wrapping it up

i am one step closer to graduating college.

but i would prefer to just say another semester is done :) that seems less scary and less of an invitation to talk about post-graduation plans (they are, um, shall we say, in process?)

the semester ended with a thousand things going on at once and i honestly wasn't sure if i was going to make it through. i am so, so grateful God answered my prayer that i would make it through a tough semester! 

the past week (at home!!) has consisted of sleeping, eating (baked goods, home cooked meals, the possibilities are endless), hanging around the house, christmas-y things like shopping and sitting by the tree, hanging out with lots of people over the age of 75 (working a few shifts!). i love it. 

here's some pictures to capture the end of my semester...

thanksgiving dinner as an almost-complete apt.

my roommates have been one of the biggest gifts to me this semester. i came into school only knowing one of the five girls i would be living with but we clicked quickly as the semester unfolded. we've made pancakes and thanksgiving dinners and cut-and-bake pillsbury cookies, had crazy adventures, survived an over-flowing shower (lowest low point of the semester, perhaps?) laughed ridiculously hard on our living room floor, had sleepovers in each other's rooms, and watched so many good movies together while doing face masks and drinking hot tea. 

i love them SO much 

libby visited me in november! here we are enjoying the end of boston's glorious fall season.

i finished a semester of babysitting for my RD's adorable little baby on tuesday mornings.

my favorite moments are when i pick this little baby up from her crib and she gives me the biggest smile in the world or when we dance to christmas music together (rather, i dance, she watches. our varieties included mariah carey and justin beiber) or when i feed her her bottle and she just lays in my arms (and doesn't fidget! this is a miracle since she is quite squirrely!!)

 thanksgiving in califor-ni-ay with the sisters and grandparents. outing to newport beach was fun and saw such beautiful lights on the palm trees :) 

christmas parties

finishing the semester with some dazzle: winter ball in salem! 

that's our little apartment's christmas tree!! so cute, right? thanks erin! 

MERRY CHRISTMAS!! 

what an artist taught me about losing and finding

my dad has been convincing me to take a theology class since my freshman year of college. and finally gordon created a christian theology class as part of their new core curriculum. thankfully i had room in my schedule this semester to take an elective class and found myself in a large lecture twice a week and a fifteen-person seminar led by a professor. the lectures were certainly interesting and i learned a lot through this class about topics such as community, the Church, the Trinity, etc. but what has blessed me the most was the conversation i had with my seminar professor this morning. a conversation where i left crying, tears coming from my eyes as i walked through the rain, because of the truth that he spoke to me, because of the way his words brought joy and hope to my life - even though what he said wasn't simple, what he said didn't solve my stress or frustration or longing for peace, but he showed me something better.

my professor, who is part of the art department at gordon, talked to our class on monday about how he "does theology" by creating art. he works through the complexities and questions of life through his art work. it's a way of expressing the inexpressible, of trying to communicate what we he doesn't understand, what he can't contain in a box. it's sort of how i feel about trying to write, or express thanks or other emotions in words or actions, or something because i can't contain it.

what spoke to me most was this idea of "losing and finding." my professor is a painter and uses different mediums to create pieces of art that reflect this concept of losing and finding -- he will paint beautiful images and then he will "lose" those images as he covers them up with different colors, maybe a different scene, or a different medium. it's like this process of letting go - of not really having complete control of your art, of what you're creating, but rather letting something bigger than yourself help you create this piece of work.

isn't this losing and finding so much of what life is? not only losing people, but also losing part of ourselves: our ideas of what our future is going to look like, what our relationships are, where our next steps lead, who we are? i see so much truth in this -- so much about losses (both big and small), and what are we finding in that? what are we finding within that process that is often so painful and hard?

my professor asked me the question: do you have a sense of what your vocation is alyssa? and i immediately did the typical: "i don't know i don't know i don't know" (i'm a senior. i think this is what we all say at some point during the course of this year). but his answer was this: that's not really what i meant in the sense of occupational vocation, but your vocation as a person -- who you want to become, who you want to be? what does it mean for you to live a good life?

