Worth the Journey

I was just starting to wonder if the long trip was really worth it -- travelling for several days, getting up at the crack of dawn to catch a train, feeling exhausted... and then I got to Jaffna, where I used to live. It's been a whirlwind of reunions since. Definitely worth the journey. The best part has been seeing some of the eighteen girls from the girls home where I used to spend a lot of time. They're like little sisters to me, and now they are all grown up. Many of them were from difficult backgrounds and faced a lot of discrimination. When I first came, we barely managed to communicate with each other. Now, some have finished college and are teachers and social workers, and helping to improve their communities. Some are finishing high school, and are doing really well -- playing on the school sports teams, on the school counsel, and just sweet, beautiful, spunky young women. Some are married now and have kids -- which makes me feel really old!

We spent a wonderful day together, going on an adventure around the Jaffna peninsula to Kashurina beach; to a sacred Buddhist site, a famous Hindu temple and a unique little Catholic shrine -- all of which used to be in the high security zone during the war and off-limits to civilians; and on a really amazing boat ride in a fishing boat, in the village where one of the girls lives. About fourteen of us climbed into this long, narrow wooden boat, squealing as it rocked back and forth so much that we were sure we were going to tip over. Luckily, the water was only 2 or 3 feet deep! We sailed out a long ways - it felt like we were at the far ends of the earth. Then, the two fishermen in the boat used poles to push us all the way back to the shore. It was a really magical experience.

And that was just the beginning -- the past week has been full of amazing, colorful, unforgettable moments with old friends exploring this incredible place. So much has changed here since I left, so much new construction and development, and in many ways life is much easier and more convenient. The roads are better, there's much more access to the internet, nice restaurants, even resort hotels -- things you wouldn't have imagined 9 years ago. I have lots of stories and pictures I will share later. For now, poyitu varein -- I will go and come. Off to explore and visit some more!

I didn't expect to feel culture shock. Not coming back to a country that was home for two years, and that I've visited a couple of times since. But things work differently here. Walking down the street, people stare at you as a single foreign woman. I'm in a different position, too. I'm not the missionary on a visit to the capitol, staying with Sri Lankan friends. I'm a tourist, in a hotel, coming back after a long time away, to a country that has spent the last 5-6 years living into it's tentative, new found peace after decades of civil war. There's a fancy new expressway from the airport into town. There are new crosswalks with crossing signals that people actually use to cross the busy main road, instead of playing a real-life game of frogger. Mainly, the sights are still familiar. But now I feel out of place.

What made me feel more at home was connecting with people again. And food. I felt better after I went to visit my two Aunties I used to stay with when I was in town. We caught up on the gossip, and ate hoppers (yum!). The next morning, I went to church and saw more familiar faces, and sang familiar hymns (well, tried my best to sing along in Tamil), and ate my favorite thosai and sambal at fellowship time after worship. This afternoon, I had lunch with one of my favorite families, who beautifully blend Sri Lankan and Western (Polish\Canadian) culture and practice generous hospitality. It is people who make a place feel like home, and sharing food together that really draws people together. Eat. Pray. Love. Off to a good start. Oh, and I did run a bit in the hotel fitness center this morning, too. It had a great view, but no air conditioning.

As I think about how we welcome people to our country back in the U.S., it reminds me how important relationships are. It takes more than a job and housing and health insurance to start life in a new place. It takes connection to people who make you feel at home.

Eat, Pray, Love, Run

One of the great moments of a long trip is sitting down on the airplane and knowing that for the next few hours, all you can do is just sit there and relax. All the packing, planning, organizing, errand-running that have led to this moment have to be left behind.

The last few weeks have felt like a whirlwind of activity, with Christmas, getting things organized at church, and preparing the details of the trips that lie ahead. The last few years have been a whirlwind of activity - St. Paul's is a busy and exciting place, nearly all the time. I like to by busy and active, and have trouble sitting still for long. But I am ready to remember how to be still for awhile.

Today, as I waited impatiently in line at Target, trying to check off one more item from a long pre-trip to-do list, I remembered how often I had to wait for things when I lived in Sri Lanka. Lines were often long, travel was often slow and filled with check-points, programs rarely started on time, and life just moved at a different pace. I got used to waiting patiently. It became part of the rhythm of life. So, it seems fitting that I'll begin my sabbatical with a trip to Sri Lanka.

Though it's not especially original, I've decided to sub-title my sabbatical journey, "Eat, Pray, Love, Run." I'm looking forward to eating my way through all kinds of cuisines in the next few months. I'm already dreaming about the delicious curries, fruits and other foods I've missed from Sri Lanka, so I want to be really conscious of slowing down and savoring them when I eat.

