23 Life Lessons, 23 Years in the Making

It's probably presumptuous of me to assert that I've acquired any real wisdom by 23. But since it's by birthday, I thought I'd share with you 23 Life Lessons, 23 Years in the Making...

1. "Trust in the Lord your God with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; In all your ways acknowledge him and he shall direct your paths." Proverbs 3 :5-6. Learned this lesson the hard way. Life just works better when you put your faith in the Lord and not in yourself.

2. A day that begins with coffee is usually better than a day that does not.

3. You should try to do at least one thing everyday that scares you. How else are you going to come up with the chapter titles for your autobiography?

4. "Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art..it has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that gives value to survival" (C.S. Lewis)

5. If your bookshelf is taller than you, you'll never grow up.

6. A cluttered desk indicates an organized mind.

7. Pray often. In fact, pray as though your life depends on it. Because it does.

8. Men are different than women. For men this is self-evident. Most women do not discover this until they start working with them.

9. Sometime's it's smart to due dumb things. Like volunteering to serve as a missionary the year after you graduate from college. Smartest life decision yet.

10. There are few problems in life that a good run won't solve.

11. Being single is a gift. Embrace it. Treasure it. Delight in it.

12. Take the time to figure out what you want to do with your life. Why? Because "freedom son's a dirty shirt/The sun on my face and my shovel in the dirt/My shovel in the dirt keeps the devil gone/I woke up this morning shackled and drawn." (Bruce Springsteen "Shackled and Drawn")

13. Take the time to learn how to cook. Not all of us were created to be great chefs, but none of us were created to live on microwaved dinners and frozen pizza.

14. "If you can't dazzle them with your brilliance, baffle them with your bullshit." (Dad)

15. If a book isn't holding your attention by the third hour into it, put it down. Life's too short.

16. "For I know the plans I have for you declares the Lord; plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future" (Jeremiah 29:11)

17. "Tis better to sit back and have others think that you're dumb, then to stand up and prove it." Spoken by Mr. Shaner, my seventh grade language arts teacher.

18. A best friend is someone who's got your back, and will kick your butt.

19. Do not post anything on Facebook you wouldn't want your grandmother to see. Or your high school English teacher, or your ex-boyfriend's mother, or your cousin that you only see at family reunions. Because they ALL will.

20. If you forgive those who've hurt you, you'll stop hurting yourself.

21. Your early twenties are the perfect time to develop an eccentric hobby. When your eighty, you want to be able to tell your great grand kids about the time you thought it was a good idea to take a yoga class in a 90 degree studio in the middle of July.

22. "All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost; the old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not reached by the frost. From the ashes a fire shall be woken, a light from the shadows shall spring; renewed shall be blade that was broken, the crownless again shall be king"( J.R.R Tolkien.)

23. The only constant in life is change.

Catching My Breath in a Room of My Own

One of my favorite essays that I read as an undergraduate at Pitt was Virginia Woolf's A Room of One's Own. As I was setting up my bookshelf yesterday in my new room, I couldn't help but skim some of my highlighted passages. In her essay, Woolfe argues that women are great writers, but cannot write in their current social environments because "a woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction" (Woolfe 4). Such a simple statement. A statement that helps me make sense of why I've been unable to write in the last month.

About a month ago I moved from Ann Arbor, Michigan back to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania to spend time with my family before moving into Household and working for University Christian Outreach (UCO). The first two weeks home were really difficult for me because of the culture shock. I went from living with nine women in a space designed for 3 to living with my mom and sister in a space that could easily fit double that. My mom works the daylight shift as a nurse, and my sister works evenings as a waitress, so I spent a lot of time at home by myself. The suburbs can be quite a lonely place on a weekday afternoon when you have nothing to do. Also, my mom and sister are the type of people who eat a pot of coffee for breakfast, sunflower seeds and a piece of fruit for lunch, then everything but the kitchen sink for dinner. I'm the type of person who skips a meal only when violently ill.

Another area I struggled with being at my parent's house was having a consistent prayer time. It's hard to find a time to pray when you're living out of boxes and unsure what's going on. Eventually I realized that if prayer time was a priority for me, I'd have to prioritize it one day at a time. By the third week I started driving my mother to work (at 6:30 am!) and having my prayer time right when I got home. In consistently offering my loneliness and frustrations over to the Lord, the culture shock began to lift. I began moving my things into Household, and a moved in officially last night.

