a bench

A few weeks ago, Gordon College dedicated two benches for two lost loved ones: Dr. David Lumsdaine, a beloved professor of mine, and a first-year student named Monica who died in a car accident last spring. I was given the privilege of reading a passage of Scripture with two other students (friends of Monica) and the dedication also included two reflections from faculty and residence life staff, as well as a prayer recitation and word of dedication by our campus pastor.

But, why a bench?

I think the bench matters because if loving people is as important as it is, then remembering them (those whom we have loved, and those who have loved us back) is something we ought to pursue as well. And I can't think of a more fitting place to remember a person by than a bench: where conversations, peace, and rest, can all happen simultaneously (because all of this is exactly what he would have wanted).

The bench isn't there just to remember, although it will certainly help us to do so. The bench is also there to honor someone who loved deeply and genuinely. The bench is there so that we reflect on what that love meant to us and how we let it flow in our own lives. The bench is there because loss is real and deep -- and we need a place to gather around that loss.

I cried for the first time that afternoon for Dr. Lumsdaine.

It felt good to cry those tears there -- by that bench, with those people -- because that was his family, and they knew all the things that made him the unique man that he was.

The verses read in his honor got to me because they captured so much of his character. The reflections were moving because they showed that a community had come to love the unique and quirky sides of who he was. The prayers were comforting, as well as silencing, as we both grieved death, and rejoiced in future life together.

I'm really glad that bench is there -- sitting underneath a tree, in the middle of a busy intersection on campus that I crossed a hundred times, sometimes burdened by books and heavy thoughts, sometimes joyfully skipping with friends to get dinner. There's comfort in knowing there's a bench to return to when I go back. There's comfort knowing that I can sit on that bench in that place and know a friend or two who can share stories of who this man was, and how he was part of a college community that changed my life.

I think the bench is there for more than remembering and honoring; I think it's also there for comforting and giving peace.

And I smile as I put those thoughts together because I think that's exactly what Dr. Lumsdaine would have wanted (he always wanted to comfort, he always sought peace).

So, I'm thankful for that bench. Thankful for what it means and who it honors and the peace it brings. I didn't know a place to sit could bring all of those things.

Jean Bethke Elshtain 1941-2013

photo courtesy of Chicago Tribune

Considering the fact that I have a rather small blog following (but I love the 10 of you consistent readers!! Thank you for reading!), I'm assuming that of those 10 readers, none have heard of this woman named Jean Bethke Elshtain before. She passed away earlier this week and I wanted to write about her because she had an impact on my studies in Political Science. And a year after graduating, I realize how much I miss reading her work, among others. It still blows my mind a little that I grew to love political theory (well, it's more of a love-hate relationship ...loving the class discussions, hating writing long papers), and she was one of those thinkers who helped me write papers and ask good questions in class.

She wrote about pluralism. She wrote about gender. She wrote about the common good. She wrote about politics and ethics and so many important things in a way that kept political theory sort of "grounded"...what I mean by that is you can easily make political theory something so distant from reality, or you can think about political theory in the ways it touches all aspects of our social order. Elshtain went with the latter which is probably why I liked her so much. She was also easier to read than Plato, but equally brilliant. 

One of the last papers I wrote in college was for my "Justice" class, taught by one of my favorite professors who always encouraged me to read Elshtain for my papers. In the paper I used some of her works such as Public Man Private Woman, which challenged the idolatry of reason and hte separation between the public and private spheres -- as well as men's isolation to the public and women's isolation to the private

Thinking about her work, and now her death, I realize that good thinkers pass away. That's a strange thought, but I wonder what was on her computer before she passed away -- what was she writing about that she didn't get to finish? 

Thinking about her death also makes me nostalgic for college days. But in reflecting on some of what I learned from Dr. Elshtain, I am encouraged to keep thinking, to keep asking the questions and writing the papers, and challenging the assumptions of society. It means I must always be a student in some capacity, and I really like that. 

