauffers, how would we be received? All I can say is that we were received with open arms. I have a whole new set of brothers, grandparents, friends, and MY FIRST SISTER! I think it really hit when Tereva’s Grandma said “I have a beautiful family!” and we realized she was talking about us. It’s hard to believe that I was with them for less than 24 hours. I guess I'll just have to take a trip to Miami :D
2. Travel Companions
I love traveling with my papa. I respect him so much. It amazes me to see how much a person can change, even long after college. It’s very encouraging. Traveling with Daddy and Joan brought about many deep conversations, spirtually, intelectually, story telling, etc. I learned so much just from listening. I was also humbled by the way my dad is willing to change and learn- even to learn from his own children. And when Joanie and I were crazy, singing or dancing or making a scene, he wasn’t embarrassed. He either smiled and watched or joined in.
3. Synergy
I really appreciated the synergy between Theresa, Joanie and I. It was great being with them and getting dressed up every day. I observed that rather than feeling insecure because of how stunning they looked, I felt beautiful by association. It was great to just be so relaxed and comfortable together that we’d be wrestling one moment, and all of us asleep the next. Whether we were making a big ruckus together or praying together during car rides, I always felt restored when I was around them, and as my dear friend Ruth Gao says, they made it “easier to be me.”
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Self reflection. Not quite 25 things.
I love change. Nothing excites me like a new opportunity, a new friend, a new perspective. I am hungry for intimacy. The problem with my love for new things is that it's hard to get to know someone really well when you're constantly jumping into more and more relationships and opportunities. "No" is not a word in my vocabulary.
I am a strange breed of pride and insecurity, stability and emotional rollercoaster, joy and somber reflection.
I love nature. I love the way the light seems to come from the ground instead of the sky on a cloudy day. When I feel wind, I feel God. When it rains, it takes a lot for me to not run outside and get soaked. My favorite switchfoot lyrics: "The stars are alive, they dance to the music of the deepest emotion, and all of the world is singing in time." I would rather go for a walk than sit in a coffee shop. I would rather worship God beside a river, on a hill, or up in a tree than inside of a building.
I don't know what I'm going to be 'when I grow up' but I know that I won't take any kind of standard route. I hope that I am never rich, or complacent.
I don't think I could marry a man if he wasn't: Adventurous, Affectionate, Missions minded, and Head over heels in love with Jesus
My personality is a product of my family, and I am so glad for it. I would not be as joyful, outgoing, free, feisty, creative, musical, strange, or comfortable if not for them. My family is so comfortable. I don't know if that makes sense to anyone else... yet I think it is the perfect word to describe them.
I am absentminded. I lose most things that I don't break. I break most things.
I am a work in progress. In my many moments of frustration (with myself), I turn to the one who began a good work in me, and lean on His promise that he will bring it unto completion.
My all time favorite song: The Lord made your butt, so praise him with it
I am a strange breed of pride and insecurity, stability and emotional rollercoaster, joy and somber reflection.
I love nature. I love the way the light seems to come from the ground instead of the sky on a cloudy day. When I feel wind, I feel God. When it rains, it takes a lot for me to not run outside and get soaked. My favorite switchfoot lyrics: "The stars are alive, they dance to the music of the deepest emotion, and all of the world is singing in time." I would rather go for a walk than sit in a coffee shop. I would rather worship God beside a river, on a hill, or up in a tree than inside of a building.
I don't know what I'm going to be 'when I grow up' but I know that I won't take any kind of standard route. I hope that I am never rich, or complacent.
I don't think I could marry a man if he wasn't: Adventurous, Affectionate, Missions minded, and Head over heels in love with Jesus
My personality is a product of my family, and I am so glad for it. I would not be as joyful, outgoing, free, feisty, creative, musical, strange, or comfortable if not for them. My family is so comfortable. I don't know if that makes sense to anyone else... yet I think it is the perfect word to describe them.
I am absentminded. I lose most things that I don't break. I break most things.
I am a work in progress. In my many moments of frustration (with myself), I turn to the one who began a good work in me, and lean on His promise that he will bring it unto completion.
My all time favorite song: The Lord made your butt, so praise him with it
Sunday, February 15, 2009
February
February and I have had a rough history. We've never really gotten along too well. I associate February with a monotonous landscape of grey clouds and grey sky. Weariness. Seasonal affective disorder. If winter were a watermelon, february would be the the rind. If winter were a bad week, February would be Wednesday... morning.
I am thankful that this year, February and I are actually getting along ok. All day today the sky has been blue. Right now, the sun is setting beautifully with colorful clouds and long shadows. I am thankful to be at home, even for just one afternoon, to enjoy my family. Valentines day was not "singles awareness day" it was "love day." I felt so loved. Somehow, in the process of celbrating birthdays lately, I have been on the receiving end! On Friday, my friend Brian made me Indian food for HIS birthday. Just now, my brother Johannes made me tea (we're celebrating his birthday today!). I am thankful for the relationships that continue to form in unexpected ways. Sometimes it's late at night in my dorm room, sometimes early in the morning in kerrytown. Sometimes it's out to dinner on mainstreet, sometimes it's casually studying at Pancheros. I am so grateful for the people in my life, quirky and wonderful, there to reveal so much of God's character to me just by being themselves.
