Post-Op Update

Just wanted to give you a quick update on “fitting in” at that wedding this weekend: it went okay.

Let me give you an example. I spent quite a bit of time with the wife, fiancee and girlfriend of guys in the wedding (that's 3 DIFFERENT guys, just FYI), and they were very nice, kind women who did their best to take care of me and bring me into their little circle, but I think it was at least a little obvious that we won’t be best friends. For instance, I was riding with the three of them to the reception and we were discussing one bridesmaid who had missed the wedding because she was taking a med school test. Apparently, however, her very wealthy boyfriend flew her into town in his private jet, and she got her hair done on the plane en route (by a professional hairdresser, I’d assume.) The wife said, “Oh, if that was me, I’d feel like a movie star.” The fiancee said, “I’d feel like a princess.” I said, “I’d feel HORRIBLE! I mean, I’d be thinking, ‘There are starving children in the world and I’m flying in a PRIVATE PLANE?!’ ” And then. . .there was silence. Awkward silence. And I wondered why I had opened my big mouth at all. At least I was able to keep my views on George Bush and the war to myself.

But let me say again how much I appreciated the kindness of everyone I met; they all accepted me warmly into their group (and one even complimented me on my dress, but I do have to admit that I think I looked good). Um, yeah, so back to my appreciation. . .no one had to be kind to me or even talk to me, but everyone did. And I appreciated it. Even if they wouldn’t have felt horrible flying in a private jet.

(And the people who I knew would have felt horrible didn’t really seem to be glad that I’m home. I’m kinda feeling stuck between two communities, and neither one seems accessible at this moment. That sucks.)

May Newsletter

“If you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any fellowship with the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and purpose. Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves.”~Philippians 2:1-3


Hello again! Here it is, once more, the piece of paper you wait for all month. . .MY UPDATE!

I had a wonderful adventure a few weeks ago as I spent some time with four other women from Mission Year. We passed one of our Sabbaths on a beach, just sitting and talking about ourselves, our lives and our experiences here, and it was one of the most fulfilling experiences I have had since I got to Oakland.

As I reflected on this encounter, the aforementioned scripture from Philippians came to mind. It occurred to me that the five of us in our small group were all “like-minded,” which was one of the reasons we had such a marvelous time together and why we could talk as freely and comfortably as we did.

It also occurred to me that we did not spend our time together fleshing out how we feel about deep theological issues (or basic ones, for that matter), but instead spoke of our struggle to live this life we’ve been given in a Christlike way. I don’t know how those women feel about liturgy, intercessory prayer, sanctification, speaking in tongues, worship or even how one acquires salvation. But amazingly, those things did not matter. It mattered much more that we share many of the same struggles and love each other deeply enough to care what happens in each others’ lives. It could be defined, in a way, as community.

A few days following this wonderful experience I had one of a much different kind. I read the document called A Christian Affirmation 2005 (www.christianaffirmation.org), which had been signed by “24 teachers in Churches of Christ in North America” who want to clear up some things about where their denomination is headed.

This document dealt with issues such as worship, a cappella singing, baptism, “The First Century Church” and the Lord’s Supper and came to the conclusion that unity would come if we only completely agreed about them all. I disagree, as does Leroy Garrett, whose response is posted on Mike Cope’s blog (http://mikecope.blogspot.com/2005/05/by-now-many-of-you-have-read-christian.html).

(Here’s the part of my newsletter where I get excommunicated and the Church of Christ Mafia gets sent after me.)

Some issues are important to unity in the church, but I’m betting that most are not. It seems that too often, issues divide instead of unite us. No, I think we will find unity when we elevate love for each other over issues or getting everything right. Perhaps some Church of Christ wants to use instruments. So what? Can’t those who do not still fellowship with them, knowing that they are striving toward the same purpose by struggling to live the way Christ would have His people live in this world?

Unity doesn’t mean agreeing all the time. Neither does it mean blindly accepting everything that other people throw our way. We can have unity and disagree and debate and use the minds God gave us to interpret the Scriptures he provided us with, as well. Wasn’t it Jesus who said that “. . .all men will know you are my disciples, if you love one another”? (John 13:35) Not “if you all agree on a cappella music.” Nor “if you pattern yourselves after the First Century Church.” And if all men know we are His disciples, can’t we bet on Jesus recognizing us, too?

