Ugh. I find this sadness overwhelming and debilitating. I know I just wrote about it, but there's only three weeks left now (less than that actually, if you get down to the exact amount of days), and I can't help but think about leaving. I just want to hug everyone. But that might be awkward. I can't just go around hugging people at random times now, can I?
And for any Australians who might stumble upon this, I'm going to miss you. This isn't going to be my goodbye speel or anything. If you would like to hang out more, just ask! Also, I basically will not have a life the last week I am here because of the play. Seriously. The last three days I will be in Australia will be consumed with the play. I will most likely be setting up camp at Wesley.
Fun thing I did today: learned to play Falling Slowly [from Once] on the piano! Thanks Ben! That and watched Friday Night Lights. Yessss.
LOST. I am two-thirds through the season so if anyone ruins it for me, they are going dowwwwnnnnn.
Katie Funk and I went to a Nazarene church in Enmore on Sunday. We thought it started at 11.
It did not. That's right, we walked in an hour late to a congregation of 30 people. Fantastic. Met up with the head of compassionate ministries, David Harris [thanks Laura!] and got to have lunch with him and his family. We talked about Youth In Mission in Australia. Who knows? Maybe I could return here with the Nazarene Church, yeah?
Anyways, most of the big writing assignments are over. I just have one more reflection essay left, and that one is due on Monday (MY BIRTHDAY).
Speaking of birthdays, I'd like to give a shout out to my dear friend, Chris McGrady! Happy birthday!!! You are twenty & I will soon join you!
Tomorrow, I will be going to one of the State of Origin games. The State of Origin is a series of three Rugby League games where the best players from Queensland and New South Wales get together and face off. It's quite ridiculous though. I have found about two Aussies that live here that are actually supporting their NSW Blues! I can't believe it. And why? Because the Queenslander's are a better team. Wow.
If the Philly Eagles were having a better season than the Cowboys, do you think I would ever begin to even start thinking about cheering for them? NO way Jose.
Today, we (ASCers) went to NSW State Parliament House. Rev. Hon. Dr. Senator Gordan Moyes spoke with us. This guy is pretty impressive (and he knows it). He looked like a typical U.S. Republican Senator actually. Tallish, round, double-breasted suit, with a grey combover, and a confident demeanor. He was so confounding. How do I explain it without being offensive? I expected him to be a super conservative right-wing politician. He's known as THE Christian representative in Parliament, and I have always identified those people in the States to be Republicans. And how wrong is that? You might be saying, how is that wrong? That's the way it is! With what the Democrats believe, how could they be strong Christian leaders in politics? (And now I'm afraid of offending the left-wing.) And that's not what I believe at all. It might have been how I used to think. I think there are Christian leaders on both sides (to tell you the truth, I couldn't name any major ones. I haven't been keeping up with anything.), but I still think the political parties are emphasized way too much. Look at the UK. They're combining parties to make a better government. Now could that ever happen in the States?
This man has over 3 decades of ministry service under his belt, with massive church building and major focus and attention to the impoverished and underprivileged and social justice. He does not identify himself with either political party. He votes how he thinks is right; he works with both parties. He keeps the families and underprivileged in mind when he makes those decisions.
And I think that's how it should be. Christians should be involved in politics and the government. But that does not mean they let their political party frame their major or religious decisions. On the contrary, the love of Christ should be the basis for all of their judgments whether it conflicts with a certain party or not.
Big sigh.
There's a birthday package sitting under my desk from my family. I'm not opening it until my birthday, but the temptation is beginning to break me down.
Much love to my family and friends. I miss you all.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Sunday, May 9, 2010
An incredible sadness just swept over me as I was reading today. People keep on asking me if I've been homesick at all, but I'm at the point where I'm feeling sick about leaving here.
I've got five weeks left in Australia, which is basically four, because up until the last day I'm here, I'll be in rehearsal that last week.
And that sucks.
By the way, Happy Mother's Day Mommmmmmmm!
I hope you have a wonderful day. I love you & I miss you SO much. Thank you for all that you are and do.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
It's Been A While.
A long while.
I've been so busy. I'm so tired.
I just wanted to write this to say that I miss you all. I love being here SO much, but there are moments where I wish I could just get a hug from family or friends. And some cheese enchiladas.
We are going to hike in the Blue Mountains tomorrow. That's Australia's main mountain range. When people say "We're going to the snow" (and yes, they really say it like that, like it's a destination--I find it quite endearing), they usually mean somewhere in the Blue Mountains. It's going to be a 5 hour hike. Terrific adventure I'm sure. Did I mention it's getting really cold here? The weather is quite fickle though. Can't seem to make up its mind.
I saw Regina Spektor in concert last week. Oh yeaaaahhhhh. Be jealous. You should totally be jealous. Our seats were stage left in the second row. It was elevated above the stage (like a box seat) and when she played the piano, she was basically looking right at us. Oh, and did I mention it was at the Sydney Opera House? Oh yeaaaaaahhhh. Fantastic experience. She's so talented. And the drummer she brought along was excellent. He was actually part of the opening act, Jupiter One, who we actually met after the show. (Oh yeaaaaaaaahhh.) We were so hyped about just having seen Regina. They came out and this is how it went.
"OH MY GOSH HIIIII!"
"Hey guys!"
