the beauty of what could be
The perks of
teaching abroad feel like, to me, the world’s wildest and best-kept secret.
Sometimes other foreign teachers/friends and I stare blankly at one another and
ask questions like, “How in the world do more people not do this?” And then we
*facepalm* in silent unison and move on to another topic, like we’re mid-scene
in a sitcom or something.
The final weeks
of my two month (paid – #chinaforthewin #amiright #humblebrag) winter break whirled
to a close and the spring semester and my 25th year of life hit the
ground at the same time and it’s been a nonstop Chinese fire drill ever since.
I spent my
winter break traveling because the heaters turn off for two months and everyone
has at least one chronic addiction they have
to feed, so into the sky I flew – first to Thailand to visit my
sistahfromanothermistah Katie and then to Hainan, a southern island province of
China to teach at an English drama camp.
Thailand has
Gayle, the magical fruit smoothie lady and my little ALH siblings, who are all
world-changing, gospel-proclaiming, break-dancing rock stars – Thailand has
dewberry cookies and the clearest blue-green ocean and kids clubs and a
mountain crawling with the freakiest red-eyed monkeys I have ever seen.
Thailand has Bin, the most adorable, jean-ironing, non-English speaking Thai
tutor OF ALL TIME and Thailand has an (epic) Trek team and mango sticky rice
and Ricky and Karen and the ice men on the corner.
I was only there
for two and a half weeks and it was difficult to leave because I wasn’t leaving
a place, I was leaving people – and not just people, but family. Because family
is exactly what you are when the ties that bind are deeper than language and
culture and the latest song with the sickest beat. Family is what you are when
you are eternally bound by the ties Jesus has gifted to us through his life,
death and resurrection.
I don’t know how
Katie will be able to leave Thailand and the people after almost a full year of
doing life among and beside. She says she doesn’t know either. And for purely
selfish reasons, of course, I hope she never finds out. It is incredibly
convenient to have a best friend who continues to pitch her tent in awesome places.
I don’t have to think long about where I will travel next.
Recently I
listened to a sermon based out of the book of James that got me thinking. The
pastor explained that one of the main reasons why James is writing to the
church is because there were temptations and circumstances working against the
church that were threatening its people not to hear the word of the Lord and do
it. They were losing the vision of their
identity and destiny and consequently missing an opportunity for their present
circumstances to transform their character.
I love what Beau
Hughes says:
“In
order for people’s character to be truly changed and transformed, especially in
the midst of temptation, trial, and grappling with our indwelling sin, what we
need is a vision, picture, a narrative of where our life is headed. If we don’t
have a picture, vision, or a narrative of who we are and where God is taking
us, then we will struggle. We will fall. We will drift. We will not finish the
race. What James knows as he is writing this book is this: what changes and
motivates people, what actually transforms character is beauty. You need a
vision of what could be.”
WOOF.
I forget too easily
that God is taking me somewhere. In the chaos of daily life and the never
ending to-do list, it is difficult to remember that God is trying to tell me the
narrative of who I am in light of who He is. The truth in this sermon did a seat-drop
on my soul. I was pancake(d) all over that holy trampoline.
I know I talk a
lot about learning Chinese and how hard Chinese is and blah blah blah. But here’s
the deal: learning Chinese is EVERYTHING. And to be completely honest, I am
actually very surprised that I am taking it as seriously as I am (which is not
as serious as I should, but still).
So, all that to
say: The Lord knew my motivational steam was running low in regards to studying
Chinese, so through Thailand and Karen’s epic bilingualness, God reminded and
encouraged and recast the vision of what could be and where I’m headed.
As Karen talked with Thai people, I watched her like a shameless, one-move-away-from-a-restraining-order candy man creeper. God gave me a glimpse of the fruit I’m working toward as I stumble through tones and new vocabulary and language barrier frustrations and Chinese characters omgosh.
As Karen talked with Thai people, I watched her like a shameless, one-move-away-from-a-restraining-order candy man creeper. God gave me a glimpse of the fruit I’m working toward as I stumble through tones and new vocabulary and language barrier frustrations and Chinese characters omgosh.
I often need to
remind myself that the goal is not the language itself but the relationships
that can and will be had through the
language. And the more Chinese friends I
make, the more I desire to communicate with them in their native language – the
more I want to study and practice and struggle on because there are testimonies
of God’s faithfulness to be heard and friendships to be formed and new food to
be tried and/or avoided.
I’m discovering that
this work is a directional thing – it’s going somewhere, toward something, for a
greater purpose than my near-sighted eyes can see from where I’m standing (or
studying, in this case). And perhaps the
same could be said about a Jesus-following life: even in a broken world, I
believe God is willing to graciously give us a glimpse of the what could be – because when we see that, our hearts cling all the more to the what will be.
Winter will be
spring.
Night will be morning.
Faith will be sight.
Night will be morning.
Faith will be sight.
Everything God
has called us to on this earth is intentional and purposeful: it is going
somewhere, toward something, and is fulfilling a greater purpose than what we see
from where we’re standing. It is deeper, wider, higher, longer.
So, when Chinese is
all like: “YEAH, RIGHT”, I need to hear Karen speak Thai LIKE A BOSS.
And when winter is all like: “ARCTIC TUNDRA FOREVER”, I need to remember that spring is what could and will be.
And when winter is all like: “ARCTIC TUNDRA FOREVER”, I need to remember that spring is what could and will be.
When my eyes
glaze over and my hearing goes bad, I need the narrative.
I need the vision.
I need the beauty of what could be - because the what could be changes everything.
I need the vision.
I need the beauty of what could be - because the what could be changes everything.
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