wow.

i immediately was like "you're so right! and that's what i've been talking with the freshman in my class i TA for about living the good life and not just thinking about this in terms of a job!" but i got ahead of myself and was just thinking about occupation, about what to do.

maybe i need to instead focus on this state of being. yes, i do need to consider jobs and careers and all of that, but i want to just be. and to be a part of this art work that is life, this process of living and in living losing, and even through that loss and pain, believing in a God who calls me to lose in order to find something greater. i'm in the process of learning how to trust in this God who will lead me to something greater than myself -- something full of mystery and wonder -- and a mystery that is good and full of hope and love.

this God is not safe -- my professor said this and i remember listening to my cousin's sermon this summer saying the exact same thing.
but God is good.
i know this in the very depths of my being.

He wants to create with me, to be a part of this painting and to let go of my attempts to achieve knowledge, to get the answers, to understand fully -- but when i let go of this, i will find something greater, i will be a part of a journey, apart of a beautiful piece of art.

my professor quoted TS Eliot's Little Gidding, the last section of The Four Quartets with a piece of art which similarly expresses the concept of losing and finding, and i want to close this post with those words:

With the drawing of the Love and the voice of this Calling

We shall not cease from exploration

And the end of all our exploring

Will be to arrive where we started And know the place for the first time.

Through the unknown, unremembered gate

When the last of the earth left to discover

Is that which was the beginning;

At the source of the longest river

The voice of the hidden waterfall

And the children in the apple tree

Not known, because not looked for

But heard, half-heard, in the stillness

Between two waves of the sea.

Quick now, here, now, always--

A condition of complete simplicity

(Costing not less than everything)

And all shall be well and 

All manner of thing shall be well

When the tongues of flame are in-folded

Into the crowned knot of fire

And the fire and the rose are one.

when "thank you" is too small

i have been learning this year that the word "thank you" is insufficient. it's too short, it's too small, it doesn't convey what i want it to -- and it never will.

i wrote in my journal, in the midst of saying good byes in latin america last april, how i didn't know how to express my thanks. i wrote: "God, what has this region done to my heart? When I first came I was terrified and homesick, and now I don't know how to say good bye and thank you. I don't know how to write what I feel...It is frustrating how I can't adequately say thank you.."

that's part of why i try to blog - i desperately want to articulate - to show in words, actions, expressions what i am feeling, thinking, wrestling with. but isn't it frustrating when the things you want to express just don't seem to come? when you feel tongue-tied and rambly and just incoherent?

but i think the realization that a thank you isn't enough is a gift -- because it's realizing that what you have is bigger than words and actions. it's touched your heart and moved you in ways you can't express. and i am learning that that is okay - actually it's more than okay, it's the best place to be.

i stumble over words when i try to tell people how much i love my major - how much joy i feel as i walk up the stairs of frost to talk to my professors about discussions inside or outside of class, how even after endless hours of writing papers and reading books, there's still this sense of wonder and excitement as i write about the communist manifesto, about capitalism, about things that truly matter and i see their relevancy in everyday life. i can't express my thanks to those professors - those people i saw this week sitting with me at a debate about free enterprise (is it moral?) -- still living and teaching and learning what it means to be faithful and to care about the things God cares about.

i stumble over the words to express my gratitude for relationships - for the people who care for me..the people who chat over warm cups of coffee or baked goods or walks in the woods or laughing on the floor. the people who have walked alongside me for so many years or the people who just recently entered my life, always willing and eager to encourage and support no matter where i am.

so i say "thanks" or "thank you" and part of me feels a little frustrated, a little anxious that i can't make the word bigger...maybe i'll say it with tears or with chocolate or a gift or a card, but it's still inadequate, still less than what i want it to be.

Isaiah 58:21 "And this is my covenant with them, says the Lord. My Spirit will not leave them, and neither will these words I have given you. They will be on your lips and on the lips of your children and your children's children forever. I, the Lord, have spoken!"

