Sometimes if I go too long without writing I lose all motivation to even begin to conquer the ever-builidng stacks of thoughts that twitter around in my mind. My favourite quote recently is: "Allow me to lend a machete to your intellectual thicket." - Captain Jack Sparrow, 3rd Pirates.
A thicket seems correct, maybe a jungle, maybe an unsurpassable rainforest.
My life of late has been rich, like a fine cream poured generously into a Milchkaffee. It's been rich with emotion, raw with feelings and a bit of confusion thrown in there - and that is why I dread every key my fingers hit. There's too much to write that I don't know what to write about. So here goes nothing :]
A friend of mine recently encouraged me to continue writing on this blog o' mine (thank you, Mark!), which was delightful because I was pretty positive no one had perused this web page for some time. I write at night, with the window open, coming off of a drive home, a glorious sunset, a sliver of a moon, and a heavy-hearted discussion that has left me a bit empty.
Last month I went home to Germany. I walked those streets filled with memories, I spoke to old neighbours, ordered Schokos mit Sahne, spent hours with dear friends who are more like sisters than ever and hiked through the plush forests, so green it is almost blinding. And yet, what is this place? It feels probably like the most familiar thing I know but it isn't where I was born. It's not where I'm from or one of my passport countries. I felt uncomfortable and foreign when I lived there and longed and pined for it when I left. Going back, it felt comfortable. It felt like a piece of me was back in place. I realized how I'd subconsciously shut off parts of myself in order to blend into a new culture, to fit in to a shape that wasn't my own. And when I was back in Germany, that part of me came flooding back and I remembered and was liberated. How can I describe home? Is it the last place I had grown to be accustomed to? Is it where I am most alive?
It's been almost two years since I moved to Canada. I look, sound, probably act Canadian but I sure don't feel like it. I have to keep reminding myself that I'm still learning, that it's a foreign culture that I'm not used to yet. But it hurts sometimes - when things or people aren't what you think, when it seems so natural and obvious that you should fit in but you stagger backwards, stopping with surprise when you realize again and again that you don't. These people that seem so like me aren't because they are of a completely different culture. I am still learning to meet their needs in their own culture.
Tonight I just wanted to write a sad, melancholic, melodramatic account of my emotional state. Do you ever just want to leave out the silver lining, just be sad and not add any 'buts'? I really wish I could do that but it would be denying what my whole life is based on: the HOPE of Christ. And with that hope comes an understanding of situations, a reconciling to certain events. With that hope comes acceptance, excitement to follow even when you can't remember why you're excited, an eagerness to find contentment because you know there's a reason you're where you are... As dramatic as it sounds, the feeling of not belonging anywhere has been one of the easiest ways to understand Jesus better, to understand what it means to belong to the Kingdom of God. I am thankful for that but that doesn't mean that it doesn't make my cry sometimes or make me write sad blog entries :]
In grade ten I had a vision one night. I was a nurse and I was caring for thousands of people and God said to me, "Heal my people, Katy." Ever since then, it has been my deepest desire to love the unloved and heal any hurt that people carry. Currently I'm deciding between pursuing Nursing or Education. Both are practical ways of helping and healing people, both in different and similar ways. I will await God's guidance but I realized that it doesn't really matter in the end. God has given me a longing that will never be satisfied and whatever I do, that will be my main priority; to heal, whatever that looks like.
So here I am. Perhaps a bit broken myself but I am reminded that my true identity lies in Christ and it doesn't matter where I'm from but how I act where I am and where I lead others to.
For there is no place for me but beside my LORD in Heaven and there is no goal, no aspiration, no desire but to serve God and "heal his people". Luckily, I don't need to have the right passport for that :]
So there it is, the silver lining, the paragraphs that change the tone of the essay, the upward climb after the dip, the hope of salvation.
Besides, too much rich cream is bad for the cholesterol.
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