"WE'RE AMERICANSSS! WE'RE AMERICANS TOO!!!" (gestures and maybe some giddy jumping were most likely used at this time)
"Oh yah? Cool cool! Where are you guys from?"
April and I shouted over everyone, "TEXAS!"
"Oh we just came from Texas! Played at the Southwest by West (or something like that) festival. Best four days of my life!"
That's right. You heard him. Best four days of his life spent deep in the heart of Texas. Drink it up.
Now that I've got my Texas pride out, I'll tell you some of the differences here in a quick and incomplete list because, hey, I've got to sleep sometime.
1. They say heaps. A lot.
2. They add hey onto the end of sentences and at random times. For example: You're
going out tonight hey?
3. Oi is another way to get someone's attention.
4. Mcdonald's = Macca's
5. The bacon is more like ham, but still delicious.
6. The accent. We may both speak English, but it's not always comprehensible.
7. Football. They don't wear pads here.
8. The seasons. In case some of you haven't caught on yet, I'm in the southern
hemisphere right now, and it's getting cold.
9. Biscuits. They're not a breakfast food, and they are not good with gravy or bacon. You know why? Because they're cookies. Cookies = Biscuits. They don't even really have biscuits here. They have scones (which are quite good).
10. Not only do they drive on the left side of the road, they prefer to walk on the left side as well. For the first time last week, I did this without thinking.
11. The lack of Mexican food. Like what the heck? As funny as this is, this is one of the things that makes me recognize that Australia is NOT America. Yes, it's been quite Americanized, but that does not mean it will ever border Mexico, or have a large Hispanic population.
12. Internal heating. Most places don't have it, including my room. My room also has an open fireplace and chimney, that I can't use.
13. Thrift stores. They're called op shops. Or salvos.
14. Trees. They're mostly not deciduous. They have some eucalyptus ones that remind me of mesquite trees, without the thorns, and a lot taller. They're also good for making confetti (too hard to explain, but quite fun).
15. Politics. No specific party is ingrained and integrated into their Christianity, which is how it should be.
Let's talk about indigenous peoples. We've been focusing a lot of attention on the Australian Aboriginals, but have you thought about our indigenous peoples? I think we need to re examine how they are treated by culture, the government, and the church. Robert Twiss-One Church Many Tribes. Read it.
Love you. Miss you.
I've been so busy. I'm so tired.
I just wanted to write this to say that I miss you all. I love being here SO much, but there are moments where I wish I could just get a hug from family or friends. And some cheese enchiladas.
We are going to hike in the Blue Mountains tomorrow. That's Australia's main mountain range. When people say "We're going to the snow" (and yes, they really say it like that, like it's a destination--I find it quite endearing), they usually mean somewhere in the Blue Mountains. It's going to be a 5 hour hike. Terrific adventure I'm sure. Did I mention it's getting really cold here? The weather is quite fickle though. Can't seem to make up its mind.
I saw Regina Spektor in concert last week. Oh yeaaaahhhhh. Be jealous. You should totally be jealous. Our seats were stage left in the second row. It was elevated above the stage (like a box seat) and when she played the piano, she was basically looking right at us. Oh, and did I mention it was at the Sydney Opera House? Oh yeaaaaaahhhh. Fantastic experience. She's so talented. And the drummer she brought along was excellent. He was actually part of the opening act, Jupiter One, who we actually met after the show. (Oh yeaaaaaaaahhh.) We were so hyped about just having seen Regina. They came out and this is how it went.
"OH MY GOSH HIIIII!"
"Hey guys!"
"WE'RE AMERICANSSS! WE'RE AMERICANS TOO!!!" (gestures and maybe some giddy jumping were most likely used at this time)
"Oh yah? Cool cool! Where are you guys from?"
April and I shouted over everyone, "TEXAS!"
"Oh we just came from Texas! Played at the Southwest by West (or something like that) festival. Best four days of my life!"
That's right. You heard him. Best four days of his life spent deep in the heart of Texas. Drink it up.
Now that I've got my Texas pride out, I'll tell you some of the differences here in a quick and incomplete list because, hey, I've got to sleep sometime.
1. They say heaps. A lot.
2. They add hey onto the end of sentences and at random times. For example: You're
going out tonight hey?
3. Oi is another way to get someone's attention.
4. Mcdonald's = Macca's
5. The bacon is more like ham, but still delicious.
6. The accent. We may both speak English, but it's not always comprehensible.
7. Football. They don't wear pads here.
8. The seasons. In case some of you haven't caught on yet, I'm in the southern
hemisphere right now, and it's getting cold.
9. Biscuits. They're not a breakfast food, and they are not good with gravy or bacon. You know why? Because they're cookies. Cookies = Biscuits. They don't even really have biscuits here. They have scones (which are quite good).
10. Not only do they drive on the left side of the road, they prefer to walk on the left side as well. For the first time last week, I did this without thinking.
11. The lack of Mexican food. Like what the heck? As funny as this is, this is one of the things that makes me recognize that Australia is NOT America. Yes, it's been quite Americanized, but that does not mean it will ever border Mexico, or have a large Hispanic population.
12. Internal heating. Most places don't have it, including my room. My room also has an open fireplace and chimney, that I can't use.
13. Thrift stores. They're called op shops. Or salvos.
14. Trees. They're mostly not deciduous. They have some eucalyptus ones that remind me of mesquite trees, without the thorns, and a lot taller. They're also good for making confetti (too hard to explain, but quite fun).