Current struggle: Apathy
Current lesson: Wait upon the Lord. Be content with uncertainty
I am thankful that this year, February and I are actually getting along ok. All day today the sky has been blue. Right now, the sun is setting beautifully with colorful clouds and long shadows. I am thankful to be at home, even for just one afternoon, to enjoy my family. Valentines day was not "singles awareness day" it was "love day." I felt so loved. Somehow, in the process of celbrating birthdays lately, I have been on the receiving end! On Friday, my friend Brian made me Indian food for HIS birthday. Just now, my brother Johannes made me tea (we're celebrating his birthday today!). I am thankful for the relationships that continue to form in unexpected ways. Sometimes it's late at night in my dorm room, sometimes early in the morning in kerrytown. Sometimes it's out to dinner on mainstreet, sometimes it's casually studying at Pancheros. I am so grateful for the people in my life, quirky and wonderful, there to reveal so much of God's character to me just by being themselves.
Current struggle: Apathy
Current lesson: Wait upon the Lord. Be content with uncertainty
Saturday, January 31, 2009
What are you gonna be when you grow up?
So... I make music.
I'm not a professional. In fact, I still have no idea what I'm doing 90% of the time. But I know that God has given me a gift of creativity and musical ability, and I want to steward it as best as I can. People ask me sometimes "What are you going to do with your music?"
I guess my first dilemma is that I don't really feel that my role in the music is significant enough to call it "mine." If there is any song I have written that may have encouraged, spoken to, or touched someone, I know that it wasn't because of my ability, but because of God. Secondly... I have no idea what I can or should do. That's how I generally feel. I feel pretty inadequate and clueless, but I'm completely open to whatever God has in mind.
I think I tend to be too timid about it. I'm afraid of my own pride so I don't really do as much as I could. I want to use this gift CONFIDENTLY- For the glory of God. By hiding or pretending that I don't have a gift, I may be saving myself from the risk of inflated pride, but I'm also avoiding opportunities to announce, proclaim, declare the goodness of God through an avenue that people will actually listen to. They ignore street preachers (so do I). They avoid church. But they all listen to music. I know they do.
[Trying to be be confident in this without being prideful is like walking a tight rope while looking down.]
Today I read the last chapter of John. I loved it, especially the very last verse:
"Jesus did many other things as well. If every one of them were written down I suppose that even the whole world would not have room for the books that would be written."
I pray that 'my' songs can be like this: stories of what Jesus has done, and is doing. I pray that God can use this gift to open eyes, hearts, and minds, and to plant seeds there. Seeds of encouragement, healing, hope, faith, and TRUTH. I pray that God will use me, and these songs, to uproot discouragement, doubt, despair, and lies. And I pray most of all that whatever and wherever I sing, He would be the only one who is glorified.
http://www.myspace.com/abigailstauffer
I'm not a professional. In fact, I still have no idea what I'm doing 90% of the time. But I know that God has given me a gift of creativity and musical ability, and I want to steward it as best as I can. People ask me sometimes "What are you going to do with your music?"
I guess my first dilemma is that I don't really feel that my role in the music is significant enough to call it "mine." If there is any song I have written that may have encouraged, spoken to, or touched someone, I know that it wasn't because of my ability, but because of God. Secondly... I have no idea what I can or should do. That's how I generally feel. I feel pretty inadequate and clueless, but I'm completely open to whatever God has in mind.
I think I tend to be too timid about it. I'm afraid of my own pride so I don't really do as much as I could. I want to use this gift CONFIDENTLY- For the glory of God. By hiding or pretending that I don't have a gift, I may be saving myself from the risk of inflated pride, but I'm also avoiding opportunities to announce, proclaim, declare the goodness of God through an avenue that people will actually listen to. They ignore street preachers (so do I). They avoid church. But they all listen to music. I know they do.
[Trying to be be confident in this without being prideful is like walking a tight rope while looking down.]
Today I read the last chapter of John. I loved it, especially the very last verse:
"Jesus did many other things as well. If every one of them were written down I suppose that even the whole world would not have room for the books that would be written."
I pray that 'my' songs can be like this: stories of what Jesus has done, and is doing. I pray that God can use this gift to open eyes, hearts, and minds, and to plant seeds there. Seeds of encouragement, healing, hope, faith, and TRUTH. I pray that God will use me, and these songs, to uproot discouragement, doubt, despair, and lies. And I pray most of all that whatever and wherever I sing, He would be the only one who is glorified.
http://www.myspace.com/abigailstauffer
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