Chipotle Peppers and Other Conundrums

How are you supposed to store all the leftover chipotle peppers once you open up a can and only use three?

While the peppers went in a soup that is simmering, I decided to use up some random bits in my fridge and make this yummy quiche (yes, it’s crustless.  I don’t particularly like crust, especially not the soggy kind). I think I should get nutritional (brownie?) points for managing to work kale into 3 of my last 4 meals:-)

Why does it always seem like there’s some big major life decision hanging over me?  Does everyone feel this way?  It is my cultural bent to be more productive and have more stuff and see more and do more and just more more more that makes me feel as though I’ve always got to figure out the next thing RIGHT NOW?  Or is it just my admittedly sin-screwed nature of wanting to know it all that won’t let me rest?  Or a painful collision of the two?

In any case, I’m trying to figure out how to rest in what I’ve been given here, in Dallas, TX, USA while still being intentional about engaging in the future I believe He has for me internationally.  Part of this has meant reading, soaking in the wisdom of others.  Here are a few books I’ve read, am reading, or ordered from Amazon already because I’m an overachiever.

Nomad

The Hole in our Gospel

A Severe Mercy

Mother Teresa

What are you reading and cooking??

planning the wrong wedding

It’s far too easy to lose perspective, to be so overwhelmed by the struggles, tasks, sorrows, jobs, plans, decisions, etc, etc that fill our days.  I long to instead to press on with my mind set on things eternal.  Everything else “grows strangely dim” when viewed from that reality.

When we arrive at eternity’s shore
Where death is just a memory and tears are no more
We’ll enter in as the wedding bells ring
Your bride will come together and we’ll sing
You’re beautiful

-phil wickham

waiting for perfection?

Subconsciously I think that’s why I don’t write much these days.  Because it’s not perfect.  Life is hard.  And somewhere that I haven’t found yet there is a balance between “woe is me” pity and quiet acceptance that suffering is real in all of our lives.  I pray for the quiet acceptance, and even the joy born of being transformed and pried away from all the things I cling to for security.

One of the sweet things these last few months has been the ability to READ again, and I’m not talking textbooks and journal articles here.  I’m reading Nine Parts of Desire: The Hidden World of Islamic Women (Author Geraldine Brooks) today, and realizing, ashamed, yet again, that my world is so small.  I recently finished Radical: Taking Back Your Faith from the American Dream (Author David Platt).  I think I underlined half the book.  Really.  I’d heard all the hype about the audio series and book, and I don’t really like fads (I thought I hated 3/4 sleeves shirts when they came out too.  Turns out I like them.  I don’t, however, think you will every catch me in skinny jeans).  But, seriously, I think if you live the West, and especially in the USA, you should read this book.  It’s true, convicting, enlightening.  We live insulated, self-protecting, self-exalting lives, and we like to pass it off as good and moral and Christian while there is a world dying for food and the Bread of life.  And it’s wrong.  I’ve SEEN that world, and I still struggle with this.  It’s a battle for our souls, this pull of money and status and career and security.  I want my treasure to be elsewhere.  It’s not going to just happen, though.  We have to go to war for it.  Which brings me back to point a, of not feeling “ready”, perfected, equipped for the battle.  Lies again.  Oh for courage to stand up again, to persevere on!

Dallas, Africa, Dallas, Haiti

Friends, I’m still alive.  Which means God is still sustaining!  Now that I’ve finished grad school and am about to settle into what I hope is a bit more of a stable season in life, I want to be intentional about re-connecting with many of you.  For the next few months at least, I will be staying in Dallas.  I’ve accepted an NP job at the clinic where I’ve been working in staff education and admin for the past year.

By way of a brief catch-up, I spent 5 wonderful, hard, challenging, encouraging weeks in Ethiopia and Sierra Leone this spring alongside a team from Baylor.

Baylor Africa 2010, Langano, Ethiopia Clinic

We saw many hundreds of patients, we were challenged to use skills not often tested in school, we held dying patients, we wished we could do so much more–but through it all we saw the compassion of the Father.  If you want to catch up a bit on that trip, check out this blog written primarily by our wonderful professor, mentor, and team leader http://homepages.baylor.edu/lori_spies/?cat=718

Baylor Africa 2010 Team at Faith Hope Orphanage in Freetown, Sierra Leone

VERY rural clinic outside of Freetown, Sierra Leone

Post-Africa, I spent a whirlwind month and half in Dallas trying to finish up all of the necessary coursework and clinical hours to graduate.  Graduation alongside dear friends and classmates was a joy—but it was a bit anticlimactic as we all had to then start studying for national boards.