15. Politics. No specific party is ingrained and integrated into their Christianity, which is how it should be.
Let's talk about indigenous peoples. We've been focusing a lot of attention on the Australian Aboriginals, but have you thought about our indigenous peoples? I think we need to re examine how they are treated by culture, the government, and the church. Robert Twiss-One Church Many Tribes. Read it.
Love you. Miss you.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Easter Sunday
He is Risen!
He is Risen indeed!
Even though I have barely begun my large reading due this week, I just had to write about today.
I will still write about my trip to Melbourne sometime, but this for now.
It was my first Easter without my family, which was sad, but I rejoice with them and other believers throughout all time and space today in Christ's death and resurrection!
This morning, to fulfill an assignment for our View from Australia class, Carissa and I went to St. Mary's Catholic Church. It was quite an experience, as I had never actually been to a mass like that; I've only attended a Catholic funeral and a small chapel service. St. Mary's is a large and beautiful cathedral in downtown Sydney near Hyde Park and some other historical buildings.
Carissa and I strategically sat near the back, knowing we would have no idea what to do, and thus deciding to be a part of the ripple/wave effect that would happen with the crowd.
We did most of the things right: knelt before entering the pew and crossed ourselves at the appropriate times. Ok, well, that took me a few times to get. I looked quite foolish with my eyes dashing about trying to figure out the whole thing.
The service was pretty liturgical. I wish I knew more about the way they worship so I could have been more involved. It was all very unfamiliar to me. I was comforted with the fact that many of the people there were only there a few times a year, and therefore probably had no idea what they were doing either.
That's not a factual statement, but it's typical. Judgmental? Probably. Forgive me.
Anyway, we had to deny the communion since we aren't Catholic, so that was a downer. But hey, we got sprinkled with holy water. (I'm sorry, was that irreverent? I really don't mean it to be. Just trying to keep the mood light.)
Tonight, I went to Hillsong's Easter Service at the Sydney Entertainment Centre. It was actually an art and film festival, and was really wonderful. In the entry way part of the centre, there was artwork and some short films displayed. Most of the artwork was pretty cheesed up. I respect what the artists have strived for and achieved. Some of them were really beautiful, but, slapping on a Bible verse or title to an artwork, like "faith", "Jesus loves us", or even "faith, hope, and love" just doesn't….How do I say it? Just because it's a Christian event doesn't mean it has to be that way. The short films displayed out there were all full of five minute stories with 30 second answers basically saying Jesus can fix all your problems in a jiffy. (And I'm not saying Jesus isn't The Healer or the one that can fill our void.)
I think these can be powerful tools and can reach people. But I've been having this conversation with some people, and by no means is this an original thought, but, I feel that the most powerful things we can create are things that display truth and light, thus reflecting God and his majesty, without this commercial Christianity.
Courtney and I were specifically talking about films one day. We had just sat through a Church service where there was a guy who did film reviews for the congregation and presented a review every now and then. He chose to do it on a particular movie made by a particular church in the south in America. And I think their efforts are very noble and powerful. The storyline kind of went like this: a used car salesman has an old classic, but it won't run correctly because it's missing an essential part. We then see the parallel with his life. It just isn't running right--marriage is a mess, bad relationship with his kids, etc. He's missing an essential part. And I think you can see where the rest leads.
There's a different approach to reach the world.
We recognize that the film industry has a great influence in people's lives, whether they realize it or not and whether they like it or not. Films shape our worldviews, our perceptions on life, sometimes without us even realizing it (not that I encourage mindless entertainment or the absence of reflection). How much more powerful would it be to present ideas to the world through stories, stories that make people think and wonder and question and reflect. Good stories. And that doesn't mean they all end happily ever after with Jesus in a pretty wrapped box with a bow under the tree.
The service started with worship, and being led by the Hillsong worship team, it was of course amazing. Loved it. Then different leaders spoke between short films that creators had made for the evening and sent in. They were wonderful.
One of them was a music video, but performed live. They sang Arcade Fire's "Wake Up". Let me just tell you, Courtney and I went wild. Totally got into it.
Another film was a short documentary about a man and his dog, and how this dog's unconditional love had taught him about God and life. His dog was on the verge of death, and he had to put him down with his wife. Before it happened he was already a wreck, on the phone in tears. And it was at this point in the night where I broke down bawling. I was weeping, shaking with emotion, as I watched this man take his dog to the vet with his wife. It showed them in their last embrace with the dog, crying their eyes out. Court heard me sniffling and offered her hand to my sweaty palm. Good friend.
It was a fantastic service, a celebration of God's creativity and the ways we can worship him through creativity. So glad I got to be a part of it.
And now I'm off to the outback for the week. Pray for me. Bugs, heat, greasy bangs.
"Hell took a body, and discovered it was God. It took earth, and encountered Heaven. It took what it saw, and was overcome by what it could not see. O death, where is your sting? O Hell, where is your victory? Christ is Risen, and you, O death, are destroyed! Christ is Risen and evil is cast down! Christ is Risen, and angels rejoice! Christ is Risen, and new life is set free! Chris is Risen, and the tomb is emptied of its dead! For Christ having risen from the dead, becomes the first fruit of those who have fallen asleep. To Him be Glory and Power forever and ever. Amen!"
-St. John Chrysostom
He is Risen indeed!
Even though I have barely begun my large reading due this week, I just had to write about today.
