"My country, tis of thee,
Sweet land of liberty,
Of thee I sing..."
No, I'm not American, nor while I try to claim to be one even though there are days, like spending 4th of July in Fritzlar, Germany last year instead of being at a cookout with friends like I have for the last 6 years.
But at the same time, last week when my family and I took a road-trip covering the major cities of the east coast, it dawned on me that I've been very intentional about making this country home. And when a place is "home," we don't think to do our own cultural, historical exegesis that I've got to do in some of my more significant travels in the last few years.
So while I know I should probably be blogging about life at the moment, or thoughts post-graduation, or giving updates on New Zealand, allow me a few moments to wonder aloud.
7 days, 10 states.
Niagara Falls, NY (via OH, PA)
2am Monday morning, after all the graduation festivities, we headed to Niagara Falls, NY. The time at the Falls itself was kind of a coming-full-circle for me because it was 7 years ago that I stood in awe of the same Falls, except on the Canadian side, thinking about life ahead. I just received news that I had been accepted at AU, even though I hadn't received my official acceptance letter. As I stood at the Falls 7 years ago, I remembered thinking, God if you can craft this majesty that's in front of me, you can craft my future even though I sure as heck don't think that being 18 years of life had equipped me enough to move halfway across the world. Little did I realise that was only the beginning.
7 years later, I stood in front of the same Falls as we were drenched standing in the Maid of the Mist, still in awe of the 7 years that have passed, and the 7... or however many more, that lay ahead. Another big move is about to happen. But the apprehension of 7 years ago is now replaced with an intoxicating feeling that, at this point, even the sky is not the limit anymore. So exciting, but also so intimidating.
And that, is the journey of faith.
Boston, MA
Next major city: Boston. As we walked the Freedom Trail, the sense of, "Wow, I'm walking where history took place" started to sink in. It was the similar feeling when we did the walking tour in Berlin the first full day of our arrival. This was the land where people came to, searching for freedom. And this is where it began.
New York City, NY (via CT)
New York City, in all its glitz and glamour, has really unfortunately become a place that needs to be redeemed for me. It has nothing to do with the glitz and glamour (I am, after all, a city girl). But my encounters with this city has, on too many occasions, brought to the surface ghosts from the past that make me question myself. And sadly, it has nothing to do with the city itself, except for the reminder that stressful organizational structures make people go crazy and react perhaps in ways that they know better than to react. Sounds strangely familiar huh, what with organized religion and all. Oops, did I really say that out loud?
Philadelphia, PA (via NJ)
I think this was where everything hit home for me. As I mentioned earlier, I might have lived in the US for the last 7 years, but most people don't think to do a cultural exegesis of "home". Yet as I stood in front of the Liberty Bell, all I could think of was the words, "From every mountainside, let freedom ring." Never mind that the only reason I know the song in its entirety is because it was often used in my music classes in undergrad. Still, the words rang true.
This is what this country stood for: from every mountainside, let freedom ring.
I'm not one for making political statements or judgment calls of whether a country is doing enough to reflect their political ideals. But yet as I stood there, it hit home that, if I had to make an agenda list of my ministry-goals (the thought itself makes me cringe just a little bit since goals are necessary but often pushed too far beyond what is most beneficial. But go with it for now--I'm trying to make an illustration here), liberation would rank fairly high. Yet at the same time, my experience in NYC just reminded me that I myself am not liberated. I still have ghosts from my past that are binding me down.
Freedom. Huh. What a noble concept.
District of Columbia (via MD)
If you've ever written an exegesis paper or a sermon, you know how you get to the end and you have to write the praxis part? This was kind of what being in DC felt like.
As I walked around the "American Indian" museum at the Smithsonian, I was reminded of Juanita, a girl on Pine Ridge Reservation in Allen, SD who asked me to teach her how to say "best friend" in Chinese so that that could be her name for me. 4 years have passed since I met her, but every once in a while, I like living vicariously through my friend Emily and the work she's involved with in SD. From time to time, I wonder about Juanita, and Star, and all the other kids I got to know on the trip. I wonder how they are now. I wonder what kinds of lifestyle decisions they have made given the circumstances they have to live with.
Their choice? I don't think I can answer that question.
From every mountainside, let freedom ring.
And then there were words set in stone, quoted from so many of the political forefathers of this country. I wonder... I wonder how much of it they preached, and how much they practice. I wonder how much these words have been passed on to the next generation. I wonder how much easier it is for me to say to them, "hey you said that, but you didn't live that out" than it is for me to say it to myself.
I'm no politician, so I'm not going to pretend I understand the life of a politician. Nor do I understand much of politics in any way, shape or form.
But freedom... Hmm.