You are dearly missed, Dr. Lumsdaine

I love words. But right now I'm sitting and wishing for words to express all that I want them to -- words to express thanks, words to express sadness, and words to express how wonderful a person was -- and will always be.

My beloved professor, Dr. Lumsdaine, passed away this morning. I remember Dr. Lumsdaine for many things -- he was quirky and funny in class, he often came in to the classroom looking a bit disheveled and about 5 minutes after class was supposed to start. His lectures often went way over my head (because he was perhaps one of the most brilliant people I have ever met. Studying math, then economics, then international affairs is part of that reason). But Dr. Lumsdaine's head wasn't just in the books, his head and heart were given freely to his students. Every syllabus invited student conversation beyond the classroom for his office hours. Dr. Lumsdaine's office hours were different than most professors. He invited students to come to Gillies (a lounge in our student center) and would be there often times way beyond his time slot (I know he was sometimes there until midnight talking with a student). He looked at me in the eyes and told me that he cared about me and was always willing to talk more -- about anything from Latin American politics and American foreign policy to his life and faith. He asked students to call him "Dr. D" and to think of him as more than just a professor, but a brother in Christ. I remember him telling me that he felt he had a unique gift to be a mentor to students -- I know he lived that out in every way.


His death came too soon. There are too many more students who needed to hear his voice, who needed to hear the way he said "welllllll..." and "mmmmhmmmmmmmm", who would have learned about international relations and diplomacy and a God who loves and works amidst these broken systems. There are too many more students who needed his listening ears and his compassion and generosity. There are many more seniors who needed to hear him humming a song or hymn as he walked with the faculty out of our Baccalaureate service. More people who needed to read excerpts from his book Moral Vision in International Politics and tell them that the book mattered to them personally, like it did to me.

When I was given the opportunity to speak at our Baccalaureate service, it was a gift to me because it gave me the opportunity to express (although inadequately) the impact of my college experience. Professors were one of the biggest impacts, and Dr. D was one of them:

I fell in love with a process of learning where I am able to ask the hard questions to people who don’t run away from me, but embrace me in their office with an open chair, a crowded bookshelf, piles of papers, and sincere ears to listen.

Dr. D was one of these professors who eagerly listened to the hard questions, embraced a stressed-out and confused 21 year old who was trying to connect the dots after a semester abroad. And he again listened to her during her last semester of college, and again as she prepared to go home to California.

I regret that I didn't get to send him the proper thank you he deserved. The best thank you I think I gave him (surely insufficient, but nonetheless, something to show that his work was meaningful to me), was a reflection I wrote in the room I shared with my host sister Barbara in San Jose de la Montaña, Costa Rica during my study abroad experience as I was processing books and conversations and a hundred questions spinning in my head. The reason I wrote this reflection was because I was thinking about an excerpt from Dr. D's book on international politics, specifically foreign aid. I was pretty depressed thinking about world affairs and country interactions and felt pretty hopeless. Then I came across these words Dr. D wrote in the conclusion of his book:

It is by a life of love, of community, of reaching out to others whether we find them useful or attractive or not, that we come to open our hearts to what it truly means for us to be human. We are not very good at doing it; but, as with every task which requires inspiration, we can but work away at what we can do while we wait and hope. We cannot command our human destiny, but perhaps events will turn out graciously for us if, aware of our weakness and limitations, we set our sights on what is good” (293)

This excerpt deserves more context, and I apologize that I can't flesh that out better here, but I can tell you what I took away from this, and why I thanked him for these words. I wrote:

I’m a Political Science major – and maybe that will at times come in conflict with Christian principles as my host father told me in Nicaragua. But I’m hoping that Dr. Lumsdaine is right: that politics doesn’t have to be all lies and corruption – that moral vision does make a difference and doing what is right can actually be in the “best interest” of a nation. Getting that passed in the house of congress or the Supreme Court might be a different story and a high task, but it’s worth fighting for. It may be idealist, opportunistic, romantic – but if it’s what is right, I need to fight for it, no matter what the cost. 