I will still write about my trip to Melbourne sometime, but this for now.
It was my first Easter without my family, which was sad, but I rejoice with them and other believers throughout all time and space today in Christ's death and resurrection!
This morning, to fulfill an assignment for our View from Australia class, Carissa and I went to St. Mary's Catholic Church. It was quite an experience, as I had never actually been to a mass like that; I've only attended a Catholic funeral and a small chapel service. St. Mary's is a large and beautiful cathedral in downtown Sydney near Hyde Park and some other historical buildings.
Carissa and I strategically sat near the back, knowing we would have no idea what to do, and thus deciding to be a part of the ripple/wave effect that would happen with the crowd.
We did most of the things right: knelt before entering the pew and crossed ourselves at the appropriate times. Ok, well, that took me a few times to get. I looked quite foolish with my eyes dashing about trying to figure out the whole thing.
The service was pretty liturgical. I wish I knew more about the way they worship so I could have been more involved. It was all very unfamiliar to me. I was comforted with the fact that many of the people there were only there a few times a year, and therefore probably had no idea what they were doing either.
That's not a factual statement, but it's typical. Judgmental? Probably. Forgive me.
Anyway, we had to deny the communion since we aren't Catholic, so that was a downer. But hey, we got sprinkled with holy water. (I'm sorry, was that irreverent? I really don't mean it to be. Just trying to keep the mood light.)
Tonight, I went to Hillsong's Easter Service at the Sydney Entertainment Centre. It was actually an art and film festival, and was really wonderful. In the entry way part of the centre, there was artwork and some short films displayed. Most of the artwork was pretty cheesed up. I respect what the artists have strived for and achieved. Some of them were really beautiful, but, slapping on a Bible verse or title to an artwork, like "faith", "Jesus loves us", or even "faith, hope, and love" just doesn't….How do I say it? Just because it's a Christian event doesn't mean it has to be that way. The short films displayed out there were all full of five minute stories with 30 second answers basically saying Jesus can fix all your problems in a jiffy. (And I'm not saying Jesus isn't The Healer or the one that can fill our void.)
I think these can be powerful tools and can reach people. But I've been having this conversation with some people, and by no means is this an original thought, but, I feel that the most powerful things we can create are things that display truth and light, thus reflecting God and his majesty, without this commercial Christianity.
Courtney and I were specifically talking about films one day. We had just sat through a Church service where there was a guy who did film reviews for the congregation and presented a review every now and then. He chose to do it on a particular movie made by a particular church in the south in America. And I think their efforts are very noble and powerful. The storyline kind of went like this: a used car salesman has an old classic, but it won't run correctly because it's missing an essential part. We then see the parallel with his life. It just isn't running right--marriage is a mess, bad relationship with his kids, etc. He's missing an essential part. And I think you can see where the rest leads.
There's a different approach to reach the world.
We recognize that the film industry has a great influence in people's lives, whether they realize it or not and whether they like it or not. Films shape our worldviews, our perceptions on life, sometimes without us even realizing it (not that I encourage mindless entertainment or the absence of reflection). How much more powerful would it be to present ideas to the world through stories, stories that make people think and wonder and question and reflect. Good stories. And that doesn't mean they all end happily ever after with Jesus in a pretty wrapped box with a bow under the tree.
The service started with worship, and being led by the Hillsong worship team, it was of course amazing. Loved it. Then different leaders spoke between short films that creators had made for the evening and sent in. They were wonderful.
One of them was a music video, but performed live. They sang Arcade Fire's "Wake Up". Let me just tell you, Courtney and I went wild. Totally got into it.
Another film was a short documentary about a man and his dog, and how this dog's unconditional love had taught him about God and life. His dog was on the verge of death, and he had to put him down with his wife. Before it happened he was already a wreck, on the phone in tears. And it was at this point in the night where I broke down bawling. I was weeping, shaking with emotion, as I watched this man take his dog to the vet with his wife. It showed them in their last embrace with the dog, crying their eyes out. Court heard me sniffling and offered her hand to my sweaty palm. Good friend.
It was a fantastic service, a celebration of God's creativity and the ways we can worship him through creativity. So glad I got to be a part of it.
And now I'm off to the outback for the week. Pray for me. Bugs, heat, greasy bangs.
"Hell took a body, and discovered it was God. It took earth, and encountered Heaven. It took what it saw, and was overcome by what it could not see. O death, where is your sting? O Hell, where is your victory? Christ is Risen, and you, O death, are destroyed! Christ is Risen and evil is cast down! Christ is Risen, and angels rejoice! Christ is Risen, and new life is set free! Chris is Risen, and the tomb is emptied of its dead! For Christ having risen from the dead, becomes the first fruit of those who have fallen asleep. To Him be Glory and Power forever and ever. Amen!"
-St. John Chrysostom
Monday, March 29, 2010
What's Going On
So sorry to have taken such a long time to chuck another blog out. It's gonna be a lengthy one.
There are birds outside making whistling noises. You know, that whistle that dirty men make when a pretty lady passes by?
