reality

So, I went back to the Refugee Center yesterday morning after a 45 min. taxi ride (the cab driver took us on a Chinese fire drill or something because the ride only took 20 min last weekend). I'm really glad we went back though. The subject matter for the adult ESL class was conjunctions, and even though I majored in Professional Writing, it had been a while since I'd studied the ins and outs of that part of speech. When we broke up into small groups to work on understanding the lesson, I noticed a girl who looked pretty frustrated with the worksheet. I asked if she needed help and she looked relieved to see someone interested in helping her navigate through the nonsensical maze we call English grammar. By the grace of God, I was able to reach back into the abyss of my memory to explain why, how and when we use conjunctions. The young woman's name is Velissa, she's from The Congo, and she's 15. (I was certain that she was at least my age, but she's only a teenager.) I don't know the rest of her story and why exactly she fled from The Congo and ended up in Bangkok - I wasn't quite sure how to ask those questions, but I saw the gratitude in her face for the simple act of helping her with an English lesson. Wow. Can you imagine having to leave your home and stay indefinitely in an entirely new place? Can you imagine the frustration of trying to learn a language in order to get by with more ease? I certainly can't.

I'm glad that I found out about the Bangkok Refugee Center. I want to keep going back because I need to gain a new perspective on life. Not only would I like to lend a hand to people who are going through the pains of displacement, but I would also like to learn a bit more about this huge world I am living in and the plights of many who are also just trying to get by.




I want to share with you a little bit about myself that isn't the easiest to broadcast, but I feel the need to open up because I think it's imperative if I ever want to get past some of the roadblocks in my mind and life.



Lately, I've felt so directionless. I don't know what I will be doing come March when I return to the States. I don't know if I'm supposed to go to grad school. I don't know where I'll live, what my friends will be up to, or when I'll feel grounded again. I mentioned this in my last post, but I don't know what I'm truly passionate about. I've tried so hard my whole life to just be a good person. I rarely got into trouble, and I wanted so desperately to be known as the sweet girl who exuded grace and joy. For most of my life, I've put on a smile so as to make others think that everything is rosy at all times. I didn't see much wrong with this way of living until college when it became exhausting to put on a mask everyday. I've also always wanted to please others. I wanted so badly to be well-liked that I'd say or do almost anything. I created a tangled mess for myself. I began to live in the bondage of masking my true feelings and desires for the sake of feeling accepted by those around me. Now...I'm starting to see the ramifications of living in such a way, and in the pursuit of perfection, I would get SO very mad at myself when I messed up or when I didn't make the mark or reach the high self-imposed standards.

I've been recently convicted that this ridiculous pursuit of perfection is really rooted in pride. I've always thought that I was a really good person because of all of the bad things that I chose not to do, but in putting so much effort into doing good and acting like my life was a walk in the park, I began to not only fool those around me, but I also began to fool myself into thinking that I was innately good. In the moments that I would become frustrated with myself for missing the mark of perfection, I would then turn to God for help and would ask him to help me be better and to get through whatever trial was nagging at me at the time. But then I would see myself experiencing the same struggles over and over again and I would wonder why I had to turn to God so much. If I was innately good and did my best to live a perfect life, why did I find myself running back to God so very much? I began to get mad at myself for needing God - and this is when I realized that I had been living with an extremely tainted approach to life.

The Bible says that all are sinners and fall short of the glory of God. It claims that we are like sheep, gone astray, and in desperate need of the blood and love of Christ. I've heard these truths my entire life and have believed them ever since I gave my life to Christ when I was a little girl, but I have rarely truly felt the need for a savior. I've always tried to be good enough on my own and it wasn't until I failed that I'd come running to God for help. What a prideful and destructive way to live! I'm beginning to see that not only am I imperfect, but I am also innately bad. Although I've tried tirelessly and endlessly to put on this act of being a peppy, happy and an exceptional human being, I am beginning to see that it was in vain. No matter how many smiles I have plastered to my face and how many acts of goodness I have done for others to see, I am still human. I am bound by flesh and there is no way for me to earn salvation or reach perfection with my own two hands.

I've felt bogged down for the past few weeks. I've even questioned my motives for volunteering at the Refugee Center - and I have to admit, I've felt pretty proud telling people that I've spent my last couple of weekends doing volunteer service. Yet again, I have been reminded of the flesh that I so obviously wear. I think I'm coming face to face with the realization that I truly do need at savior. I no longer want to put on an act for others - I don't want my daily motives and decisions to be based on pride. I pray that God would show me the areas in my life where I have let pride run rampant and that I would be convicted and repent.

