The Joy of Knowing

We are so intricately made that we don’t even know ourselves. How mind-boggling is that? We blink and suddenly we’ve changed… yet somehow we convince ourselves that we know and understand each other. That we know all there is to know about the friend we’ve known for three months or a year… or at least all that is worth knowing. Man. There are so many layers to every person I’ve ever met. How can I continue being content knowing people for four months and then moving on?

I want to settle into one place. One set of people. I want to spend years and years, the rest of my life really, focusing on knowing one set of people. And I don’t just want to know. I want to love. I don’t want to back away when I figure out that you’re not perfect. I want to embrace that imperfection because it is exactly the same imperfection I see in myself. We’re all walking around missing the mark and we’re all covering it up. I want to be with people who know my depravity. I want to live into the truth that I am corrupt, not because I want to be more corrupt but because I don’t think that corruption can be escaped until I admit it and I don’t think admitting it to myself carries nearly as much weight as allowing other people into my life to see me for who I really am.

I wasn’t made to run to God alone. I can sometimes convince myself that my relationship with God was meant to be a ‘me and God strolling through a quiet meadow’ type relationship. Then I mess up. And God uses someone else to turn me back in the right direction. God uses my friends, my acquaintances, my professors, even strangers to turn me around- to fill me up with hope. Only when I enter into the stampede of people running towards God do I ever seem to experience meadow-moments. I want this shared experience to be deepened by time. We are dreadfully wicked and delightfully liberated by the same God. With this knowledge, why would we not want to strive for greater knowledge of who we are- together? Simply put- let us endeavor to be friends.

Story Time (UB#9)

Story of the day: 

Sometimes a Ugandan guy will want your number.

Like. Really-really-really want your number. 

At first you wont want to give it to him. 

Then you really wont want to give it to him. 

Then he will give a 30 minute speech on how phone numbers represent relationships (because clearly you aren't friends until you are willing to share your number... but as soon as you share your number, then you are brother and sister... and also, sharing your Ugandan number will help you to remain in contact even when you go back to the United States... it all makes sense). 

Then you still will not want to give it to him. 

Then he will tell you that you seem like a very good person. 

Then you will cave and give him your number. 

Jokes. 

You will then decide that you should probably run away.

(but before you get a chance to run) He will tell you that not giving him your number is mis-representing white people and next time a white person asks for his number he will not give it. 

Then you laugh. And tell him how sad that is. 

Then your normal Ugandan friend rescues you.

The End.

(yes. this blog should disappoint you considering it comes directly 

after me telling you that I wanted this blog to be quality.)

Bllogoogoggging

This blog is about my blog. It is so easy to feel like I ‘should’ blog, like for some reason it is another obligation in my life. I put blogging on my to-do list, but I don’t think that is actually where it belongs. Let’s be honest, there aren’t very many people who read this blog, and I love the people who do, so why would I want to force them to read junk? I want this blog to be a place where I can share what I’m learning and not a place where I have to fabricate something so that people think I am learning. I don’t want to have a daily blog, or even a weekly blog, because I don’t want to blog just to blog. I'm sorry for the blogs I have posted that have been pointless. My goal from here on out is to only post blogs that actually help you to know more about what I am learning and experiencing… so if the blogging gets sparse, so be it.

When Leaving is Fashionable (UB#8)

I see a trend among my peers towards fixating on leaving home… we are confused when people do not have a plan to leave the place they grew up. There are so many issues leaving home has forced me to face that I wouldn’t take back… but I don’t think seeing more of the world will somehow make your life ‘better.’ It will probably force you to expand your mind and yes, travel will be a temporary escape from what might be eating you up, but you’re going to find more problems and then you’re going to go home to problems and you’re going to be carrying remnants of the problems you found along the way.  Those problems might be the fact that you have found out that your own worldview is not unquestionable or simply that in coming home you had to leave friends you love. Travel is not a cure to life’s problems and if I’m correct in thinking that that is how it is often portrayed something needs to change. We cannot go on lying to ourselves about how wonderful it is to travel. Being gone from home for a prolonged amount of time is incredibly difficult and sometimes even painful yet we continue to pass on the lie that it is all fun and games. It is easy to pass on funny stories about crazy places and unusual people-- it is harder to pass on the power of the emotions that will sometimes overwhelm you when you find yourself thousands of miles away from anyone that has known you longer than two months. We ache to be known by others. Leaving home means sacrificing the craving we have to experience love through being known. We should not go on trying to share the experience of leaving home if we are not willing to share both sides of the experience. It is lying when we are not willing to admit that our experiences away from home are not only positive.  