Last weekend, we went to Canberra, the national capital. There's not much to the city except for neighborhoods, museums, and the two parliament buildings. In two short days, we hit all the museums. First, we went to the new Parliament House. It sits in a hill opposite the National War Memorial Museum. Earth is actually on top of the building, to remind those it holds within that the government is not above the people. It's composed of straight and strong lines except for the contrasting Aboriginal artwork that is the forecourt mosaic. The design was done by Tjakamarra, a well-known Aboriginal artist. While researching for a "local Aboriginal report", I found that a few years after it was laid in the concrete, he returned to Parliament House and symbolically removed the meaning from it. He did this because some Aboriginal rights were being abused and the artwork, while right outside the Parliament House, was not making an impact inside. (Ok, I know that description of what happened sounded vague and confusing, but I couldn't find the original article I got the information from.)
We couldn't actually go into Parliament House because of time constraints, but we did have time to take photos outside it and for one of our group to roll down the sloping grassy hill, only to be reprimanded by Kimberley.
After a quick bathroom break at the House, we set out for the Indonesian Embassy. We passed the Chinese Embassy, the Swedish one, the Mexican one, and on our way out, the American and British one. Each Embassy section took on the traditional design of their country. The American one was pointed out as being the one at the highest point on the hill. Haha, typical.
I really enjoyed all the information we got that day, but to be honest, I was fighting the downward motion of my eyelids the whole day. I was struggling to keep the speakers in focus. The reason for this exhaustion was the fact that we had woken up at 4 ish to get to the school by 6.
At the Indonesian Embassy, we learned mostly about the bilateral relationship between their country and Australia and about education. They didn't mention any of the hostility or tension in their relationship that has been present for the past couple of decades. Not that I can say I know too much about that though. The country's motto is "A million friends and no enemies". What would it look like for the US to have this motto? Would that be possible? And how could we make that possible?
Anyways, after we had some delightful egg/noodle/spicy/butdelicious rolls, we headed out to the New Zealand High Commission. It's called a High Commission because it's part of the Commonwealth. We were greeted with a Maori song (the Maori people [pronounced mowry-as in "ow, that hurt"] are the indigenous inhabitants of NZ). Courtney and I were especially excited to see some kiwi's (and that's said with the utmost respect. we just think the fact that they're called that is hilarious.) We started quoting Flight of the Concords, and that woke me up a little. The speaker talked to us about New Zealand and how it had to work hard to be noticed and be able to have a voice at the national table. I think it's doing a pretty good job.
The last stop of the day was the Aboriginal Embassy. Which doesn't actually exist. In 1972, Aboriginals that were fed up with the government and how they were being treated (or not treated) set up camp in front of the old Parliament House (which at that time, was not old) in protest. Their land rights were being abused. They were booted off a couple of times, but the Aboriginal Tent Embassy has remained to this day. Signs of protest are scattered about the area, and the inhabitants live with nature in tents off to the side. In the center, there is a "fire for justice" that is always burning. It was started in 1993 and represents early efforts of activists and the continuous fight for Aboriginal sovereignty.
When we got there, a woman named Auntie Jude, who has been living there for the past few years, came out to speak to us. She spoke about her life and what the Tent Embassy was for. She was part of the stolen generation. She was raised in a white family. Watching her tell her story was such a powerful experience. You could hear the hurt, frustration, anger, and sadness pouring out of her voice. The lines on her face and the look in her eyes told us a story. She was speaking out of her heart, not an angry agenda. The stolen generation, even if their situation was made "better" by their removal from their family (which is hard to believe), still had to struggle with identity crisis and confusion. Where were their roots?
At the end, she had us circle around the fire and throw eucalyptus leaves on it. We then proceeded to walk around it so that we could smell the smoke.
That night, we had a discussion about the day and anti-Americanism. It was really interesting. It was a time of searching as well as self-reflection. We analyzed "American Idiot" by Greenday and John Mayer's "Waiting on the World to Change". We discussed how we could change the world, rising above being overwhelmed and discouraged and then actually taking action.
I was totally involved in the discussion, but to keep my mind from totally wandering, I proceeded to doodle (draw that is. but don't say that in Australia. It's a naughty word.) and drew some crazy koalas and a doggy (which proceeded to bring tears to my eyes which I quickly swept away) on the page we later had to turn in. I obviously didn't realize we had to turn them in until after. Before I handed my pages in, I informed Kimberley that I in fact did pay attention and was involved in the discussion. She laughed.
I was feeling down about Bridget, but luckily I have an awesome room mate who gave me hugs.
Groups formed to play games or go out, and I chose to be at the poker table (yesss). Good ole Texas Hold 'em. I was forced to bail due to fatigue, but I was on my way to victory. Ok, well, at least I wasn't in the bottom two. Durr would be proud. I went all in a couple of times at the end--what I called my kamikaze move--so I could get out of it, and ended up winning. Figures.
I left all my toiletries at home, no shampoo, conditioner, face wash, toothbrush (somehow my tooth paste had made it in the bag), and contact solution or case. I was roughing it (yes, I know that's not really roughing it…for some).
The next morning we went to the National Portrait Gallery. We were rushed through, which I did not like. There were people waiting in a tremendously long line for a French painters exhibit featuring Gauguin, Van Gogh, and Cezanne. The wait was up to four hours. We did not go to this exhibit, unfortunately, but I'm glad we did not have to wait.
We left there to go to the National Museum. It had heaps of historical exhibits with artifacts and information. There was a whole section about the first Australians and was all about Aboriginals, their culture, and civil rights movements. The museum was big with wide open spaces and right by the big man made lake in Canberra.