What a noble concept.
Sweet land of liberty,
Of thee I sing..."
No, I'm not American, nor while I try to claim to be one even though there are days, like spending 4th of July in Fritzlar, Germany last year instead of being at a cookout with friends like I have for the last 6 years.
But at the same time, last week when my family and I took a road-trip covering the major cities of the east coast, it dawned on me that I've been very intentional about making this country home. And when a place is "home," we don't think to do our own cultural, historical exegesis that I've got to do in some of my more significant travels in the last few years.
So while I know I should probably be blogging about life at the moment, or thoughts post-graduation, or giving updates on New Zealand, allow me a few moments to wonder aloud.
7 days, 10 states.
Niagara Falls, NY (via OH, PA)
2am Monday morning, after all the graduation festivities, we headed to Niagara Falls, NY. The time at the Falls itself was kind of a coming-full-circle for me because it was 7 years ago that I stood in awe of the same Falls, except on the Canadian side, thinking about life ahead. I just received news that I had been accepted at AU, even though I hadn't received my official acceptance letter. As I stood at the Falls 7 years ago, I remembered thinking, God if you can craft this majesty that's in front of me, you can craft my future even though I sure as heck don't think that being 18 years of life had equipped me enough to move halfway across the world. Little did I realise that was only the beginning.
7 years later, I stood in front of the same Falls as we were drenched standing in the Maid of the Mist, still in awe of the 7 years that have passed, and the 7... or however many more, that lay ahead. Another big move is about to happen. But the apprehension of 7 years ago is now replaced with an intoxicating feeling that, at this point, even the sky is not the limit anymore. So exciting, but also so intimidating.
And that, is the journey of faith.
Boston, MA
Next major city: Boston. As we walked the Freedom Trail, the sense of, "Wow, I'm walking where history took place" started to sink in. It was the similar feeling when we did the walking tour in Berlin the first full day of our arrival. This was the land where people came to, searching for freedom. And this is where it began.
New York City, NY (via CT)
New York City, in all its glitz and glamour, has really unfortunately become a place that needs to be redeemed for me. It has nothing to do with the glitz and glamour (I am, after all, a city girl). But my encounters with this city has, on too many occasions, brought to the surface ghosts from the past that make me question myself. And sadly, it has nothing to do with the city itself, except for the reminder that stressful organizational structures make people go crazy and react perhaps in ways that they know better than to react. Sounds strangely familiar huh, what with organized religion and all. Oops, did I really say that out loud?
Philadelphia, PA (via NJ)
I think this was where everything hit home for me. As I mentioned earlier, I might have lived in the US for the last 7 years, but most people don't think to do a cultural exegesis of "home". Yet as I stood in front of the Liberty Bell, all I could think of was the words, "From every mountainside, let freedom ring." Never mind that the only reason I know the song in its entirety is because it was often used in my music classes in undergrad. Still, the words rang true.
This is what this country stood for: from every mountainside, let freedom ring.
I'm not one for making political statements or judgment calls of whether a country is doing enough to reflect their political ideals. But yet as I stood there, it hit home that, if I had to make an agenda list of my ministry-goals (the thought itself makes me cringe just a little bit since goals are necessary but often pushed too far beyond what is most beneficial. But go with it for now--I'm trying to make an illustration here), liberation would rank fairly high. Yet at the same time, my experience in NYC just reminded me that I myself am not liberated. I still have ghosts from my past that are binding me down.
Freedom. Huh. What a noble concept.
District of Columbia (via MD)
If you've ever written an exegesis paper or a sermon, you know how you get to the end and you have to write the praxis part? This was kind of what being in DC felt like.
As I walked around the "American Indian" museum at the Smithsonian, I was reminded of Juanita, a girl on Pine Ridge Reservation in Allen, SD who asked me to teach her how to say "best friend" in Chinese so that that could be her name for me. 4 years have passed since I met her, but every once in a while, I like living vicariously through my friend Emily and the work she's involved with in SD. From time to time, I wonder about Juanita, and Star, and all the other kids I got to know on the trip. I wonder how they are now. I wonder what kinds of lifestyle decisions they have made given the circumstances they have to live with.
Their choice? I don't think I can answer that question.
From every mountainside, let freedom ring.
And then there were words set in stone, quoted from so many of the political forefathers of this country. I wonder... I wonder how much of it they preached, and how much they practice. I wonder how much these words have been passed on to the next generation. I wonder how much easier it is for me to say to them, "hey you said that, but you didn't live that out" than it is for me to say it to myself.
I'm no politician, so I'm not going to pretend I understand the life of a politician. Nor do I understand much of politics in any way, shape or form.
But freedom... Hmm.
What a noble concept.
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