His Spirit never leaves me
His promises and truth and love will be on our lips

this is why i am thankful - because it's in these moments, living life with these people, hearing their words, telling my own story and receiving their hugs that i see and hear truth and love. i see and experience this truth like a little candle in the window of a new england cottage. it is dark outside, it's winter and i see too little of the sun, but there's these little candles glimmering amidst the darkness - giving me hope, giving me courage, and giving me truth.

i can't say thank you adequately to a God who shines hope in darkness - and chooses to do so through people and places and studies. but perhaps what He wants me to do right now is to dwell in his presence and to reflect on these moments of truth, the flickering candle in the cottage window.

Emmanuel, God with us. i want to dwell in that blessing of light.

http://www.androlib.com/appscreenmax/txBnF.u.cs.png

snippets of thanks

just a few of the many things i am thankful for...

sisters

family 

new friends -- and twitter (@allisonharp to @lyssaclaires - that's how we do it), facebook, ramling/ranting emails, long phone conversations/skype dates, sharing recipes, and snail mail to keep in touch with each other

emails from papi

things like granola that bridge your first day with your host family -- and you make it the last day you're with them.

for this special place

 for the opportunity to visit new countries that i continue to think about [cuba, nicaragua, costa rica]

family reunions

random moments like these

i am richly blessed.

M&M's for the aisles

when i was little my aunt suggested to my mom that she buy a bag of M&M's and give one little chocolate morsel to me for each aisle in the grocery store. being the chocolate-lover that i already was as a youngin', these little treats apparently kept me fairly silent and a happy camper during our treks to the store (at least i think they worked pretty well - you'll have to talk to my mom to hear the complete truth).


i've grown up and now enjoy going to the grocery store and can do so without chocolate in my mouth. but in a lot of ways, i think i'm still the little girl in the grocery shopping cart, needing little pieces of chocolate along the way to get me through from aisle to aisle. except now it's not getting through aisles in a grocery store, but the days, weeks, and months of life's ups and downs, questions and uncertainties, frustrations and sadness, excitement and worry. sometimes the rain gets me down, and sometimes i just long so deeply to "get it" and am saddened that i don't.

what i find so surprising and wonderful is how God provides the chocolate candies to me in small but significant ways that give me the strength and the courage to persevere and carry on when i feel sort of stuck. it's the long conversations with friends, or the encouraging words from a professor, a short quote, or a peaceful and beautiful run outdoors. that's when i hear God speaking "i care about you and i'm still here."

so when i'm weary or frustrated or trying my hardest to be at peace, i need to wait - wait for God to provide the strength i need, in whatever chocolate-morsel form that comes in :)

the kingdom and NT Wright

this post is dedicated to my cousin scott, who told me to read a book that has changed my life. i am so grateful.

i came home from latin america with a lot of stories, frustrations, questions, some doubts, and maybe most significantly, a lot of fear. i was angry with systems of injustice in the world, but what was more upsetting about it was the overwhelming feeling of hopelessness and a trembling heart of how to engage and what to do in response.

but i knew deep down in my heart that i couldn't live in this way - couldn't live swallowed by fear and hopelessness, couldn't live so far away from joy and love that brings out the best in me - that brings out the best in all of us and allows me to engage and grow and learn and be at peace with that journey.

in conversation with my cousin scott, i bought NT Wright's book Suprised by Hope. i think i mention this book in almost every serious conversation i have with someone about my semester in latin america. i talk about some of my struggles and then i talk about this book and how it affected my perspective and encouraged me to live more fully, more abundantly, and how that was possible through a life committed to Christ.