Graduating with the other musketeers--Ivorry, Jamie, and Rebecca. Could not have done it without them!

I took mine in mid-June and passed (thank you Lord!).  Since then I’ve been working part-time at two jobs, my dear friend in NM got married, and I’ve reveled in evenings not constrained by papers being due!

A few weeks ago, I got an email from an friend who had served on a short-term team to Ethiopia while I was living and working there.  She was headed to Haiti with her church from the Baltimore area and their team needed a last minute provider to fill an unexpected gap.  It was a crazy time to make such a decision amidst a wedding, being out of state, starting a new job, etc–but He confirmed that it was right, so I said yes.  I bought a ticket and 9 days later flew out to Haiti to join the team.  Link to this blog to catch up on our time there: http://www.gcchaiti.blogspot.com/

I got back from Haiti late last night (or early this morning) and am trying to recover from exhaustion, a GI bug, sunburn, and very dirty laundry!  It was such a privilege to serve alongside such a wonderful, grace-focused team.  Haiti was, as expected, hard–so much devastation, disease, and despair.  We pray for the peace of that place.

So that’s me.  Alive, blessed, and happy for filled pages in my passport:-)

perspective

Hark the herald angels sing
“Glory to the newborn King!
Peace on earth and mercy mild
God and sinners reconciled”
Joyful, all ye nations rise
Join the triumph of the skies
With the angelic host proclaim:
“Christ is born in Bethlehem”
Hark! The herald angels sing
“Glory to the newborn King!”
–Charles Wesley

Happy New Year!  May this year be one in which we strive for this true reconciliation and eternal peace.

Words

My words have been spent these long last months in papers and charts and tests and in the trapped places of my mind where I don’t know how to think and process and face the world we live in.
So I am reading and listening to and repeating the words of others, hoping that in small ways I may gain a measure of perspective, of motivation, of passion, of energy, of wisdom, of knowledge, of understanding, of eternal value through the experiences of others.  My life right now is far too full of things that can easily be seen as only temporal—I sit in class, I study, I write papers, I go to work, I see patients, I give out prescriptions, I (occasionally) wash my dishes, I go running.  I am learning why, so often, men and women of God have cried out for Him to “Renew the joy of [their] salvation” and to be freed from the entanglements that keep them from running to toward the one true prize.

There is always the danger that we may just do the work for the sake of the work. This is where the respect and the love and the devotion come in – that we do it to God, to Christ, and that’s why we try to do it as beautifully as possible.
Mother Teresa

I do not pray for success, I ask for faithfulness.
Mother Teresa

As judgment is God’s justice confronting moral inequity, so mercy is the goodness of God confronting human suffering and guilt . . . It is human misery and sin that call forth the divine mercy.
A.W. Tozer, in The Knowledge of the Holy

I’m re-reading (for the umpteenth time) the novel Christy, by Catherine Marshall (if all you ever saw was the TV version and you haven’t read the book, then, well, you should just read the book).  I’m finding a lot of wisdom in the struggle written about in that book, even if half of it was a figment of the author’s mind. Words such as this: “’ . . . evil is real—and powerful.  It has to be fought, not explained away, not fled.  And God is against evil all the way.  So each of us have to decide where we stand, how we’re going to live our lives.  We can try to persuade ourselves that evil doesn’t exist; live for ourselves and wink at evil.  We can say that it isn’t so bad after all, maybe even try to call it fun by clothing it in silks and velvets.  We can compromise with it, keep quiet about it and say it’s none of our business.  Or we can work on God’s side, listen for His orders on strategy against the evil, no matter how horrible it is, and know that He can transform it.’”

But there is hope in all our tears.  When the hour of Christ’s triumph arrives, the suffering world will be brought out into the glorious liberty of the sons of God.  For men of the new creation the golden age is not past but future, and when it is ushered in, a wondering universe will see that God has indeed abounded toward us in all wisdom and prudence.
A.W. Tozer, in The Knowledge of the Holy

And with that great hope, we persevere.

On Surviving

I wanted to entitle this “Anatomy of Chaos: One Week in My Life”.  This week looked something like this:

Scramble to find a new summer clinical site after the one I set up 3 1/2 months ago fell through.

Accept new job and sign HR paperwork (and watch a video on bloodborne pathogens.  Again.  At what point do I get to say “Ok, after this 400th review, I finally understand disease transmission!! Thank you.”??)

Work last 14 hour shift at old job.

