Whanau

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Web definitions Whānau is a Māori-language word for extended family, now increasingly entering New Zealand English, particularly in official publications. en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Whānau (the basic unit of Maori society into which an individual was born and socialised), www.justice.govt.nz/publications/publications-archived/2001/he…

I've been giving some thought to what life is going to look like past December 2013, the official date my contract with WCF ends, but mainly only because my visa expires then. If it makes sense for the Church to have me stay on past December 2013, by all means, I'll be here. But if I've become more of a nuisance than I am now, I'm not going to overstay my welcome. Anyhow, that's still a ways ahead so there's no pressure for concrete plans.

At the same time, as much as I have thoroughly enjoyed drifting where the wind blows/where the Lord leads, there are moments--sometimes long days on end--when I long for a bit more stability. Often the most nagging one is the financial stability.

I have made it through a whole year through the generosity of family and friends, and then some. There's a part of me that says, "Cool, let's see how Providence continues to sort this out." Then there's a part of me that's becoming increasingly obnoxious with the, "'Making it through' was fine while you were in college and seminary. But you're 26. That's not going to cut it anymore."

I'll be eternally grateful to Missionary Action Projects--and all involved to get me connected to them--for graciously helping me transfer funds. But because they only transfer my funds and there isn't a formal sending organization, a lot of times I have to pull out the dusty memory files from the Global Missions days to create a whole new system to "send" myself.

Along with the steep learning curve that comes with moving to a new culture and process the immense grief of the whole transition period, I've also had to force myself to be intentional about pastoral care--shamelessly throwing myself at mentors, begging them to pastor me through this process. I've never really worked with a budget, much less having to create a feasible one for a lifestyle I knew nothing about, to know what to present to folks who might be keen to throw in financial support. I've always enjoyed the writing process, but to create newsletters that are succinct enough to communicate all that's going on here (bear in mind these newsletters go to the odd combination of old friends, folks who want to support ministry, and mentors who want to know I still have a little bit of sanity left) and make sure they go to all the folks they are supposed to go to, holy shenanigans... Where do I even start writing? Throw in the non-existent budget to go hang out with folks who send money, cards, candy and beat-up iPods, and figuring out how to get the cheapest flights to go to all these places...

I found myself wishing again that I either wasn't born outside of the US, or hadn't spent those seven years there that resulted in the formation of most of my networks within that country.

Which was why when I stumbled upon a possibility of an official sending agency, I got really excited. Not only would there be a little bit of help in all of those other areas, but I would also more formal financial support--even if they are from folks I've never met before.


And then...
Of course. Why should I be surprised?

I got a little note from dear, sweet friends in Anderson. There weren't very many words on the little page, but to know that Phil and Phyllis Kinley who had given a significant part of their lives to the Church in Japan took the time to write that little note and say, "Hey, we think of you often, and we're praying for you." left me shaking my head.

"No, I'd rather have instability with whanau (family) than stability with strangers."

After all, this has been a year of embracing the very significant but often distracted part of me that desperately wants to dig into the grassroots. I'm barely getting my shoes muddy and the distractions have been aplenty.

Well, guess what?
I'm happy in the mud.

That's where my whanau is.

Imagine

I've started, paused, deleted everything and re-started this post several times now.

It's not that I don't have anything to say.

I've always been open and honest about my internal struggle between being jaded and hopeful.

But I'm afraid that if I write now, my jadedness is going to whip out its trump card and give me a good scare.


There are days when I appreciate being an NF (Myers-Briggs) because its familiarity helps me navigate the waters of life and ministry really easily.
And then there are days when I hate, and am utterly disgusted at being an NF because it comes with baggage.

In the last few weeks, I've felt a passionate hatred and disgust at being an NF that has also just been slapped with a $5000 excess baggage fine.


To be completely honest, I was slightly disappointed after arriving here that Te Atatu Peninsula wasn't closer to the city-center. I love cities because I thrive on culture, creativity, and... depravity.

And then slowly, one at a time, the layers of depravity on the Peninsula got peeled back.

Don't get me wrong. We live in a broken but beautiful community. Except lately, I've seen a lot more brokenness than beauty, and it's making me wonder, God, why? And how long?


Chad started a sermon series last week on re-imagining, in preparation for our campaign for the Hub.

Imagine what it would be like if Kingdom does come here on earth as it is in heaven.

I'm having a really difficult time with this series. Every week for the last, oh, good little while now, something else is happening to one of us in the whanau (Maori for extended family), and suddenly it's no longer praying Kingdom come for someone else somewhere else.

It's right here.
It's close to home.
It's family.

The only reason I haven't given up on hope is because somewhere, there is a God that is bigger than the hopelessness and the depravity. And if I didn't believe that hope still exists somewhere out there, even if it feels really far away at the moment, I don't think I can comfortably make the claim that I believe in a God that is bigger and stronger than my present.

That is a scary place to be.
I've never known life without God, and I'm not sure I'm ready to even entertain that possibility just because in the frailty of my humanity, I've found it difficult to believe.

Just because my small mind cannot comprehend at this moment, it doesn't change the fact that God is.
That God remains.


The more seasoned missionary friends are saying that these are sentiments that are not out of the ordinary for being on my fifth month here.

That this, too, shall pass.

I hope they are right.