"The message of Easter is that God’s new world has been unveiled in Jesus Christ and that you’re now invited to belong to it" (252-3) 

 

“Of course, in our incomplete world God’s gentle offer and demand press upon us as fearful things, almost threatening. But God’s offer and demand are neither fearful nor threatening. God in his gentle love longs to set us free from the prison we have stumbled into—the loveless prison where we refuse both the offer and the demand of forgiveness. We are like a frightened bird before him, shrinking away lest this demand crush us completely. But when we eventually yield--when he corners us and finally takes us in his hand—we find to our astonishment that he is infinitely gentle and that his only aim is to release us from our prison, to set us free to be the people he made us to be. But when we fly out into the sunshine, how can we not then offer the same gentle gift of freedom, of forgiveness, to those around us? That is the truth of the resurrection, turned into prayer, turned into forgiveness and remission of debts, turned into love. It is constantly surprising, constantly full of hope, constantly coming to us from God’s future to shape us into the people through whom God can carry out his work in the world” (289)

i am invited to belong to a kingdom
i am invited to be free to be the person He has made me to be
i am invited to let God shape me into someone who can carry out his work in the world

it's an invitation. it's God saying "hey alyssa, do you want to be apart of something wonderful, something really hard and challenging, but something that is the most fulfilling and most satisfying way you can spend your life?" and if i do accept the invitation, if i really let Him direct and guide my path, freedom, hope, and love will flow from my heart just as he has given those very things to me. unfortunately i'll accept the invitation with muddy hands, with a fearful and reluctant heart, with a broken mind, but i'm grateful he accepts those hands, that he loves my heart and mind and is committed to using them - no matter how distant they are from perfect.

the invitation to obedience, to kingdom work is not something i should fear or run away from because it's a bunch of rules or list of obligations or burdens. rather, the invitation is to be apart of something i am created for - something of significance and beauty that my heart longs to be a part of.

in the book of deuteronomy, moses says his people:
 Oh, that you would choose life, so that you and your descendants might live! You can make this choice by loving the Lord your God, obeying him, and committing yourself firmly to him. This is the key to your life" (Deuteronomy 30:19-20) 

maybe what moses was getting at here was that to live abundantly meant to be close to God, and the best way was being close to his commandments in order to live a life pleasing to him. i believe that choosing life and obeying God isn't just an individual relationship with him (while that is still so important), but it's being a part of community, of learning to love and serve people, of studying and running and singing and laughing and eating with friends - because God is present there and i want to get to know him through his people, through the people and places that he loves. i'm suprised to find him there - to find him as i study political science, to find him in the conversations with my apartment-mates, to find him in the breath of fresh new england air as my feet run across crunchy fall leaves.

i have become more convinced of kingdom work, of the great commission to be apart of hope and love on earth now - recognizing its eternal invitation, but responding to that invitation in the ways in which i live my life now. i wish a response to this invitation took away all sadness and brokenness, that it would erase genocide and disease, death and loneliness. i have to wait for that, but i get to be a part of kingdom work while i'm waiting. i am invited to hope, to learn, to laugh, to think, and to draw closer to a God who designed me with a purpose. i hope to respond to this invitation, to participate in this kingdom joyfully, lovingly, and hopefully.

thanks be to God.

because winter is approaching

35°F

Wenham, MA

it's officially back.

the cold new england weather i have been avoiding for the past 10 months.

there are things i love about winter. i love pink rosy cheeks, especially on adorable little kids who are covered head to toe in jackets, scarves, and mittens. there is a remarkable beauty to the way trees can become completely white, and there's something magical about watching snowflakes stick to your dark eyelashes and just sitting still, listening, to the snowfall around you. i love after a snowfall when the sun shines so brightly and everything looks so clean, and white, and lovely..and even though you're cold, you forget that you can't feel your nose or your lips because you're captivated by how beautiful it is.

there's the excitement of waking up at 6:00am to "Gordon College Notification System" saying school has been cancelled for the day because of snow and you put your head back to the pillow for a few more hours and then spend the rest of the day cuddled on your bed or the couch watching TV, drinking hot chocolate, and catching up on work you haven't been able to get done for days.

but then winter has its downsides (but i'm trying to be optimistic with the things i love about it first). what is at first so clean, beautiful, and white, soon turns into gray, brown and ugly, especially come March when you start to destroy snow cubes along the side of the road because you are begging the weather to warm up enough so there is no longer snow anywhere in your sight. sometimes the wind blows so fiercly that it feels like no matter how many layers, how thick your long underwear is, or how many cups of tea/hot drink you can drink, the cold blows straight through. and there's the awkward passing-by people along the road when you try to smile but your mouth just doesn't really move because it's frozen. it's embarrassing - and sort of depressing because you don't see as many smiles through those months.