So perhaps instead of issues, let’s try love. Can’t we all just get along?


(I hope that those of you non-Church-of-Christers who receive my newsletter will nevertheless find something useful in what I had to say here. Surely we can all stand to focus on love instead of issues. And I hope no one thinks that my program here has brought all these thoughts on me; I have felt this way since long before I arrived in Oakland. This, is, however, is the first time that I’ve had an opportunity to tell it to such a wide audience!)


Things are still going just fine here. I continue to wash feet and work in the first grade. The love of the kids at school never ceases to amaze me; it seems almost unconditional, in a way, and for that I am thankful. I can only pray that I am doing as much for them as they are for me.

As far as fundraising is concerned, my team is currently at 83% of our combined goal. I know much of this comes from your generosity, so thank you!

When the Church of Christ Mafia comes to get me (and you KNOW they exist, you’ve seen them in action) tell them to find me at (my email address) or (my mailing address). And please feel free to find me there, too!

Operation Ghetto-Fabulous

I am looking forward to the wedding I'm going to in Albuquerque this weekend; it'll be nice to get out of California. (I mean, come on, have these people never heard of air conditioning?!)

I am a little worried, however, about dressing up for the wedding itself. I have spent the better part of a year in the inner city, and I don't remember the last time I tried to look good. I mean, I get up in the morning, wash my hair (sometimes) and pull it into a ponytail, pull on some dirty jeans and a T-shirt and am mostly ready for the day. (Oh, yeah, and I have to lather up with sunscreen before I leave the house to trek my daily two miles, so I guess that is a further step on my beauty regimen, and one I won't miss at all next year.)

And I know this is part of my own very special brand of neurosis, but for some reason I'm afraid that the people at this wedding (very few of whom I know very well/at all) will take one look at me and know I'm a fake. They'll know I don't belong in that dress and FABULOUS high-heels. They'll just know, somehow, that I belong back in the inner city in my T-shirts and jeans, and have no place at a nice function like that.

See? I knew it wouldn't make sense to you. Maybe it's like going to a big, rich suburban church after attending a small, poor inner-city one and feeling like the rich Christians will know that you don't belong, that you fit in much better at your tiny inner-city getup.

Maybe it is just my first glimpse of freedom from my banishment in Oakland, and I'm finding it hard to adjust. I knew I'd be changed this year, I just didn't know it would be in THIS weird way! I hope I come out better on the other side of this year, but I'm not really sure that I will. Sometimes I don't even recognize myself. But that's another post. . .

This morning as I was walking to catch the train to the clinic, I passed a disheveled-looking woman. She had streaks of makeup all over her face, wore random articles of clothing and had two mismatched house shoes on her feet. As she turned and spoke to me, I could see that she was missing the majority of her teeth, and the ones she did have were pretty discolored.

" 'Scuse me," she said, "Could you spare some change? I'm really hungry."

"I don't give out money," I said, "but I could buy you something to eat." So we walked to a little cafe and I found out her name is Cathy and that she's been homeless about a week.

"It's kicking my butt," she said. I wondered if she had been prostituting herself at night to make a little money, but I didn't really have the time (or the huevos) to ask.

At the cafe she ordered a beignet and some coffee and I helped her choose a cherry danish. As we waited for all her food and I said I was paying, the young lady behind the counter asked if I knew her (meaning Cathy).

"I do now," I said.

"So you just met her outside?" she asked.

I nodded.

"And you're buying her food? Oh wow," she said, and smiled really big at me.

I had to go right then, though, to be sure I'd catch my train. So I told Cathy that I had to get to work and ran off to the station.

"Bye, have a great day!" the lady behind the counter said.

And as I rode the train I wondered why the lady behind the counter should have been so surprised and awed by the fact that I bought Cathy some breakfast. Why was that such a surprise? Shouldn't that be the norm?

With all the "Christians" in this world, why doesn't that happen more often? Makes me think of a story I read in a book I stole from the shelter, Evensong:

Chief Drowning Bear (c. 1759-1839), who held his people firm to the old Cherokee religion in these mountains, once allowed a Christian missionary to read several chapters of the Bible to him. After the missionary had finished, Drowning Bear remarked thoughtfully, "It seems to be a good book--strange that the white people are not better, after having had it so long."

