In-Between Land

Aaah I haven't blogged in forever! There have been even more hundreds of thoughts swirling around in me lately, but I think that the sheer vastness of topics has hindered writing.

Also, I'm realizing more and more that I don't know anything about anything... which is an exciting place to be. I trust myself more here.

But all this does not contribute to blog posts, and I've also been aching to write. Well, enough about me. Let's talk about...

In "The Magician's Nephew (C. S. Lewis)," there is an intriguing land with many pools. Each pool, or puddle, leads to a different world, and characters travel time and space through wearing rings and slipping into these pools.

I don't remember if the land had a name, but I like Jack Johnson's album title: "In Between Dreams." Let's call it the "In-Between Land." I've always felt an affinity for the characters in this place, and can picture the look of it.

If it were music, it would be Peruvian wooden flutes and pipes, with low cello and bass sliding scales... and maybe an accordian. A bland wind blows half-heartedly through eerie space, just enough to chill you into picking a destination. Grey and gray and dirty browns stain the mossy floor, and the sky blankly keeps the seasons secret.

It's been years since I've read the actual book, so I forget how Lewis described it.

In-between worlds. In-between time. No-man's land. transition. pause.

Translation?

Between the motion and the act falls the shadow (T.S. Eliot, "The Hollow Men".).

Airplane rides. Not the ones for vacation but the ones that are the finality of months of labeling boxes and smelling packing tape and quietly observing a life shrinking, by degrees, into __________.

First the books then the less-used clothing then the extra bedding then the cookware (leaving a remnant), then the crafts then the toys then the boxes of superfluity that no one knew existed, then more clothes, then giving away furniture, then the night on a mat and the mad dash for the last items on your bed stand that were almost forgotten because they were so close...

Then the eery time when you brush your teeth in airports for morning, night, and morning.

You glide over "In-Between Land" and fall as the plane's nose gently dips into another pool. Then you continue falling in freeze frame. Living in the pause. It takes time to fully materialize. Does that make any sense?

The whole thing is quite fascinating.

I've spent a good amount of life in the "In-Between Land." I've been told that TCKs disconnect six months before a move. My lease is up in 5 and I'm already saying goodbye to parts of my apartment. I'm already there and can hear the delicately painful music. In a minimal way, of course. I didn't even think that I'd mention it when blogging, but there you go.

I have the sand of nations in my soul... please don't wash it away...

Typically one day a year I ache for every place I've lived and visited and loved--where I just miss EVERYTHING. I've experienced it to a lesser degree each year, but I desperately hope it won't go away. It's not this awful thing; on the contrary, I think it's healthy. It feels like remembering who I am. And an honest grieving that I can't ever go back.

But God is ushering me forward--instead of "The Magician's Nephew," the present and future feels like "The Voyage of the Dawn-Treader", which is probably my favorite. Although it's SO hard to choose.

Instead of passively watching worlds emerge and fade, God is weaving me through all kinds of waters, visiting distant islands and having marvelous adventures. Instead of "In-Between Land" there is a constant Presence upon which I ride; singing under mighty wings and tasting sweet water.

He's been the only one who's always been there, and I know that He is faithful. He's been my rings that slipped me in between worlds. And we've had lots of conversations in "In-Between Land", God and I. Lots of whispers and tears and screams.

Maybe I wouldn't have longed for Him as much otherwise.

Thanks, Jesus. Ni mei tian yao wo, mei tian xiang wo, mei tian ai wo.

the Best Week

Last week was one of the best weeks of the year for me.  Probably the best week, other than this week when I'm in CA with Steph.  That sounds so sad--it's not that I don't like CO Springs.  Quite the contrary; I feel blessed to live in such a beautiful place and to be discovering what God has for me there... it's truly exciting.... but this past year has been pretty much excruciating, and something to be gotten through.

But last week I got to teach a group of MKs (missionary kids) and help them re-adjust to American culture for their year-long furlough (when their families come back to their 'home' culture and visit family and churches and raise support).  Basically, we do a Bible study/lesson and a TCK (third culture kid) activity and then go somewhere in the afternoon, with lots of games in between.

It's less teaching and more hanging out, getting to know them, and having fun together.  Madeleine L'Engle talks about giving your ontological self, or sharing your ousia... hehehe that sounds so weird.  But what she means (in a nutshell) is you can only offer the essence of who you are.  And especially in a situation like last week, it's all about being able to say, "Yeah, me too," or sharing your own cross cultural stories.  Just providing a place to share stories with people who want to listen is so important and surprisingly rare.

Getting back to ousia--whatever you say or teach doesn't communicate as clearly as who you are.  That's why mentorship is so powerful; we want the other person to rub off on us.  Like following a rabbi so closely that the dust from his sandals covers you.

And that's why it hurts so much when a person we admired trips up.  Because it wasn't just their teaching or eloquent ideas that bettered us; it was their being themselves.  

Their faithfulness and steadfast commitment to purity made us all stronger.

In more cosmic terms, and because I love L'Engle, it adds to the good in the universe (oh what a hippie am I).

And in the words of Elton John, "How wonderful life is now you're in the world."  Maybe that's taking it out on a limb, but it's a good song.  Had to throw it in somewhere. :)

I love the idea that we're all connected, and anything that reveals that connection irresistibly draws me.

That's why last week was so powerful; I was connected to the global church in a way I'd been deeply missing.  When we worshiped every morning and chatted with families during meals, I had the privilege of being directly linked to what God was doing in Vietnam, in Cambodia, in the Philippines... you name it.  

And the kids--I just loved hanging out with them.  That's the cool thing about TCKs (third culture kids); they don't have a physical home, but they feel at home as they connect with each other.  Whether they grew up in deepest darkest Africa or in a crowded Asian city, there's an automatic link between them.  

Because we're in between worlds.  Like in "The Magician's Nephew", we continually dip in and out of lands.  I feel like planes are the equivalent of the strange place with the lakes that they went to before they put on a ring and stepped into England or the creation of Narnia. 

I felt like myself.  So much so that I didn't notice it until afterwards; during the week I was exhausted and hoping that the lessons and activities went well and if we remembered the granola bars for Red Rocks and all that.  But for a few moments, I recognized that I would rather be here with these people doing this than anywhere else doing anything else.

I'm trying to catch more of those moments.  

For the past couple of months I've been more aware of those times and thanked God for them--because He is always there in them.  They've mostly been at Revival Town, a prayer meeting of New Life on Tuesday nights.  In worship.

Well I need to stop because tomorrow's going to be cramful of those moments and I don't want to miss any because I'm sleepy.  It's a paradox, I think (well pretty much everything is--safe guess):  you are truly yourself and live when you intentionally realize what a blessing people, little things, and GOD is, and also when you aren't paying attention and forget about yourself.

Ok seriously.  sleep.