Lessons from a Week in the Forest

The past five days have been incredible. I spent an entire week with my class in the middle of the Cambodian forest, where we slept in stilt huts, ate MSG-ridden food, and did a ton of teamwork-building activities. But what I probably enjoyed the most was the amount of time we had to reflect on our identities in Christ. It seemed pretty cliché at first, but I realized after a while that it really isn't. God really spoke to me through these times, and I also loved spending time with Jesus in the early mornings, sitting in the middle of the forest. I believe God had a lot He wanted to share with me, and I hope that what I share with you will also speak to you in some way.

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Allow God to transform you into something new and beautiful.

In the Bible, Jacob lived a life that built up a reputation for himself that labelled him as a liar and a cheat. He eventually reached the lowest point in his life where he finally met up with God and said, "I am not going to let go of you until you transform me." Jacob literally wrestled with an angel for an entire night. God eventually agreed, and Jacob was completely transformed. His name was changed to Israel, meaning "may God prevail" and "he struggles with God", and he spent the rest of his life as a completely different person. He carried a scar from his past life though -- a hurt hip that meant he limped -- but he got through, and was a changed person.

We're all messed up in some way. I'm messed up. Even though I'm a Christian and I love Jesus, I'm messed up. Often I feel like, because I'm a Christian, my identity should be one of a "goody-two-shoes": the girl that's involved in her church and is a good example to those younger than herself. But that doesn't mean I don't have my flaws. I, despite being a Christian, am still in need of God's transformation. 

That's a hard truth. And being transformed is not easy. Heck, Jacob wrestled with an angel for an entire night before he was transformed! And he was stuck with a hurt hip for the rest of his life! But being made new is still better than remaining the same. Any day. 

God has put things in us to make us beautiful. He's given us a whole lot to be thankful for, and a whole lot more that gives us the potential to do really incredible things. But we need to make the choice of taking the first steps to use these things to be beautiful. And when we do, that is when the transformation can take place, and Jesus is able to begin to shape our true identity in Him.

Live a life according to Jesus' example.

I look up to a lot of different people and things for a lot of different reasons. I look up to Pinterest for photography ideas and recipes to try out (if you're curious, here's my Pinterest profile). I look up to my mother for things to do with life and faith, and some of my friends for things I admire in them. But what hasn't really occurred to me to its full extent is whether or not I really look up to Jesus. In difficult situations, do I really think, "what would Jesus do?" When I'm sitting with my friends, having a good laugh, do I really wonder how Jesus would act?

Jesus' mission was to stand with and stand up for the blind, oppressed, and the prisoners (see Luke 4:14-23). And if Jesus identified with such people, shouldn't we? Ultimately, the truth is that we are people called to live lives according to Jesus' example. We are called to model his grace, love, and humility. 

But something that really challenged me about this topic was this: Will what I choose to do with my future go along Jesus' example, or not?

Ouch. That really struck home for me. I feel like I've lived my life simply pursuing the dream of becoming a teacher and school counselor without really questioning it much. It just seems so clear to me. But this question really got me thinking: has this almost-life-long dream just been me all along, or has it been Jesus all along? 

I really do want to be a lot like Jesus. I want to be the girl that is nice to people without expecting anything in return. I want to be the girl that hugs a lot. I want to be a good listener. I want to stand up for what I know is true and right. I want to help people. I want to be there for people. I want to make people feel God's love.

It's not always that easy. In fact, it usually isn't.

Hard things happen.

Life isn't easy. Life is full of hard things that make us cry or make us want to scream.

Hard things are hard. I'm not talking about somebody sitting next to you and poking you incessantly in the arm. I'm talking about other hard things. Like expectations of others and yourself. Abusive parents. Bullies. Depression. These things are real issues in the world, and that they aren't things that should be swept under the rug or put away in a pretty box as though they're things that will take care of themselves. They're things that need to be thought about, acknowledged, given to God, and worked through.

Some hard things have answers. But those answers don't feel good. It's not easy to respond to bullies with love. It's not easy to admit you're in the wrong. It's not easy to ask for forgiveness.

Some hard things don't have clear answers. Sometimes, God doesn't make it so clear why you're going through such a tough time. We often don't see the reason for dying babies, or war. We often don't see why a loving God would allow such awful, difficult things to happen.

Some hard things change. And no matter the lack of a clear answer, there is hope. Eventually, things become easier. You get over the loss of someone you love. You move out of the cloud of depression and find a purpose in life again. The bullies move on to someone else. Sometimes, hard things change.