We then went back to the National Gallery. From there, we went to the National War Memorial. It's one of the largest memorials in the world. Grandpa (aka Papa) would have loved it. Dad would have loved it too. It was a museum as well and much of the information was about the two world wars. There was an epic informational video about planes in the Great War, made by the guy that did Lord of the Rings.
After the memorial closed, we rolled out on our Gerringong bus (pronounced with a soft g. Someone at Flo made fun of me when I said it wrong. That happens a lot here, but I just inform them that they are, in fact, saying it the wrong way.)
And now, after another week has gone by, I am setting out on another adventure to Melbourne. I booked my flight at the last second for $15.00. No lies. I am meeting up with a group of girls from the program, and we're going to explore the city!
I feel so blessed to be here every day, surrounded by wonderful people, and learning so much. I am the same person, but I am changing. I'm growing and discovering things about myself. God's teaching me many things about community and loving people. I'm learning to see his children through his eyes, and to see how beautiful they are.
One thing's for sure, I definitely still hate cockroaches. In fact, one just fell from the bottom of Carissa's vanity to the floor with a thud. The room's been making settling noises throughout the day, but when I looked over from where the sound came, I saw something on the floor. Not letting myself be too shaken, I assumed it was a leaf, but got up to investigate nevertheless (nevertheless-what a great word. it totally cheats the English language-putting three separate words together in one long one. ha, I bet Shakespeare made it up). And as I sprung up from my bed, it scurried across the floor towards the fireplace. It thought it could evade me, but alas! I quickly grabbed my thong (they don't call them flip flops here. I sound like an uncool mom every time I say it and giggle every time someone else uses the word.) and pounced upon it in a flash. Though its insides seeped from its sides, it continued to scurry about. I picked up my thong again, and with one final blow, I ended that lowest-of-the-low-scum-that-crawls-the-earth's life. Amen.
Sorry if the post seems scatter-brained. Can't pretend to be what I'm not.
Leave you with some quotes that have been on the brain this week:
“The people who plant the seeds of movements make a critical decision: they decided to live ‘divided no more.’ They decide no longer to act on the outside in a way that contradicts some truth about themselves that they hold deeply on the inside. They decide to claim authentic selfhood and act it out- and their decisions ripple out to transform the society in which they live, serving the selfhood of millions of others.”
Parker Palmer, Let Your Life Speak
“It’s spring fever. That is what the name of it is. And when you’ve got it, you want - oh, you don’t quite know what it is you do want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so!”
Mark Twain
"Is my way not just? Is it not your ways that are not just?"
Ezekiel 18:25
"You know me, or you think you do. You just don't seem to see, I've been waiting all this time to be something I can't define. So let's cause a scene, clap our hands and stomp our feet, over something. I just gotta get myself over me."
The Format
There are birds outside making whistling noises. You know, that whistle that dirty men make when a pretty lady passes by?
Last weekend, we went to Canberra, the national capital. There's not much to the city except for neighborhoods, museums, and the two parliament buildings. In two short days, we hit all the museums. First, we went to the new Parliament House. It sits in a hill opposite the National War Memorial Museum. Earth is actually on top of the building, to remind those it holds within that the government is not above the people. It's composed of straight and strong lines except for the contrasting Aboriginal artwork that is the forecourt mosaic. The design was done by Tjakamarra, a well-known Aboriginal artist. While researching for a "local Aboriginal report", I found that a few years after it was laid in the concrete, he returned to Parliament House and symbolically removed the meaning from it. He did this because some Aboriginal rights were being abused and the artwork, while right outside the Parliament House, was not making an impact inside. (Ok, I know that description of what happened sounded vague and confusing, but I couldn't find the original article I got the information from.)
We couldn't actually go into Parliament House because of time constraints, but we did have time to take photos outside it and for one of our group to roll down the sloping grassy hill, only to be reprimanded by Kimberley.
After a quick bathroom break at the House, we set out for the Indonesian Embassy. We passed the Chinese Embassy, the Swedish one, the Mexican one, and on our way out, the American and British one. Each Embassy section took on the traditional design of their country. The American one was pointed out as being the one at the highest point on the hill. Haha, typical.
I really enjoyed all the information we got that day, but to be honest, I was fighting the downward motion of my eyelids the whole day. I was struggling to keep the speakers in focus. The reason for this exhaustion was the fact that we had woken up at 4 ish to get to the school by 6.
At the Indonesian Embassy, we learned mostly about the bilateral relationship between their country and Australia and about education. They didn't mention any of the hostility or tension in their relationship that has been present for the past couple of decades. Not that I can say I know too much about that though. The country's motto is "A million friends and no enemies". What would it look like for the US to have this motto? Would that be possible? And how could we make that possible?
Anyways, after we had some delightful egg/noodle/spicy/butdelicious rolls, we headed out to the New Zealand High Commission. It's called a High Commission because it's part of the Commonwealth. We were greeted with a Maori song (the Maori people [pronounced mowry-as in "ow, that hurt"] are the indigenous inhabitants of NZ). Courtney and I were especially excited to see some kiwi's (and that's said with the utmost respect. we just think the fact that they're called that is hilarious.) We started quoting Flight of the Concords, and that woke me up a little. The speaker talked to us about New Zealand and how it had to work hard to be noticed and be able to have a voice at the national table. I think it's doing a pretty good job.