the past few years i have been learning to embrace winter - the highs and lows, the crazy wind or the beautiful snowfall, the dry and cracked skin, or the coziness inside my dorm or apartment. what i probably appreciate the most is how much more thankful i am for spring -- the first sighting of crocuses, the tulips starting to burst from the ground, the slight increase of the temperature on my weather site ...it brings tears to my eyes (literally).

love from snowtober,

alyssa

worth quoting

[photo taken at Tufts University}

Courage
by Anne Sexton

It is in the small things we see it.
The child's first step,
as awesome as an earthquake.
The first time you rode a bike,
wallowing up the sidewalk.
The first spanking when your heart
went on a journey all alone.
When they called you crybaby
or poor or fatty or crazy
and made you into an alien,
you drank their acid
and concealed it.

Later,
if you faced the death of bombs and bullets
you did not do it with a banner,
you did it with only a hat to
cover your heart.
You did not fondle the weakness inside you
though it was there.
Your courage was a small coal
that you kept swallowing.
If your buddy saved you
and died himself in so doing,
then his courage was not courage,
it was love; love as simple as shaving soap.

Later,
if you have endured a great despair,
then you did it alone,
getting a transfusion from the fire,
picking the scabs off your heart,
then wringing it out like a sock.
Next, my kinsman, you powdered your sorrow,
you gave it a back rub
and then you covered it with a blanket
and after it had slept a while
it woke to the wings of the roses
and was transformed.

Later,
when you face old age and its natural conclusion
your courage will still be shown in the little ways,
each spring will be a sword you'll sharpen,
those you love will live in a fever of love,
and you'll bargain with the calendar
and at the last moment
when death opens the back door
you'll put on your carpet slippers
and stride out.

{i want the small but significant courage that anne sexton portrays in her poem. i want to be that little child taking the small steps, entering into the battle completely ill-equipped with a simple hat to protect me.

i like this poem because it shows courage in the little places, in the small things that are important and make us into more courageous people}

I would like to beg you...to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try and love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. and the point is to live everything. live the questions now. perhaps then, someday far in the future you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.
-Rainer Rilke

{My dad sent me this quote while I was in Costa Rica. It now hangs on my wall and has blessed me immensly as I wrestle with questions, and wrestle with wrestling itslef, longing to be okay with the challenges of paradoxes and seeing so much gray instead of black and white. But what I love about this quote is that there is beauty in those questions and paradoxes - and I hope to be a person who seeks that beauty and instead of seeing "gray," is excited to be a part of coloring between the black and white}

Theologians talk about a prevenient grace that precedes grace itself and allows us to accept it. I think there must also be a prevenient courage that allows us to be brave--that is, to acknowledge that there is more beauty than our eyes can bear, that precious things have been put into our hands and to do nothing to honor them is to do great harm. And therefore, this courage allows us, as the old men said, to make ourselves useful. It allows us to be generous, which is another way of saying exactly the same thing...What have I to leave you but the ruins of old courage, and the lore of old gallantry and hope? Well, as I have said, it is all an ember now, and the good Lord will surely someday breathe it into flame again.
-Marilyn Robinson, Gilead (p 246)

{Precious things have been put in my hands, and I hope to have the courage to make myself useful. And if you've read Gilead you know that the courage Robinson is speaking of is persevering through loneliness and learning to forgive. I want that courage too}

kelsey visits!

we had a great weekend.

and i also learned not to rush. this was what i looked like throughout the weekend many times - trying to walk faster to the car, get to the commuter rail with at least 10 minutes to spare, etc. and kels was always a few steps behind me rolling her eyes and saying "will walking a little faster make THAT much of a difference? no. so slow down"

so i need to continue to learn how to slow down and to enjoy those brief walks between here and there because there's a lot of beauty along those journeys -- a quite literal example when we got lost in boston and happened upon some beautiful ponds (part of an environmental preservation project). i hate getting lost. unfortunately, when you are living in the boston area you WILL get lost: that is inevitable. however, getting lost in this instance led to a beautiful walk, a lovely chat with a sweet (and handsome might i add) man who let us use a restroom nearby, and a new place now visited in boston. good times. i now want to run the half marathon there!