Sometimes you change. And sometimes, that's what the answer is. God uses hard things to shape us, change us, transform us. Jacob wrestled with an angel. I suppose you could call that a "hard thing". But he came out of it, transformed into something beautiful.

If I want to be transformed by Jesus, I'm going to have to let Him do what He wants with my life. If I want to be changed, hard things are going to have to happen.

You aren't defined by the hard things that make you fall. You're defined by how you fall and how you get back up again.

This was one valuable lesson that really stuck with me. What does it mean to be a Christian? How does being a Christian make you different from everyone else in the world (other than the following Jesus bit)?

Hard things happen to Christian and non-Christians. But when you look closely at people in the world, often it's the Christians that react to difficult times with patience, hope, and peace.

I'm not saying this is always the case. But I think that's what Christians are called to do -- respond to hard times in the way Jesus would. 

My identity in Christ is so much more than being involved in my church. My identity in Christ is so much more than having the "what would Jesus do" mindset. My identity is about so much more than that.

My identity is about showing love, even when it's hard to. My identity should be about responding to hard times with the hope and grace of Jesus, believing that He's at work in some way in every situation. My identity should be that of somebody running the amazing race of life with the joy and peace of Jesus, always striving to be more like Him.

Let me be honest. It's not going to be easy. In fact, according to what I've learned so far, it usually isn't. But I believe God's got an incredible transformation in store for me. I'm prepared to wrestle with angels as long as it means it's turning me into something beautiful.

Psalm 126:5 -- "Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy."

About Goodbyes and Therapy

I wrote this blog post on the 26th of December last year (2014), but I never really got around to posting it. I don't really know why. I read back on it just now and realized that it explains so well what I felt back then, despite the fact that I was so unsure about it at the time. So, a post written more than a month and a half ago, from the heart of a TCK, to yours. Enjoy.

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It's the last day of school. 

The assembly [chapel] area of my school is crowded with the entire population of the school, milling around, saying goodbyes.

In other countries, the last day of school may look a lot different. I wouldn't know. But what I do know is that it definitely doesn't look like this.

At my school, the last day of school is hardly one where kids shout for joy and squeal at the thought of the approaching summer. Kids don't run out the school gates the moment the school principal announces, "It is officially the end of the school year. Have a great summer!" They all stay behind to do one thing: say goodbye.

It's always been normal for me. The end of the school year is red eyes and tissues. The feeling of loss, helplessness. I remember each of my end-of-school-year days. How different they all were, and yet, how strangely similar they are to each other. Each of them end in tears.

For those of you out there, this may not really make much sense. And I really don't expect it to. But what I'm saying is that my life is full of making new friends, but it's also full of saying goodbye to them again. And making new friends again. My life is a never-ending cycle of hellos and goodbyes. And sometimes that hurts.

And I think, for me, life as a TCK has slowly made me more numb to these goodbyes.

I'm the kind of TCK that doesn't have many problems making friends. It doesn't take very much for me to open up to you and feel close and content and safe with you. But then when the goodbyes come along, I find myself not feeling very much.

It's not that I didn't value the friendship I had. It's just that my feelings aren't really accepting the fact that I have to say goodbye again. So they just don't accept it. They don't let me realize it was a goodbye until later. When everyone is gone, and I'm all alone, I realize what just happened. I just said goodbye to a really good friend that I may never see again. And that's when the floodgates open and I start bawling.

My sister graduating kinda put things more into perspective.

Especially now, as she's preparing to take flight as a real adult, making her own decisions and embarking on a scary and exciting new journey into the great big world, and I have to say goodbye to her. And it's hard.

But last night, as my family was singing Christmas carols and opening presents and praying together, the tears came. And my sister hasn't even gone yet. But it felt good to cry. It was the kind of cry that was all sadness but all happiness at once. It was the kind of cry that sort of helped me to make more sense of what I was feeling, and letting it out in a rational way.

I sort of realized around that point that it's actually really important for me to cry when I say goodbye. It's my way of clinging to the last I have of the person, and then somehow, in the midst of the sobbing and shoulder-shaking and face-reddening, I let go.

It's so important for us TCKs to have a way to let go. There's so much emotion in our lives. And there's got to be a way for us to let it out. Or at least, acknowledge it in a way that isn't anger and bitterness. Crying is my psychiatrist. And I know that it won't always work. But for me, there's a comfort in being able to just cry to a while, maybe be held by a friend that hasn't left me yet, or a family member, and then taking a deep breath and moving on.