And the pain falls like a curtain
On the things I once called certain
And I have to say the words I fear the most
I just don’t know


And the questions without answers
Come and paralyze the dancer
So I stand here on the stage afraid to move
Afraid to fall, oh, but fall I must
On this truth that my life has been formed from the dust


God is God and I am not
I can only see a part of the picture He’s painting
God is God and I am man
So I’ll never understand it all
For only God is God


And the sky begins to thunder
And I’m filled with awe and wonder
‘Til the only burning question that remains
Is who am I


Can I form a single mountain
Take the stars in hand and count them
Can I even take a breath without God giving it to me
He is first and last before all that has been
Beyond all that will pass


Oh, how great are the riches of His wisdom and knowledge
How unsearchable for to Him and through
Him and from Him are all things


So let us worship before the throne
Of the One who is worthy of worship alone
- Steven Curtis Chapman

Personal Notes...

#1
They say people in ministry don't cry. They're not supposed to.
Or maybe we just don't want to think they do or don't want to see it because they're supposed to be the strong ones.
But people in ministry are people too.
They hurt too.
They lose a friend, a sibling, a child.
They say a lot of hellos, but they also say a lot of goodbyes.
And how can they not cry when they keep leaving pieces of their hearts with people and places?

Hey, I know it's not October and not time for Clergy Appreciation month yet, but take a little time today to care for the people in ministry around you, will ya?

#2
Two years of seminary are over and done with now. How much have I learnt? Not much more than the extent of how much I don't know, and how much I will probably never figure out. Except for that one constant: love. All that digging, all that discussing, all that academia, only to come back to the simple truth: love.

As my dear wise friend Mike so brilliantly worded it, "Love is so simple and yet so profound. We study in order to understand the profound part. We "do" in order to understand the simple part. We need both."

#3
So quitting my job and coming to Germany may not have been the smartest thing to do given the way the economy is now. Even till the month before I left, people kept asking if I had really thought through this carefully.

Well, it may not have been the smartest thing to do, but it's definitely been the biggest step of faith I've taken, and boy what an adventure this has been. And life is about adventure, isn't it?

Before I came, I thought I had two years left of school - two more years to figure out what's next, or if I wanted to do even more schooling. But then I came here and my world got turned inside out and upside down all over again and I think I found/remembered even more of who I really am and not just who the Singaporean/American societies have wanted me to be.

And so, I'll finish school in May with one degree instead of two. In the meantime, I'm still looking for some kind of employment to help pay for this last year of school. The good news is, now instead of taking a full-load, I'll only need to take three in each semester to maintain a full-time status for my student visa - which cuts down on tuition AND gives me more time to either work or simply hang out with people. AND the other good news is that I might have my old student job at the Human Resources office at AU back for a while to tide me over till I find something else.

Big step of faith, eh?

Peter tried another angle: "We left everything and followed you." Jesus said, "Mark my words, no one who sacrifices house, brothers, sisters, mother, father, children, land—whatever—because of me and the Message will lose out. They'll get it all back, but multiplied many times in homes, brothers, sisters, mothers, children, and land—but also in troubles. And then the bonus of eternal life! This is once again the Great Reversal: Many who are first will end up last, and the last first."
- Mark 10:28-31

Then what's next? Well, I've already taken a big step of faith so another big step wouldn't hurt, right? Who knows. There are a few possibilities, but if you want to know, we'll have to go out to dinner... Or do it the German way - coffee or ice-cream.
 
#4
As I mentioned earlier, I think I've found even more of myself in the last 2 months. And now that my time here is ending, I'm still going to love with all that I am, can and have. But I also need to start preparing mentally, physically and emotionally to head back to Anderson.
 
When I left Anderson, I was in such a mess that I didn't even realise what a mess I was in. I can't say I've completely sorted through the mess, but at least now I see the mess. And now I'm returning to one of the "home cultures" again. I don't know if Anderson is ready for me - or I for them, but here we go. The countdown now stands at fourteen days. Or two weeks. Two weeks too little.
 
Hey, if you're the praying type, say a prayer if you remember, will ya?
 
Love you all

Haiti Part Zwei and other stuff...

I think a part of why I chose to never blog about natural disasters and calamities of such is because there's this big hype about something happening. And then when the next new fad comes along, this old hype dies away. Then nobody cares anymore. It's not the cool thing to talk/blog about anymore.

I've been thinking a lot about that lately. How do we care about people in the long run? When something first happens, we respond quickly to the need, then after a while, we move on to the next thing. The next funeral. The next celebrity scandal. The next... whatever it may be. How do we care for the grieving ones after the funeral is over and the family is all gone and the house is silent again? How do we care for people after the "Hope for Haiti Now" concert is over and the disaster relief workers pull out of the area and move on with their lives? And how do we care for the disaster relief workers?

Lots of questions. No answers... at least, not yet.


In other news, here's a brief update on Berlin:

Had a good lunch meeting with Kelley, Patrick and Jamie. I'm excited to be working with them, and being thrown the real life questions about urban ministry. Still lots of details to be put together, like budgets and stuff, but I think we have most of it figured out.

Speaking of budgets, I may have found the perfect person to help me with my fundraising. Thonja, a lady who used to go to Chesterfield where I served as worship assistant for a year has offered to help lessen my load this semester in whatever way she can help. She and her husband Gary were also the key people who helped the youth group fundraise for the International Youth Convention two years ago.

Somehow, God still works in ways that I can't even begin to try to figure out.