The last stop of the day was the Aboriginal Embassy. Which doesn't actually exist. In 1972, Aboriginals that were fed up with the government and how they were being treated (or not treated) set up camp in front of the old Parliament House (which at that time, was not old) in protest. Their land rights were being abused. They were booted off a couple of times, but the Aboriginal Tent Embassy has remained to this day. Signs of protest are scattered about the area, and the inhabitants live with nature in tents off to the side. In the center, there is a "fire for justice" that is always burning. It was started in 1993 and represents early efforts of activists and the continuous fight for Aboriginal sovereignty.
When we got there, a woman named Auntie Jude, who has been living there for the past few years, came out to speak to us. She spoke about her life and what the Tent Embassy was for. She was part of the stolen generation. She was raised in a white family. Watching her tell her story was such a powerful experience. You could hear the hurt, frustration, anger, and sadness pouring out of her voice. The lines on her face and the look in her eyes told us a story. She was speaking out of her heart, not an angry agenda. The stolen generation, even if their situation was made "better" by their removal from their family (which is hard to believe), still had to struggle with identity crisis and confusion. Where were their roots?
At the end, she had us circle around the fire and throw eucalyptus leaves on it. We then proceeded to walk around it so that we could smell the smoke.
That night, we had a discussion about the day and anti-Americanism. It was really interesting. It was a time of searching as well as self-reflection. We analyzed "American Idiot" by Greenday and John Mayer's "Waiting on the World to Change". We discussed how we could change the world, rising above being overwhelmed and discouraged and then actually taking action.
I was totally involved in the discussion, but to keep my mind from totally wandering, I proceeded to doodle (draw that is. but don't say that in Australia. It's a naughty word.) and drew some crazy koalas and a doggy (which proceeded to bring tears to my eyes which I quickly swept away) on the page we later had to turn in. I obviously didn't realize we had to turn them in until after. Before I handed my pages in, I informed Kimberley that I in fact did pay attention and was involved in the discussion. She laughed.
I was feeling down about Bridget, but luckily I have an awesome room mate who gave me hugs.
Groups formed to play games or go out, and I chose to be at the poker table (yesss). Good ole Texas Hold 'em. I was forced to bail due to fatigue, but I was on my way to victory. Ok, well, at least I wasn't in the bottom two. Durr would be proud. I went all in a couple of times at the end--what I called my kamikaze move--so I could get out of it, and ended up winning. Figures.
I left all my toiletries at home, no shampoo, conditioner, face wash, toothbrush (somehow my tooth paste had made it in the bag), and contact solution or case. I was roughing it (yes, I know that's not really roughing it…for some).
The next morning we went to the National Portrait Gallery. We were rushed through, which I did not like. There were people waiting in a tremendously long line for a French painters exhibit featuring Gauguin, Van Gogh, and Cezanne. The wait was up to four hours. We did not go to this exhibit, unfortunately, but I'm glad we did not have to wait.
We left there to go to the National Museum. It had heaps of historical exhibits with artifacts and information. There was a whole section about the first Australians and was all about Aboriginals, their culture, and civil rights movements. The museum was big with wide open spaces and right by the big man made lake in Canberra.
We then went back to the National Gallery. From there, we went to the National War Memorial. It's one of the largest memorials in the world. Grandpa (aka Papa) would have loved it. Dad would have loved it too. It was a museum as well and much of the information was about the two world wars. There was an epic informational video about planes in the Great War, made by the guy that did Lord of the Rings.
After the memorial closed, we rolled out on our Gerringong bus (pronounced with a soft g. Someone at Flo made fun of me when I said it wrong. That happens a lot here, but I just inform them that they are, in fact, saying it the wrong way.)
And now, after another week has gone by, I am setting out on another adventure to Melbourne. I booked my flight at the last second for $15.00. No lies. I am meeting up with a group of girls from the program, and we're going to explore the city!
I feel so blessed to be here every day, surrounded by wonderful people, and learning so much. I am the same person, but I am changing. I'm growing and discovering things about myself. God's teaching me many things about community and loving people. I'm learning to see his children through his eyes, and to see how beautiful they are.
One thing's for sure, I definitely still hate cockroaches. In fact, one just fell from the bottom of Carissa's vanity to the floor with a thud. The room's been making settling noises throughout the day, but when I looked over from where the sound came, I saw something on the floor. Not letting myself be too shaken, I assumed it was a leaf, but got up to investigate nevertheless (nevertheless-what a great word. it totally cheats the English language-putting three separate words together in one long one. ha, I bet Shakespeare made it up). And as I sprung up from my bed, it scurried across the floor towards the fireplace. It thought it could evade me, but alas! I quickly grabbed my thong (they don't call them flip flops here. I sound like an uncool mom every time I say it and giggle every time someone else uses the word.) and pounced upon it in a flash. Though its insides seeped from its sides, it continued to scurry about. I picked up my thong again, and with one final blow, I ended that lowest-of-the-low-scum-that-crawls-the-earth's life. Amen.
Sorry if the post seems scatter-brained. Can't pretend to be what I'm not.
Leave you with some quotes that have been on the brain this week:
“The people who plant the seeds of movements make a critical decision: they decided to live ‘divided no more.’ They decide no longer to act on the outside in a way that contradicts some truth about themselves that they hold deeply on the inside. They decide to claim authentic selfhood and act it out- and their decisions ripple out to transform the society in which they live, serving the selfhood of millions of others.”