What can I compare to the joy of sleeping in your own bed for the first time in 11 months? In a room of one's own? It feels like catching your breath after running a race you didn't think you could finish. Now that your blood's no longer pounding so violently in your head, you can hear your internal voice again. The race stretched and challenged you, but it's the cool down that makes you feel most like yourself.

When I look around my new room, I see a tangible expression of how the Lord worked through me on my GAP year. My mom's old chest of draws, my sister's desk, a desk chair from my grandparent's kitchen table remind me that my family loves me and will continue to support me wherever life leads me. My bookshelf crammed with everything from Ralph Ellison's Invisible Man to Dr. Seuss' O The Places You'll Go! encourages me to learn something new everyday. The sunlight streaming across my black prayer chair reminds me to fix my eyes on the Lord during this time of transition. And my fireplace (ps. our house was built in 1900!) covered with the photographs of the women and men I've met along my journey reminds me of the Lord's love for me.

Typing with Nine Fingers

This week in summer household, we're reflecting on the Lord's peace. I find this topic particularly fitting, and perhaps a tad ironic, because I'm feeling pretty anxious these days.

Less than one week from today I move back to Pittsburgh. See my last blog post for my thoughts on transitions. In the next six weeks, I will be moving twice, seeking employment, preparing for summer camp, and preparing for UCO staff work. Not to mention catching up with the family and friends I haven't seen in the last year. Plus processing the emotional and spiritual vestiges of my GAP year. In the week to come, I need to pack, schedule goodbyes, coordinate the move, buy my sister a birthday present, finish my newsletter, write out thank-you cards, and finish my career counseling course. All while participating fully in the last week of summer household. 

During my personal prayer time this morning I basically presented the Lord with a list of my anxieties and asked him to bless them. The Lord in turn showed me that my to-do list of anxieties point to a lack of trust in his grace and goodness. Instead of offering my fears of the future over to God, I'm internalizing them and turning into a basket case. 

Case in point. I'm currently writing this blog post from a laundry mat. I was in such a rush to get out the door this morning (aka start crossing things off my mile long to-do list) I left my money at home. When we arrived at the laundry mat, I started frantically digging through my bag for the money I left at home. In the process, I pricked my finger on a pencil and dripped blood over half the contents of my laundry bag. Thankfully my housemate gave me one of those "you're-being-an-idiot-stop-it" hugs and lent me the money to wash my cloths. 

As I sit here trying to type with nine fingers, I'm realizing that I can't depend on circumstances to bring me peace, or I'll never be peaceful. I can choose to respond to stressful situations with peace or  with anxiety. Not the fake peace that comes from disengaging from reality, but the true peace that comes from trusting in the Lord. My need to rely more on the Lord for peace reminds me of the passage in Exodus 14 right before the Israelites cross the Red Sea into the Promised Land. Petrified by their fears of the unknown they ask Moses:

 Was it because there were no graves in Egypt that you brought us to the desert to die? What have you done to us by bringing us out of Egypt? ¹² Didn’t we say to you in Egypt, ‘Leave us alone; let us serve the Egyptians’? It would have been better for us to serve the Egyptians than to die in the desert!”  Moses answered the people, “Do not be afraid. Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the Lord will bring you today. The Egyptians you see today you will never see again.

The Lord did not call me out of Egypt (my post-GAP life) to have me drown in the Red Sea (my GAP year) before reaching the Promised Land (Adult Christianity). The Lord knew what he was doing when he called me on a GAP year, and I trust that he will continue to provide for me in this next step. I trust that the Rebecca that will be moving back to Pittsburgh is not the Becky who left it. 

On that note, I think it's time to take my laundry out of the dryer...

So, I Don't Do Transitions Well...

When I was a child, I was always that kid who turned into a brat the last month of school.Most kids turned into brats because they were too excited about the approaching summer. I turned into a brat because I didn't want the school year to end. From a young age I knew that the end of a school year ment my schedule was going to change, and I resisted that change by being moody and throwing temper tantrums.