I hope this post doesn't burden you with too much my of internal quests and recent realizations; rather, I pray that my mistakes would be a testament to God's grace. The Bible also says that Christ's grace is sufficient. I do believe that it is sufficient for me and for all mankind. He created us knowing that we would be in dire need of a savior. He knew that I would struggle with the things that I do, and knew that you would struggle with the things that you do, too. He wants us to come to him when we're on the glorious mountaintops of life and when we're in the dark valleys, as well as everywhere in between. I pray that God would use my story for our good and for his glory. I'm glad that my eyes have been opened to the reality of how I've lived for so long. I pray that I would not dwell on the past and get stuck in a cycle of beating myself up for being imperfect, but would instead move on in the grace that has been extended to me and be a witness to those I meet. Maybe in moving on I will find a passion or two to pour my energy and time into, after all, I no longer have any desire to spend all of my time and energy putting on an act.

shouldn't life come with a script?

Hey All!

I'm not yet a blogger pro - for some reason, I feel like every post has to be some long, detailed account of notable happenings, but I'm going to try and post more frequent, shorter posts and see how that goes :)

Anyways, life over here has been kind of hard as of late. I've hit the three month marker and am really missing little things about home. I miss the mountains, clean fresh air, New Mexican food, being able to drive, my buddies, and just feeling comfortable. I think the getting up at 6:00 A.M. and not getting home until 6:00 P.M. each day is starting to take a toll. It's a far cry from my lax college schedule of rising leisurely at 9:30 or 10:00 to catch my 11:00 class, and returning home no later than 3:00 - oh the joys of being an undergrad. I guess those days are over! As far as teaching goes, I've had some awesome breakthrough moments with some of my classes, where I feel like my students are getting the subject matter and are really enjoying it, but I've also had several moments of just wanting to rip my hair out and catch a plane back to the States. Although, the funny thing is, I have NO IDEA what I would do if I were back in the States, which has been the root of some additional stress lately. What am I going to do with my life?? If I'm truly honest with myself (and you) one of the reasons I'm over here is because I thought that living abroad would offer me some sort of new perspective and would stir within me some sort of new passion, which would lead to some epiphany concerning the career path I should take. Well, I'm sorry to report that no such epiphany has been had - in fact, I find myself just trying to get through each day without going crazy from telling my kindergarteners to stop trying to stick their hands up my skirt, or to stop wrestling with each other in class.

Whew! Deep breath...I guess I'm getting a little dramatic, but really, I'm in a bit of a rough patch. In a recent conversation with my dad, I realized that I don't really have any passions right now. Growing up, I always had my plate full with things like soccer practice, choir practice, church activities, and school. Then in college, I gave the majority of my extra time to my sorority, which kept me more than a little occupied, but now, I feel, dare I say - directionless. I've always been told that many people in their early twenties feel this way: uncertain about the future, a bit lost, and alone, but I guess I didn't anticipate these feelings to be present during my year abroad.

I know I've turned this post into somewhat of a pity fest, but I do have a tinge of productive and interesting news to share with you. In a motion to find something, anything to be passionate about, I visited a refugee center last Saturday morning. Since I've been so introspective and pretty much self-centered lately, my mom encouraged me to get out there and pour my time and energy into others' lives. I showed up with a few friends and jumped right in wherever help was needed. I ended up working with several adult refugees from Sri Lanka. We did an activity to help them broaden their everyday English vocabulary, and as I was using ridiculous amounts of hand motions in a charade-like manner and stuttering through my sub-par explanations of vocab words like airport terminal, customs, profit and source, I realized how very hard life for a refugee must be. Seeing their determination to grasp words and concepts in a very difficult second language in order to ease their daily struggles, really showed me the pettiness of my daily complaints and discomforts. I don't yet know the stories behind the people I met last Saturday. I don't know why they had to flee from their homelands, nor am I capable of even imagining the frustration and uncertainty a refugee must face each day, and because I don't yet know these things, I can't wait to go back. I hope to build relationships with some of the people I met last weekend, and I hope to be an encouragement to them. I suspect they will have much to teach me as well. Maybe a passion for people has been lying dormant....time will tell.