I was encouraged when I read his words and they gave me a glimmer of hope as I was sitting in a foreign country wondering if seeking the good of others didn't have to be trumped by power and greed. I was encouraged by a political scientist and expert in international diplomacy who believed in the Good, who believed in a God who is The ultimate good and that this goodness can impact the world around us.

Dr. D, you are missed. I look forward to the day when I hear you sing again and read your brilliant writing and hear your stories and political ideas. Until then, I know I'm blessed to have been your student and I hope to live out, however small or big, your compassion and love for politics and people.

of late

post-grad life has been treating me well. it's been different and low key, but overall i've been enjoying it. i have been up to a few things:

1. work. i am blessed with a JOB FOR THE SUMMER. i am really grateful to be working in the gordon admissions office with great staff and at a school i love.

2. watching one too many episodes of friday night lights (not to be confused with the movie). one of the reasons i love this show is because of this character:

forgive me for the crush...i do have more legitimate reasons for loving this show than tim riggins.

especially the 4th & 5th seasons there has been a lot of interesting stories relating to important issues: gangs, the prison system, family loyalty, football culture, abortion, male and female roles, marriage, etc. it's an entertaining show for sure - but it also makes you think.

3. running. trying to exercise more since the past month of college consisted of a lot of ice cream and little exercise ;)

4. book reading: i finished a short romance novel about a cross-country road trip. it was quite cliche but i loved every page.

up next on my shelf:

5. Christians in Political Science Conference 

this past weekend my college partnered with the center for public justice and the institute for global engagement to host this conference (i believe it happens every two years). throughout the weekend, many christian political scientists participated in panels, discussed papers they had written, and engaged in Q & A over a wide range of topics.

one of the speakers, peter feever, spoke about the tension between theory and practice in politics -- and he spoke with experience leading in the white house (foreign policy specifically) under presidents clinton and bush. 

gordon's college president, dr. michael lindsay, spoke the following night about his in-depth research through the Platinum Study which studies the top leaders in the United States, and specifically the impact of religion in these positions. it was really interesting to hear dr. lindsay speak as a sociologist instead of as a college president and i was honestly blown away by all that he has done to conduct this study -- 550 interviews and thousands of hours of research to understand how faith has impacted the "elite" in a variety of settings -- businesses, non-profits, political offices, etc. 

afterwards, my friend and i approached him to ask a specific question i had been thinking about during his presentation:

what about women??

this past semester i took a fascinating sociology class that made me see a lot of injustices and problems that men and women experience due to gender discrimination and sexism. as i listened to dr. lindsay's study, i wanted to hear what he had to say since most of the "elite" (CEOs, political officials, etc.) are men -- and if they are the ones with the most power, what does this mean for women, and ultimately, is this a good structure for a flourishing society?

dr. lindsay answered the question with a lot of understanding and said that he tried really hard to interview women in his study and out of all of his interviews this totaled to 12%. one of the biggest areas of difference between men and women in these high positions of power was their tension between working in the office and carring for their families. dr. lindsay's research proved that women struggled more with this challenge than did men - meaning that women felt more of a burden to care for their families instead of working in high-power positions (and this is a big deal considering the average person in a position of power worked a LOT of hours -- more than 60/week usually). 

i have a lot of questions and am eager to engage in conversation about the study and what it means for women in leadership and positions of power.

the following night, we heard the annual Kuyper Lecture, hosted by the Center for Public Justice. the speaker was Miroslav Volf and he has a long list of accomplishments and teaches at Yale. i'll confess i couldn't follow all of what he said, but he was talking about the compatibility of religious exclusivists (those who believe that their faith is the true way to life and eternal life) pursuing a pluralist political order.