Study for big bad test.

Orient to new clinical location.

Study for big bad test.

Fail big bad test.

Sit in class for 18 hours over two days.

Lose power in massive thunderstorms.

Work first day at new job.

The End.

But, the problem with me ending there is that it’s not the end.  There have been MANY days over the past few weeks (it’s been utterly insane.  Really.  Murphy’s law wants to take me down.) when I have stopped with the chaos, have lost perspective, have been demoralized and discouraged.  I want to hide somewhere and sleep for a very long time.   I’m not sure if this is a trial, a test, fate, or just some incredibly frustrating coincidences, but this needs to end.  Ok, maybe I do get which of those possibilites it is, and in my frailty and humanness I’m terrified–what will I do, how will I respond, Who will I trust–when the realities and dangers I’m facing are magnified a thousand fold?

I’m grateful for the people who are holding me up through these weeks–people who are praying for me, accepting that they won’t hear from me for months, supporting me, putting up with me . . . I could go on.

This month of great frustration and stress has revelaed, again, that I lean on weak crutches, and must, at times, have them break under me to recognize that they will never hold me up.  I’m not through with all the things that keep going wrong or breaking (yes, the internet is out for the 3rd time in about 6 weeks.  I’ve spent far too many rollover minutes on the phone with AT&T customer service.  They don’t love me and I don’t love them.) and I don’t really know when it will ease up–but I pray that every day I will accept what I am given with a little more grace and a little more perspective. I probably won’t, tomorrow, when I wake up and go to work tired, again.  But then I will see that the crutch of me being able to handle life will crack.

as you came to us so we come to you
fragile as a baby hopeful and new
but learning fast that to walk is to fall
soon we’ve done it all

we come broken and we come undone
we come trying hard to love everyone
but we come up short in all that we do
because we do
so we come to you

as you came to us so we come to you
dirty and hurting then dead in the tomb
but raised redeemed to show off the scars
‘cause you’ve brought us this far

you came to show the way not around but through
so through it all we come to you

–Derek Webb

Save us

I have blog posts and journal entries welling up within me, but I’ve been too busy and some of the processing is too difficult to be expressed on paper yet.  A friend I knew in Ethiopia recently started a blog, and she aptly noted that there were, in fact, interesting things to write and contemplate about life here.  Maybe the posts won’t be about being run over by donkeys on the way to the office or the struggle to know what it means to “Give to him who is hungry” while you pass a hundred beggars; but still, life is full and rich and hard and confusing here in the West, and it’s worth acknowledging the good and the bad and the downright funny (Pandora just gave me a blast from my past, when I was infatuated with SANDI PATTY!!!!  yeah, I hit skip!).

Yesterday we read the familiar Palm Sunday passage describing Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem.  I had never realized that the Hebrew meaning of “Hosanna” is literally, “Save us!”  I’m grateful for my time out of the West, partly because I can see the images of these passages a little more clearly.  The crowds lining the road leading into Jerusalem weren’t the happy, festive, well-dressed crowds you see televised from the Macy’s Day parade.  No, they were poor and perhaps a little desperate, confused about this man, yet excited about the possibilities.   They were dressed in everything from robes to tatters, thronging into the street, crescendoing their voices in words few fully understood: “Blessed is He who comes in the name of the LORD! Hosanna in the highest!”  They knew, too, that they needed help, salvation–yet most did not understand that what they really needed was life through death.  Just a few days later the same restless crowd would be incited to cry out, “Crucify Him!”

What Thou, my Lord, hast suffered,
Was all for sinners’ gain;
Mine, mine was the transgression,
But Thine the deadly pain.
Lo, here I fall, my Savior!
’Tis I deserve Thy place;
Look on me with Thy favor,
Vouchsafe me to Thy grace.

–Bernard of Clairvaux

Random Rambling about books, trips, ideas, movies, music . . .

In lieu of working on a presentation on leadership in nursing, I thought I’d think through writing about some of the things on my mind and heart.

This week marked a strange anniversary for me–I can no longer say “A year ago I lived in Ethiopia.”  This adds another challenging piece to the ‘identity crisis’ of the past year.  I am still far from settled in my life here in Dallas, and often wish I could speed up the process of becoming a part of a place.  But the hours demanded for both grad school and work suck me dry, and I’m not often faithful to put the remaining few hours toward investing in people here.