Isn't it, though?

Booooored

So here I am, stuck in the apartment on a Sunday night. I guess I could read, but I'm tired of that. And I daydreamed through most of church this morning, so I've pretty much exhausted those possibilities as well. Can't really rent a movie to play on the laptop 'cause one of my roommates objects to movie-watching in the house (and because that's about a mile walk round-trip, and who wants to do that?).

I'm trying to replay my week in my head so I can report if anything interesting happened. Let's see. . .I did get permission to go to a wedding in Albuquerque on Memorial Day weekend. I'm excited about that because it will give me a break from my life here AND because it has given me an excuse to buy a new dress. Phyllis, the head nurse at the clinic, has offered to shut it down one day the week after next and take Ruth and me shopping for something FAAABULOUS. I'm pretty sure that it's going to be a group project to get me ready for this; one of my roommates will have to trim my hair, I'm betting one will need to lend me jewelry, and who knows how the shoe situation will work out? Since this is appearing to be such a big affair, I have termed it "Operation Ghetto-Fabulous." (See how bored I am? I wasn't kidding!)

Ruth and I have decided to walk around the lake once a week (that's about a three-mile walk). We started this past Thursday, and I figured out that I walked over five miles that day! I was pretty proud of myself. We spent a great deal of that time talking about her new flame back in Australia. She has apparently known him for a while and he is recently single, so they've started talking. All the time. Pretty seriously. She's way past smitten, and has now entered in the phase we like to call "In Deep Smit."
As we rode the subway home she asked if she had been talking about him too much. I told her no, that I liked to hear about it, and when she got annoying she could count on me to let her know.
She said, "Yeah, but I feel bad."
"Why?" I asked.
"Well," she said, "I'd feel better if we were talking about your love life, too. I mean, I know that this is what you need, but I'd like it if it was more of a CONVERSATION."
I laughed, and explained to her�-once again�-that this time of an "emtpy love life" is what I've needed, what I prayed for. Granted, it's not always what I want, but it is teaching me to place my self-worth in more capable hands than those of the guys I know (no offense, guys).
I am proud, though, that I have reached another first in my life: had somebody tell me they were BORED with my love life. They used to be yelling at me to just settle down. You just never know what's gonna happen here in crazy ol' California.

Another first that hit me over the head this week had to do with one of my roommates. Not this past Friday but the one before that the director of our program asked me to sit down with him and one of my roommates and discuss how we might "communicate better." (She has regular meetings with him and other team members in the city, and he thought it was a good idea based on some "things she had said" in those meetings. Which makes me a bit uncomfortable--what has been said about me when I'm not around?) Well, I agreed to the meeting, even though I don't really care how we communicate at this point in the year. I mean, we've got three months left, and it has become quite clear that she and I don't really "click," so I just figured things in our relationship would continue to be the way they had been since we moved in together.
So this past Wednesday I met with her and him and the assistant director to talk things out. We talked a lot about Meyers-Briggs (I am a Thinker and she is a Feeler) and how that influenced our communication. It just so happens that the director, Josh, is a Thinker and the assistant director, Kim, is a Feeler, so they both had a lot of things to say. A lot of them dealt with how I could relate to her as a Feeler better. (They had a few things to say to her, too, I guess.)
I must admit that the meeting didn't go as badly as I thought it would (I was TOTALLY freaked out the night before) but I came away from it feeling incredibly emotionally retarded. It just seemed like I had no feelings, would never be able to communicate with people who HAVE feelings, need to learn a new way to talk to people, can never be myself or say the first thing that pops into my head, etc.
I figured out, though, that my problem is not relating to Feelers; in fact, many of my friends are feelers! It is relating to this particular roommate that is the problem. (And I do realize that she herself bears some of the responsibility in that, especially if she gets passive-agressive or won't 'fess up to feeling offended or misunderstood.) My Mom and Ruth helped a lot in this realization. (When I wrote an email to my Mom about how I was feeling after the meeting, she said, "I can attest to the fact that you are not now, nor have you ever been, emotionally retarded." Awww, I love her!)
So I'll let you know how well the meeting actually worked; we'll see.

Alright, I have wasted about 30 minutes now, so I'm feeling good and ready to try reading again. I'd love to hear what's going on in your lives. . .love-related or not.