8:31 AM, 22 July, 2009: Dehli India

 

 

Much of my first day in Dehli was spent in constant movement. First I awoke at 5 AM after falling asleep at 1:30 AM. Then at about 8 I headed over to the Real Life house with two of my housemates. There we met up with the groups headed to different churches. Travis, the Sixty-1 host, and I went by motorcycle to Asha House, the orphanage, for church. At one point I looked over Travis' shoulder and saw that we were going 100 kph. My first reaction was terror, having never ridden on the back of a bike, but then sudden adrenaline rose from the risky situation and I couldn't have been happier.

 

At the Asha house I experienced the prayers of the orphans. Even across the bounds of language you could hear the heart and passion coming from the lips of the children. The children were bowing beneath the throne of their king, and he was smiling down on them. It was a beautiful image.

 

Once church was finished, Travis, Drew and I played a couple of games of cricket with the Indians. It turns out cricket is a big deal in a few countries in the world, i.e. India, Pakistan, South Africa, Sri Lanka, Australia, England, etc – thank you colonization. I'm still not sure who won or lost though.

 

The rest of the day I spent bonding with the Real Life team and my housemates. At the Sixty-1 house we had one member leave last night, Ashley. Now we're down to three members. It is Travis, Jaime, and myself. We're all very different people, but I cannot wait to see how God uses us during out times here.

 

In the meantime, I need to get through a few chapters of Indian history and eat breakfast. I miss you all dearly, and I hope all is well back home!

 

I'll post pictures soon.

It took me 24+ hours to do it, but I have officially arrived in New Dehli, India! It's dark outside, so there isn't too much to describe. I am sure the slums will be full of color in the morning... which I should start preparing for (I have church at the orphanage). I thought I would go ahead and let you know what I ended up bringing with me. I took a picture before I left home, and it turns out I still left things behind. Oh well, I guess I will deal with my American entitlement issues. In the meantime, here's the picture:

 

 

I'll speak more eloquently in my next post. For now, I'm exhausted.

(An Audience Listening to Sufjan Stevens Speak)

 

"You are so young; you stand before beginnings. I would like to beg of you, as well as I can, to have patience with everything that remains unsolved in your heart. Try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books written in a foreign language. Do not now look for the answers. They cannot be given to you because you could not live them. It is a question of experiencing everything. At present you need to live the question. Perhaps you will gradually, without even noticing it, find yourself experiencing the answer, some distant day..." Letters to a Young Poet: by Ranier Maria Rilke

 

This I believe, the question is far more valuable than the answer. 

"It is Doubt (so often experienced initially as weakness) that changes things. When a man feels unsteady, when he falters, when hard-won knowledge evaporates before his eyes, he's on the verge of growth. The subtle or violent reconciliation of the outer person and the inner core often seems at first like a mistake, like you've gone the wrong way and you're lost. But this is just emotion longing for the familiar. Life happens when the tectonic power of your speechless soul breaks through the dead habits of the mind. Doubt is nothing less than an opportunity to reenter the present." 

 

- Excerpt from John Patrick Stanley's preface for his play Doubt

   

 

World-Roaming Teen-Ager Sails On by Robin Lee Graham

National Geographic, April 1969

 

"I wasn't very eager to resume my single-handed sailing around the world. I'm never eager to go back to the sea and the awful loneliness and exhaustion a singlehander has to face..."

 

 

"We'd changed, both boat and boy, since we sailed into [port] in 1967, beat up and battered. Dove had been transformed and strengthened. So had I. You could see the changes in Dove. I looked about the same as ever, but I ‘d changed too. I wasn't a loner any more. I'd sail singlehanded to my journey's end, but my single life was over."

 

 

"She was traveling around the world too, stopping off here and there to work for a while and meet people."

 

 

 

I met Maggie the day her Mother and Step-Father dropped her off on our doorstep with a bicycle and duffel bag. She was clad with dreaded hair, yellow jeans and a soccer jersey – little concern to the common trend. Preconceived notions would have shouted, "Rebel!" But upon getting to know the humble, wise soul, which presided in Maggie, I quickly learned the rebel had run away years prior, and the wanderer had found a happy hovel.

 

"Man-oh-man," Maggie has taught me a substantial amount about community, inter-dependence, walking in obedience, adhering to authority and the voice of the Lord, commitment, and probably most important (which I'm sure she's hardly aware of) how to be honest. Most interesting, it is funny how intertwined our visions of community are, especially since we are all here to learn what it means. Just this past weekend we wound up holding hands with thirty or forty individuals of various backgrounds, beliefs, denominations and religions around a bonfire after beating on drums and chanting the melody of our heart. All belief set aside through love, we each could worship in our own way and trust that our neighbor wouldn't judge how awkward we looked, swinging our arms around like baboons. Part of community is like entering the dining room for dinner, setting aside presuppositions and taking part in the passing of satisfaction. "Man-oh-man, I had a good night."

 

Like I said, Maggie is a wanderer. It's part of her journey. And despite that inclination, she is able to keep the communities she is apart of alive and thriving, whether that community is in Zion, IL or Spain. What's next for Maggie? She is searching for that same answer as we speak, but truthfully, what good is that answer? We already know. Maggie will be traveling, not singlehanded, but with her community around the world, stopping here and there to work and love and meet people.

 

"But each day was like the next. Loneliness began to take hold of me like a pain that wouldn't go away. I fought it every way I could. You have to, or it will drive you crazy. It's slow torture, not like the sharp stab of fear a bad storm brings. But I think it's worse."