Traveling is usually when I do my best journaling and reflecting, since there are so many interesting new sights and experiences to process. So, the next few months should provide some great opportunities for conversations with God, looking and listening for new insights. I hope to make plenty of time for prayer, especially the kind where I stop telling God everything I'm thinking and let God take over the conversation.

As I spend time with old friends, and hopefully make some new ones, I want to be really present with the people I meet and let them into my heart, to experience the joy of connection that goes beyond culture and language. I want to be generous with my time and attention and affection.

And I also want to continue to feel healthy and strong, and do lots of hiking and running. Even though that is the exact opposite of literally being still, those are activities that quiet my mind. I hope as I run over the next few months (including my 2nd half marathon!), I can focus on being present and aware of what my body is doing, rather than on how fast or far I'm going.

I'm so grateful to have this time to live life at a different pace. Though the schedule will still be busy, it will be filled with a different kind of activity, and - hopefully - I will approach it all with a different attitude and spirit. Instead of rushing through in order to get it done, I can be in the moment. Especially that moment tomorrow when I board the plane!

A New Name

Community is important, and helps you know who you are, and to be more fully who you want to be. The community at St. Paul’s Christian Church has been working on legally changing the names of fifteen Montagnard refugees who are part of the church, so they can claim the family names they were denied in Vietnam. There was a lot of paperwork involved – forms, copies of IDs and greencards, signatures and stamps. The day we went to the Wake County Courthouse and the new names became official was a milestone, but it didn’t feel really special or meaningful. When it was all done, Ni asked if that was really it – he expected some questions, or a swearing-in, or something more ceremonious than being handed a piece of paper.

What was really powerful, though, was this past Sunday morning when we had a Name Blessing service at the church. Each person’s new name was said aloud as we drew a cross on their forehead with water – a combination of an anointing and a baptism, since there are no models for an adult christening service.  The whole community gave thanks for each person named and prayed, “May our God, who knows your name, bless you and guide you.” Scriptures were read in both Jarai and English, and Jum and Tuat gave beautiful, heartfelt prayers of thanksgiving that they had written themselves.

It was especially powerful to hear Nip speak about why this meant so much to her. Here’s part of her speech:

As a human it is important to have a family name, so we know where we belong. It’s important to everyone and it’s important to my family too. What does it feel like when you do not have a family name, but instead, just “male” and “female”? Montagnard people in many places of Vietnam are still carrying it. An “A” for is male and “Y” is for female, which has been given by the Vietnamese. When many Montagnards are here in America, they find each other and try to unite. It is a pleasure that we finally officially, legally carry our family name. When we have our family name we can find other people from our village. This is a huge change for us. We now can look up as we walk forward in this new life.

Praying beside my Montagnard friends, I felt like I was exactly where I belong – in a community of people from different countries, backgrounds and cultures who work together and know each others’ names and stories. These are the people who shape me on my journey through life. I become more fully who I want to be when my Montagnard neighbors remind me of the importance of family and faith, and remind me that with courage and a caring community around us, we can overcome any challenge.

Love & Marriage

6 Place me like a seal over your heart,
like a seal on your arm;
for love is as strong as death,
its jealousy unyielding as the grave.
It burns like blazing fire,
like a mighty flame.
7 Many waters cannot quench love;
rivers cannot sweep it away.
If one were to give
all the wealth of one’s house for love,
it would be utterly scorned. (Song of Songs 8:6-7)*


I have always imagined that one day, I will get married.

Even through countless uninspiring dates, the challenges of telling potential dates that I am a minister, and offers of an arranged marriage from friends in Sri Lanka with eligible cousins or brothers (or “cousin-brothers”)**, I have not given up hope that one day I will meet the right person, the person I want to make a commitment to emotionally, spiritually, financially, and legally. As frustrating as the search has been, and continues to be, I have the assurance of knowing that once I do fall in love and am ready to commit, I have that option. That is an option that could soon be permanently taken away from many of my friends in North Carolina.

Amendment One, which will be on the ballot May 8, would make marriage between a man and a woman the only legally recognized union in the state according to the constitution. Anyone who dreams of building a life with a partner of the same gender would be denied the legal, financial and civil benefits that come with state-sanctioned marriage.

If passed, this amendment would not stop anyone from falling in love. Same-sex couples will go on caring for one another, making faithful covenants to share their lives, and building futures together, just without the same rights and recognition as straight North Carolinians. Amendment advocates who push the “slippery slope” argument – that if we allow gay marriage, then the definition of marriage will somehow become less sacred – should know that the law cannot quench love. As a Christian, I believe that love is one of the most powerful forces that exists. As the church prepares to celebrate Easter, I am reminded that the love and faithfulness of Jesus was stronger than all the forces of the Roman Empire, stronger than the disapproval of the religious authorities of his time, stronger than the voices of the majority who urged their leaders to silence his teachings, stronger even than death.