just some of the good times and wonderful things kels and i did together this weekend.
and some of the things i learned as well :)

"re-envisioning home"

The Global Education Office at Gordon is having a photo contest for returning study abroad students. Students were invited to submit a picture and write a brief explanation of how the photo fits with the theme "re-envisioning home." All the photos and writing are on display in the library for the next month or so. This is what I submitted...it's nothing I haven't written about before but I wanted to share it anyway :)

I lived in three different “homes” while I was in Latin America: three different houses I walked to after taking the bus home from Spanish class or after working at the local elementary school cutting plátanos for lunch,  or after a day at the little Nicaraguan church down the road. I entered my home each day with new thoughts, observations, and questions swirling in my mind. One of the greatest joys of being at home in Latin America was sharing a home with Latin Americans who loved and cared for me despite the many boundaries of culture, language, and personality. This picture shows some of my dear friends and playmates whom I lived with in San José de la Montaña, a beautiful town in the mountains. We were neighbors and we shared a home together. But more than that, we shared life together, whether that was playing soccer in the afternoons, picking wildberries on our walk home from school, or enjoying mid-afternoon coffee breaks, cafecito. Yes, they opened their homes to me, but more than that, they opened their hearts as well.

she's 19 today

she's still just as beautiful as last year, still funnier than heck, has a huge heart, and is my favorite 19 year old. happy, happy birthday to my gorgeous, wonderful, talented, smart, funny, wise, loving, and special sister Kelsey Lynne!!

good words

today in chaps (at gordon we abbreviate a lot. i call chapel chaps most of the time) i heard from cynthia bauer, founder and director of an organization called "Kupenda for the Children." it is a non-profit that works with kids with disabilities in kenya, many of whom have physical and mental disabilities such as cerebal palsy, missing limbs, autism, loss of hearing, etc.

cynthia was born with a disability of her own: she does not have a left hand. what i found so moving about her talk this morning was when she talked about meeting a little girl in kenya who was born without a left hand as well. the mother of the child thought that she had been cursed or did something wrong to cause this to happen to her child, but when she saw cynthia's condition, she realized that this was not a curse or something that only happens to people in africa. cynthia has now been able to develop a relationship with this little girl who is now two years old.

it is easy to be puzzled by life and why certain things happen the way they do. what i found so encouraging about cynthia's words was that they demonstrated to me the beauty of God's redemption in the brokenness of our lives. but more than that, sometimes we have to wait thirty years or even a whole lifetime to understand bits and pieces of his plan.

as i think about my own life, i sometimes wonder how God's plan is going to unfold and what the purpose was behind his timing and the different circumstances i encounter. but i am brought again to the words "trust" and "hope" and encouraged by yet another story of trust and hope where lives are continuing to be impacted even through the brokenness of a disability.

missing

i like how in spanish if you are missing something you can say "me hace falta." i think it expresses "missing" something or someone in a deeper way. it is like saying someone or something is missing from you - there is an absence that they leave because your time was special with them.

me hacen mucha falta mis padres de costa rica. i miss my costa rican parents. i miss our breakfasts together, i miss talking to papi about fruit, hearing him say my name "¡¡Alísa!!" with such joy, i miss cooking with them and talking in the car as we drove to another new place in costa rica.

i just got off the phone talking with them (by skype :)) and it gave me such joy to hear their voices. they sounded the same and i asked the same questions i asked while i was living in their house. what a blessing it was and continues to be that i was able to live with them while i was in costa rica.

my semester there was hard. i think that is the word i use most often when i talk about my experience in latin america. yet after i say "hard" i talk about the people whom i met there who made such an impact on my life. they showed me love and joy as i struggled with loneliness and fear and that is why me hacen falta.