 

Thank you for all you have taught me, friend. Robin Lee Graham may have sailed around the world singlehanded, but I drove to Gainesville, GA and back learning how to navigate this world without ever being tortured by loneliness. I came to Gainesville expecting to leave with a warm fuzzy and a few tears in parting. Instead I have grown up a bit and learned how dangerous it is to travel singlehanded. Heck, who would yell, "Man overboard!" if I fell out?

 

I can't wait to see where your sails set your course. I am excited to be a part of it.

 

P.S. You need to practice your harmonica.

Jane and I were having solstice, now we need a place to stay."
And her Christ-loving uncle watched his wife hang Mary on a tree
He watched his son hang candy canes all made with red dye number three
He told his niece, "It's Christmas eve, I know our life is not your style."
She said, "Christmas is like Solstice, and we miss you and it's been awhile."

So the Christians and the Pagans sat together at the table
Finding faith and common ground the best that they were able
And just before the meal was served, hands were held and prayers were said
Sending hope for peace on earth to all their gods and goddesses

The food was great, the tree plugged in, the meal had gone without a hitch
Till Timmy turned to Amber and said, "Is it true that you're a witch?"
His mom jumped up and said, "The pies are burning," and she hit the kitchen
And it was Jane who spoke, she said, "It's true, your cousin's not a Christian,"
"But we love trees, we love the snow, the friends we have, the world we share,
And you find magic from your God, and we find magic everywhere."

So the Christians and the Pagans sat together at the table
Finding faith and common ground the best that they were able
And where does magic come from, I think magic's in the learning
Cause now when Christians sit with Pagans only pumpkin pies are burning

When Amber tried to do the dishes, her aunt said, "Really, no, don't bother."
Amber's uncle saw how Amber looked like Tim and like her father
He thought about his brother, how they hadn't spoken in a year
He thought he'd call him up and say, "It's Christmas and your daughter's here."
He thought of fathers, sons and brothers, saw his own son tug his sleeve, saying
"Can I be a Pagan?" Dad said, "We'll discuss it when they leave,"

So the Christians and the Pagans sat together at the table
Finding faith and common ground the best that they were able
Lighting trees in darkness, learning new ways from the old and

Well first I'd like to fall asleep. It's almost four and I am still wide awake. Thank you insomnia. But when I do fall asleep I would like to wake up in my sleeping bag to a room full of sleeping bags -- sleeping bags filled with my closest friends. That would be ideal, but if I wake up and it's just me and Jesus, that's okay too. I like Jesus.

This passage, predominantly the first section, is a memory -- posters scattered throughout my timeline in various classrooms (TN, MO, OH, The Like), scattered so abundantly it is almost an annoyance to read. As much of a shame as it is, I struggle to read Corinthinans without the bitter taste in my mind. I am a fan of innocence, and only through the grace given by Yahweh have I been able to innocently look at chapter thirteen. In essence, the depth brought through each verse sturms a chord resonating with a place hidden in the core of my optimism. "Love is simple. Love is all."

 

Occasionally I think of Yahweh as arrogant or pompous. However, when I examine a passage as honest as this I cannot help but face the truth of how humble my Parent is. When Yahweh says "I am love," it isn't overbearing. He is not stealing away the feeling we have. YHWH is simply stating his character -- inviting us to take part. When we discover what love is, we understand YHWH.

 

I am part of a body of Jesus followers. We believe in love, and the word is tossed about frequently. Do we understand what it means to love one another though? Do I have patience with the arms and legs? Am I rude to the eyes and nose? Am I still recording the record of the tongue? I certainly don't protect, trust, or perservere. Dangit, I'm not living in love.

 

"Yahweh, I would like to walk in the love you are." This has been my prayer. I am going ot be focusing on this for the next month, really examining a tangible way to love my community. I'll let you all know how it goes. Pray for me though -- Love may not be as easy as saying "I love you" (though I am quite good at that).

 

See you in a few days!

 

Breaking through means something different for each of us. That's a hard lesson I had to learn, and something I'm still trying to learn as I move forward. Layers of skin have been peeled away these past few weeks. I've been cut for the better, and bruised for the worse -- some self-inflicted, others the pains of the Body. Nonetheless I've learned to grow.

 

Several months ago Community Life underwent the Adventures in Missions conference Break-Thru. Reflecting back upon this time I vaguely remember even sitting in the chairs, let alone the names of the speakers I listened to. So one would think I have little to offer as a memoir to my time spent in my emancipation. But as I have pondered on the experience I realized to this day I am still taking the essential value of that Break-Thru and applying it.

 

Yahweh broke me of a root in my life that weekend, one I have yet to fully let go of. I can see YHWH lifting high the rotten root high in victory and me still attempting to dangle to the loose, dirty hairs on the end. Isn't that ironic, YHWH wins for me, but I won't let it be?

That root, it's stupid really. I belived for the longest time that my relationship with Yahweh had to look the same as my brother or sister. Laugh, really, it's okay. I'm laughing too. My entire facade was based on what others thought when they saw me worshipping my saviour. It was certainly illogical. Darn legalism.

 

That weekend I let go of it, and to be honest I think it upset a few people. But my act of worship was going to look different that Sunday. Instead of walking into the conference I sat in my car a listened to a friend cry over the phone. She waw drowning a bit, not knowing what her future held, not understanding how to live without the love she had experienced from community that summer, not knowing how to move forward. All I did was listen. Yahweh told me to. I did. That was worship.

 

I am still breaking free today. No longer in the area of worship -- in much more complex ways, identity and such (that's for a different blog though).