Amendment One may take away the civil rights associated with marriage from our gay and lesbian neighbors, but it will not stop them from making the emotional and spiritual commitments that lie at the heart of a faithful covenant. And it is this non-legal aspect of a covenant relationship that, to me, truly defines marriage. Ironically, the pro-amendment push to define marriage, in order to protect the institution itself, may actually serve to present marriage as more about government recognition than about loving commitment. Legal rights are important, and meaningful, but they are not what define healthy, life-giving relationship. They are not what I dream about as I psych myself up to go on yet another first date, hoping to find a deep connection with another person.

For my friends of all genders, of all sexual orientations, of all the diverse types of family configurations and household types, I plan to vote against Amendment One.

For all residents of NC whose love defies a single definition and whose hopes and dreams and relationships are every bit as valid and important as my own, I plan to vote against Amendment One.

For all my lesbian sisters who have supported and listened to me through my dating ups and downs, who have cried and laughed with me through disappointing first dates and heartbreaks and ridiculous crushes (even as I’ve done the same with them), I plan to vote against Amendment One.

For all the couples – both gay and straight – who have been my role models of what a meaningful committed relationship should be, I plan to vote against Amendment One on May 8.



*Listen to Julie Lee’s beautiful song, Many Waters, based on this scripture: http://www.myspace.com/stillhouseroad/music/songs/many-waters-featuring-alison-krauss-142295

**In Sri Lanka, the term cousin-brothers /cousin-sisters is used for the children of two same-gender siblings (the children of two sisters or two brothers), as opposed to “cousins,” which are the children of a sister and a brother.

The Dog Ate My Lenten Devotional

It's true...my roommate's dog actually ate my lenten devotional book. I guess he was really hungry for some inspiration. Either that, or he was trying to get the taste of wallpaper glue out of his mouth, since he also recently ate a chunk of wallpaper off the wall. I was planning to remove it anyways eventually, so he just got it started for me.

I actually didn't miss the devotional book that much either...I was about a week behind in the daily readings anyways, and I could get another one from church if I wanted.

Lent seems like an especially good time to contemplate what we hang on to, salvage or protect in our lives, and what we are willing to let go of, throw out or leave behind. In a recent conversation with some women at church (the fabulous Mary Circle!) several people mentioned that they had been trying to de-clutter their houses, and how difficult it was. One inspirational 90-year-old church member has been diligently cleaning out the house where she has lived for decades, in order to move into an independent living facility. Life seems to lead us to collect so much stuff that goes along with our memories and experiences, our relationships and our dreams...and not only the physical accumulation of clothes, books, photos, etc., but the emotional and spiritual collection of ideas, beliefs, places we love, people who have impacted us in some way...grudges and crushes, heroes and hopes, expectations and disappointments.

Is there a way to let go of the clutter in our hearts that keeps us from being fully present in the present? I don't know, but maybe the first step is letting go of that chewed up Lenten devotional book and instead of the time I would have spent reading it, I can spend some time reflecting on what else needs to go...

Grace & Other Unintended Lessons

Well, clearly my intention of doing a daily blog post for Lent has not happened! But what a good way to be reminded of what a gift it is to receive grace. This is a new benefit to practicing Lenten Disciplines that I had't really thought about before -- that when we aren't quite as disciplined as we meant to be, that we are reminded anew of God's mercy and forgiveness -- which we can never earn anyways through our own actions.

I don't think God really cares one way or the other whether I type out my thoughts every day -- what matters to God (in my humble opinion, anyways) is that I make the effort to live out my faith in meaningful ways (through prayer, writing, worship, acts of compassion, practicing spiritual disciplines, etc....).

God also doesn't really care that I have also given up meat for Lent...because faith is not about being deprived or suffering. In fact, I didn't give up seafood, so it turns out that I've actually been eating BETTER than usual - lots more shrimp, salmon, etc. than my usual diet. But, every time I go to order from a restaurant menu or plan what to cook for dinner, I do pause and remember that my options are slightly different from usual; several extra times a day I remember that it is the season of Lent, and I think about God just a little bit more often because I am eating differently. So, while going semi-vegetarian is not the deprevation I might have intended at first, it has still drawn me a little bit closer to God.

It makes me smile to think that God has a well-tuned sense of humor, and likes to throw surprises at us. Just when we think we are going to do something holy and righteous, God gives us a good laugh at ourselves to keep us humble and looking to God for wisdom. Just when we think that we are going to impress God with our discipline and good works, God impresses us with grace and love we do not deserve.