Parker Palmer, Let Your Life Speak
“It’s spring fever. That is what the name of it is. And when you’ve got it, you want - oh, you don’t quite know what it is you do want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so!”
Mark Twain
"Is my way not just? Is it not your ways that are not just?"
Ezekiel 18:25
"You know me, or you think you do. You just don't seem to see, I've been waiting all this time to be something I can't define. So let's cause a scene, clap our hands and stomp our feet, over something. I just gotta get myself over me."
The Format
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
It's Beautiful.
Last week at the gathering, a woman--I think her name was Mary--spoke to us about her journey through life. She wanted to dance, but went to school to be a teacher, because that was practical. She met her husband, moved to the states, had children and taught. After ten years, her family moved back to Australia. She knew she wanted to bring dance back into the Church, but she felt doubtful; she thought that what she wanted to do wasn't meaningful or good enough. She had always struggled with what she wanted to do with her life, but as she returned to Sydney with her passion, God led her to a passage of scripture, Matthew 26:6. In this passage, Jesus is having dinner at Simon the leper's house when a woman comes up to him and pours very expensive perfume/ointment/whatever you want to call it on Jesus' head. Now, the part I want to highlight is the disciples' and Jesus' reactions. The disciples were upset and said it was a waste. Why would this woman waste her time and money on this, when she could have sold the perfume for a good amount of money and, in turn, given it to the poor. That seems like the Christian thing to do. But Jesus' reaction was much different. He said "Why do you trouble the woman? She has done a beautiful thing to me. For you always have to poor with you, but you will not always have me. In pouring this ointment on my body, she has done it to prepare me for burial. Truly, I say to you, wherever this gospel is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will also be told in memory of her." Jesus said that what she did, her act of worship, was beautiful.
When Mary spoke this passage, I fought tears back. Ok, I am an emotional person regardless, but I really needed to hear this message. I've struggled with what I should do with my life, from choosing my major to contemplating my future. How much is enough? What do I give? Should I give away all I have and feed the poor? Should I put all my time and energy into a ministry? Should I become a teacher? And I know the answer is simple: God places a passion in our souls, and we live out that passion with the driving force being that our lives belong to Him. I'm sure Mary knew that too. But the reminder that God loves things that are beautiful, things that are worshipful, was a blessing.
I have these doubts because what I do seems far from those things that are greatly needed and appreciated. I want to tell stories, which sounds silly. How this is going to be manifested, I'm not quite sure yet. Writing, acting, film, scripts, graphic design, art.
It's difficult for me to write or articulate what I feel about all this, well, because, I'm afraid. Fear of failure, self-doubt, insecurities. I have heaps to learn and experience.
Some underestimate the power of stories. The film industry itself may be scoffed at, called pointless or a waste of time. It is the best medium to portray a story, a worldview, humanity in it's most vulnerable form--not hidden in ambiguous words or images. Have you ever watched a film that's made you happy, angry, and sad within 100 minutes? Something that can draw you in that easily and make you display emotions so readily and without shame (you know you bawled in the theatre when you watched Marley & Me) has a powerful force that needs to be acknowledged. It's not just mindless entertainment.
The same goes with books and images as well. Does anyone remember the Harry Potter and Twilight phenomenon? Of course you do, because it's still going on.
I love reading the songs of great writers. No, not music. But the words that sing to your heart--that become part of your heartsong. The rhythm, the rhyme, it's beautiful. They pull at your imagination, they beg you to come into their world, find the meaning of life. They evoke emotion, reason, your spirit. I love it.
And somehow, in some way, I want to be a part of this storytelling.
When Mary spoke this passage, I fought tears back. Ok, I am an emotional person regardless, but I really needed to hear this message. I've struggled with what I should do with my life, from choosing my major to contemplating my future. How much is enough? What do I give? Should I give away all I have and feed the poor? Should I put all my time and energy into a ministry? Should I become a teacher? And I know the answer is simple: God places a passion in our souls, and we live out that passion with the driving force being that our lives belong to Him. I'm sure Mary knew that too. But the reminder that God loves things that are beautiful, things that are worshipful, was a blessing.
I have these doubts because what I do seems far from those things that are greatly needed and appreciated. I want to tell stories, which sounds silly. How this is going to be manifested, I'm not quite sure yet. Writing, acting, film, scripts, graphic design, art.
It's difficult for me to write or articulate what I feel about all this, well, because, I'm afraid. Fear of failure, self-doubt, insecurities. I have heaps to learn and experience.
Some underestimate the power of stories. The film industry itself may be scoffed at, called pointless or a waste of time. It is the best medium to portray a story, a worldview, humanity in it's most vulnerable form--not hidden in ambiguous words or images. Have you ever watched a film that's made you happy, angry, and sad within 100 minutes? Something that can draw you in that easily and make you display emotions so readily and without shame (you know you bawled in the theatre when you watched Marley & Me) has a powerful force that needs to be acknowledged. It's not just mindless entertainment.
The same goes with books and images as well. Does anyone remember the Harry Potter and Twilight phenomenon? Of course you do, because it's still going on.
I love reading the songs of great writers. No, not music. But the words that sing to your heart--that become part of your heartsong. The rhythm, the rhyme, it's beautiful. They pull at your imagination, they beg you to come into their world, find the meaning of life. They evoke emotion, reason, your spirit. I love it.
And somehow, in some way, I want to be a part of this storytelling.
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