I hate transitions. In conversations I often jump from one unrelated point to another, and become frustrated when a friend or co-worker can't keep up. I received an A- on my high school senior thesis because I forgot to transition from one body paragraph to another. 

Part of the reason that it's been a month since my last blog post is because my life lately has been a series of major transitions. Three weeks ago I moved out of my home on Elizabeth Street and into the apartments above the Word of Life office to participate in Summer Household, a six week summer residential program. Saying goodbye to the women I lived, and sought the Lord with was tough. The move itself was tough, let alone living with nine new women in a space designed for thee. 

Two and a half weeks ago my GAP year officially ended. In a span of 48 hours I parted with part of my identity, twelve of the craziest, sweetest, solid partners in crime I've ever known, and the structure and stability that comes with a clear sense of vision and purpose. The day after my GAP year ended I had my second sob fest since I arrived in August. The first was a reaction to the pain of my ruptured galb bladder. 

What makes this period of transition particularly painful is that there does not appear to be an end in sight. In three weeks I move back to my parent's house for two weeks before I move again into the house I'll be living in for the next year. While I'm adjusting to life in Pittsburgh again I need to find a part-time job, figure out how to locate and afford a used car, and catch up on the relationships I've put on hold for a year. All while trying to rest and prepare myself for the exciting adventure known as your first year of UCO Staff work. 

As I'm processing all of my fears and anxieties about the next several months, I'm reminded of a scripture passage from Jeremiah 29:11

"For I know the plans I have for you says the Lord. Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, 

plans to give you hope and a future."

I do not know what the next several months are going to look like. I do know that the only way to find out is to trust in the Lord and in his plans for my life. I may hate transitions, but my life is a testament to the way in which the Lord can transition the lives of people who are willing. 

NYC: The Perfect Place for a JK Experiment

When I say the word "vacation," what images pop into your head? The beach? Art museums? Airports? Well if you're like me, the word vacation involves traveling to a new place and learning some new things about yourself in the process. Let me share with you a few reflections from my week with The Brotherhood of Hope community in Warren, NJ. 

You may be wondering why I went on vacation at all? Am I not on a GAP year, doing a year of service in Ann Arbor? One of the reasons for doing a GAP year is to explore community life in a community other than your home community. Naturally, our vacation would give us the opportunity to visit with another Sword of the Spirit Community, the Brotherhood of Hope in NJ. 

I stayed in the Saint Paul's Outreach (SPO)'s women's house. SPO is the community's college outreach, similar to UCO except that they work to foster ecumenism in a Catholic setting. I found the women we stayed with to be very gracious and hospitable . All of us enjoyed watching season 1 of Downton Abbey on their big screen TV. On our last night there, we attended their final Spirit Night (prayer meeting) of the semester. It was really cool for me to see that though we have different calls, we can still praise the Lord together. 

Another reason we went to NJ for vacation is because it's about an hour drive from New York City, a perfect place for a JK experiment. JK are my bosses initials. Throughout the year, he's been sending us on unexpected missions that force us work together in interesting ways. Case in point. Back in November, he sent three Americans, two Germans, and a Mexican to the Pittsburgh retreat. In order to get there, we had to navigate the Ohio turnpike and backwoods Pennsylvanian roads. We arrived at the retreat in one piece. The ride back, however, grew from a 6 hour trip to an 12 hour trip as we made a sightseeing detour in Pittsburgh, almost ran out of gas in Lordstown, and stopped at every rest stop on the Ohio turnpike. Many of us consider that trip the highlight of our GAP years.

So why was NYC a JK experiment? The 13 of us could do whatever we wanted for two days. Now it is impossible for 13 people to make a decision about anything, so we had to split into smaller groups. After visiting the World Trade Center Memorial. the guys went to Central Park, and the girls headed to St. Patrick's Cathedral. When there, I slipped into a pew and knew I had a decision to make. 

At that point of the trip, I was feeling pretty cranky. See I'm an introvert, and it's pretty hard to get alone time when you are sharing a bedroom with seven girls. As I sat in the pew, I knew that I could either find another introvert in our group to wander around the city with, or I could stay with the big group and be miserable. Thankfully at that moment, one of my friends approached me and asked me if I wanted to go to New York Public Library with her. For some reason, no one else wanted to go with us, and off we went.