Through the transitions of the past year,  and especially over the past couple beginning weeks of Lent, I’ve been thinking a lot about joy–what does it mean?  Where does it come from?  How do you hang on to it? What does it mean to pray for the Father to “restore the joy of Your salvation” (Ps 51), to understand what Jesus meant when He said, “Abide in Me . . . if you keep my commandments, you will abide in My love . . . these things I have spoken to you, that My joy may remain in you, and that your joy may be full.” (John 15).  Fullness of joy–how much more satisfying is joy than anything this world has to offer?   I want to hit the road running this week to try to make it through John Piper’s “How to Fight for Joy” conference messages.  And I’m thinking about picking up D. Martin Lloyd Jones’ Spiritual Depression again, and actually making it through the book this time.  I find I am worn down by the weight of the world–my own busy schedule is a small part, hectic crazy life is another, but the immensity of poverty, war, disease, and brokenness in world is the largest.

I’m reading–finally, really reading–Philip Yancey’s What’s So Amazing About Grace.  Today’s chapter dealt with the unnatural act of forgiveness.

The very taste of forgiveness seems somehow wrong.  Even when we have commited a wrong, we want to earn our way back into the injured party’s good grace.  We prefer to crawl on our knees, to wallow, to do penance, to kill a lamb–and religion often obliges us.

These words struck me–how often do I try to “earn” my way with God, with my family, friends, classmates–instead of seeking forgiveness and forgiving?

This past week was my spring break (it felt a little strange to have one again.  But I’m sure I could get used to it!).  I spent a few quiet days in Albuquerque, and Leah let me spoil myself a bit. 

We both got haircuts and pedicures (then of course it was cold when I got back to Dallas and all I wanted to wear was wool socks!!).

I could stand to live around the mountains again!

It rained a bit there (I should get an award for bringing the first rain of the year, right?) and a striking rainbow appeared–a perfect arc of reminder.

One night we went to see Slumdog Millionare–I realize that pretty much everyone else and their dog has already seen it, but it was only the 2nd movie I’ve seen in the US in the last 3 1/2 years!  I’d been warned by a few friends that the movie might be hard for me, that the slum life of India might hit too close to home.  I thought I did ok, the credits were rolling, I was quietly mulling how amazing a film it was, when Leah asked, “So, what did you think?”  The tears came then–the movie was real.  I have no doubt they veiled the brutality of religious violence, of the pain of poverty, of the fear of bondage–but enough was shown to make me long for the day when justice will roll down.

Recently I picked up my tattered copy of Christy (sorry for the cover art on the edition Amazon offers!!).  I’ve read this book, or parts of it, many times–but over the past few months I have appreciated it a lot more, I think mostly because I could more readily understand the struggles of poverty, disease, familial breakdown, and hopelessness.  In thinking about evil that had torn apart families and destroyed communities, the author wrote,

I had to step aside and ask Someone else to do the fighting for me.  And every time I thought of my particular battle–usually many times a day–I had to step consciously out of the way again and give gratitude to Him for the battle He was waging on my behalf right then.  Sometimes it took days, sometimes longer, for evil was rarely flimsy but the outcome was sure; sure becasue He was and is the Lord of life.  And sure, because evil is at the last a coward that slinks away when finally challenged and faced down.

How grateful I am to know that the outcome is sure, and evil is, at last, the coward–because some days it doesn’t seem so.

This weekend I went to Paris to join a whole host of extended family (most of whom I’m not actually related to!) to celebrate the 80th birthday of my “extra” grandmother.  It was a sweet time of celebrating her life, and seeing the astounding legacy of a life lived for love of God, family, and people.  My cousin Amory sang a fitting song entitled Legacy

I don’t have to look too far or too long awhile
To make a lengthy list of all that I enjoy
It’s an accumulating trinket and a treasure pile
Where moth and rust, thieves and such will soon enough destroy

I want to leave a legacy
How will they remember me?
Did I choose to love? Did I point to You enough
To make a mark on things?

And last, but certainly not least, I’ve been savoring the new U2 album, No Line On the Horizon.

It’ll probably take me awhile to give a final verdict on the album, but so far I like.  I’m intrigued.

Now this dry ground, it bears no fruit at all
Only poppies laugh under the crescent moon
The road refuses strangers
The land, the seeds we sow
Where might we find the lamb as white as snow?

I think it’s time for me to stop here.  Past time, you’re probably thinking!  Time to go running, and then–it’s always time for Girl Scout Thin Mints.

And maybe, finally, that presentation.

“Fortune magazine annually lists the five hundred richest people;

no one knows the names of the five hundred poorest.”

--Philip Yancey, in What's So Amazing About Grace?