Rural Homestay (UB#7)

It is really difficult to know where to start writing about something that I haven’t even really begun to process. I spent the past week in rural Uganda. I stayed with a wonderful family, ate wonderful food (even if I never want to see another groundnut, peanut, or anything that in any way resembles either), and somehow I think my brain grew. I learned that a hut is a home, that making less than $2 a day does not mean you’re starving, and that I really don’t like ants/spiders/snakes/rats. I’m sure I’ll be blogging more in the next couple weeks, but for now, the thought of thinking about the past week makes me feel tired… so here is a poor quality video that is probably a better representation of the past week than anything I could say right now!

jokes. that video probs doesn't work. just gonna have to wait till the internet is stronger.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VXqtj36DqQs&feature=youtu.be

Compassion (UB#6)

This evening I watched 180° South with a friend. It was interesting to watch a documentary about adventure and then talk about adventures we’ve been on and want to go on, particularly in the context of talking about compassion in class. Since I became interested in hiking and traveling one of the dilemmas that has come up multiple times is the dilemma of whether or not these adventures are a good use of time and resources. I love a good day in the mountains, but if my time could be better spent elsewhere, what is the point of a day in the mountains? Compassion (a book we’re reading for class) talks a lot about relationships, this has prompted me to think about the relationships I have formed through adventure. In my experience adventures have created room for presence in a world that is not always open to presence. As part of one of my classes we read a book called Primal Vision. Primal Vision was basically a book about Christianity in African culture. One of the requirements of my class is that for every chapter and book we read we come up with a ‘takeaway’. Basically, a takeaway is a couple sentence summary that explains what we learned. Many of us found that our takeaway from this book was the importance of presence, the importance of simply being with people. Though the book is far to rich to sum up in a short quote, one of the things Taylor says is “The Christian, whoever he may be, has nothing to offer unless he offers to be present, really and totally present, really and totally in the present” (Taylor 136). Presence is the first step to compassion. In my experience, adventure has opened the door for presence and in turn compassion. I have had many a conversation about God while hiking with my coworkers. Those conversations would never have occurred with those people in the context of work, or even in our dorm. Being pushed to your limit mentally and physically in the context of grand adventures has helped me to learn more about my friends, not only through hearing their stories but through seeing the way they react to running out of food, or being hours away from the trailhead when the sun sets, or realizing that we didn’t bring enough water. Watching people watch beautiful sunsets and bask in the cool mist of a waterfall has not only grown my appreciation for sunsets and waterfalls, but for the creator of those things and in turn for my fellow appreciators of those things. Out of this appreciation compassion has come. Compassion for people whose stories are painful to the point that they don't even want to think about their pasts. When Jesus healed it was because he was moved with compassion, the miracles he performed revealed his solidarity with the suffering of humanity. The good news of Jesus is not found in the individual miracles he performed but in the fact that he suffered with us. Jesus, son of God, shared his presence with us. He relinquished his status as son of God. This was an act of compassion. If we are called to compassion (which I think we can probably all agree we are) then we are called to presence. True presence requires willingness to take on suffering. It requires that we carry other people’s darkest secrets. Full presence is in itself a form of compassion. For this reason, I will not abandon adventure. Adventure has allowed me to be to be present in the lives of so many people. If I really think that presence is the first step to compassion then adventure is something I cannot abandon until it ceases to provide this opportunity.