We spent the majority of our time in NYC together visiting New York Public Library, Little Italy, Time's Square, Grand Central Station, Central Park, The Museum of Natural History, Bloomindale's, and Fifth Avenue. Together we learned to navigate the subway, negotiate with street vendors, and the difference between African and Asian mammals. From our time together, I learned that I am not a fly by the seams of your pants kind of person, and that structure and solitude are good things. Overall I'd say that the JK experiment was a success, and definetly one of the highlights of my GAP year. 

If the Calling of Christ Feels Too Big, Then You're Dreaming Too Small

Last night at my house dinner we discussed what each of our eight year old selves dreamed of being when we grew up. The answers ranged from professional soccer player, to princess, to killer whale deep sea diver. Some of my friends are currently living their dreams, some are finding ways to live out new dreams.

I was hesitant to share my answer with the group. See when I was eight, I wanted to be a teacher.  But I didn't want to become a teacher because I wanted to change the world one compound-complex sentence at a time. I wanted to become a teacher because it's what most of the adult women in my life did. Teaching wasn't my dream, but a way for me to limit my dream of becoming a writer.

After dinner my housemates and I attended our last UCO prayer meeting of the year. Interestingly enough, the night's talk was about vision. Specifically how high, deep, and Christ-centered are our visions for our lives? See as Christians, our vision for our life needs to be Christ's vision. Specifically, that we "go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit" (Matthew 28: 19).

What a high vision! But a high vision has not roots without depth. If our vision is to make disciples of all the nations, that vision can and should change the world. In fact, our mission director argued that if my vision for my life does not include changing the world, then it's too small. I therefore need to live according to the belief that God will do big things with my life.

But how do I incorporate a vision for discipleship and evangelism into my daily life? In order for me to be faithful to Christ's big vision for my life, I need to be faithful to the smaller things. For example, do my finances reflect my faithfulness to myself or to my church and community? Is my job helping me fulfill my call to discipleship, or am I just passing time until payday? Am I dressing modestly out of love for my brothers, or out of a need for others to recognize my holiness?

If the calling of Christ feels too big, then you are dreaming too small. Dreams should scare you, and at times feel out too big and out of reach. It's only when we make it our life mission to abide in Christ that we can fulfill our mission to raise a family of disciples capable of leading the next generation to Christ.

Reflections on the Lord's Faithfulness

Last night at our UCO Prayer Meeting, I heard a talk that really hit home with me about the Lord's faithfulness. I'd like to share some of my thoughts and reflections on the Lord's faithfulness and how I see it work in my own life.

What is faithfulness? I confess, I Googled it. Faithfulness means remaining true to one's word, steady in allegiance, unchangeable, and reliable. I again confess, none of the characteristics of faithfulness come easily to me.

While faithfulness does not come easily to me, it does to the Lord. When I think back to three years ago when I made the decision to personally follow Christ, I see the Lord's faithful hand at pruning my life circumstances so that I could better serve him. Me participating in this GAP year is probably the best example of the Lord's faithfulness in my life, because it took years for the Lord to open my heart to the idea.

So why do I struggle with faithfulness given that I follow an always faithful God? I'll give you an example: my service with Asian Outreach (AO). To be faithful to AO often costs me something. We have our Dinners and Bible Studies every Friday night, which means I often have to turn down invitations to other social events. I've also learned that it is simply impossible to whip up an authentic Asian dinner without first spending quality time in the kitchen chopping garlic, ginger, and scallions. Perhaps most difficult is remaining faithful to sharing the gospel with the women in AO. It's the most important aspect of my service, but also the part that brings me the most anxiety and fear.

Earlier in the year as I was sharing these concerns with my supervisor, he said something I've since repeated to myself when I find the call to faithfulness too overwhelming. He said:


"The quality of your service is measured by your faithfulness, not their response; nevertheless, earnestly desire their salvation, as the Lord himself does."


Faithfulness is not merely a Gapper job description, it's a way for me to emulate Christ. Faithfully sharing the gospel with others is part of my call to discipleship, a call I need to take more seriously. For I cannot be Christ's disciple unless I desire to make disciples of all the nations. Yes, being faithful costs me something. But my costs pale in comparison with what it costs the Lord to remain faithful to me.