what do i mean by "pluralist political order"?? well i guess having just graduated as a political science major i should have that answer pat-down, but i don't. i'll do my best :) 

i think the best way to talk about pluralism is to think of the root word plural, meaning more than one. when we talk about pluralism, we can discuss structural pluralism -- the variety of structures and institutions that compose a society. we can also talk about religious pluralism where many peoples express different religious view points.

dr. volf was interested in proving that as a religious exclusivist, you can support a pluralist political order that supports the flourishing of different religious groups. there are a lot of questions about what this means, what it looks like, especially when various religious (or a-religious) perspectives do not affirm certain institutions, or do not like the way they function (such as education, the family, etc.)

you can find a much better and well-written piece about the conference here if you're interested and haven't fallen asleep while reading this ;)

all in all, it was a great conference and i enjoyed hearing from my fellow students as they presented papers, the guest lecturers, and the panel discussions.

more thoughts to come! :)

commencing

this thing called "commencement" happened last weekend. it's another word for graduation and it was something happy and sad and exciting and crazy and weird all at once. 

the "commencement" weekend began with senior breakfast at the danversport yacht club...it was lovely and a fun way to begin the weekend...

 the apt :) 

i met the lovely kait earlier this year in Christian Theology and we worked together on a Symposium event this spring talking about hope and the arts -- she is a wonderful artist and dear friend. i'll miss her and our coffee dates

 my grandpa trekked out east with the rest of my family to see me graduate and then tour a bit of the east coast (NYC blog to come!) i am so grateful he was able to make it. he is one of the smartest people i know and is always excited and curious about what i am doing and learning. i am so thankful to have him in my life and that he got to be a part of this special day with me.  

 THE FAM

where do i begin with these lovely people?!?!?

kels was a faithful picture taker the whole time (kels! get over here! take a picture with me and ___! kels follow me!) and my whole fam was so supportive and patient with me throughout a very crazy and overwhelming weekend. i am so blessed by them and that they made the trip out to watch me graduate -- so special. they've been the biggest supporters as i wrote many papers and shed lots of tears these past few months. i love my family! 

lisa, dr. brink, and me

where do i begin? 

lisa has been my poli sci ROCK this year. seriously -- we've double dated with political philosophers (that's what it felt like after writing a paper about karl marx and spending hours in the library with his books - felt like i was dating that old man, but it was a rather one-sided relationship unfortunately), we've talked over coffee and red lulu's sangria about life and dancing and friends and politics and feminism. we've both cursed at books that made us mad and encouraged each other through tough school work and life craziness. i am so thankful for this lady and will miss her as she kicks butt in washington, dc.

dr. brink was a huge influence in my decision to major in political science. and his classes have perhaps been the most challenging and most rewarding during my time at gordon. i've learned about plato and rousseau and liberalism and social contract theory and what john rawls believed justice was. i've asked lots of questions in his office and he's given me books to read about gender reconciliation and liberation theology and karl marx.

i'm still trying to figure out how to say thank you to someone who has taught me so much, especially in an area 4 years ago i had no idea i would come to love...and to live out that thanks in what i say and do in my life as a college graduate.

  

 the sisters. love these girls OH SO MUCH. 

classmates!! these wonderful people have been sitting in class with me for the past four years...i'll miss them and our discussions inside & outside of class, running into each other in the library and sharing our academic woes, and seeing their faces get excited about what we're learning. 

holland was the other senior giving a reflection Baccalaureate...funny how both of us are from california! :) 

 

the 'rents :)

the ones who encouraged me to pursue a christian liberal arts education and made it possible for me to cross the finish line...i am so grateful.

 post-grad fun with my apartment and neighbor apartment 

 nat, erin, and i

so happy that alys and lynn joined me for graduation celebrations :)

i met these beautiful ladies during my freshman year as they lived on my floor and we've been friends ever since -- through rec IM basketball to easters in maryland to GCSA to california visits to running across the quad to greet each other after months apart, we have lots of great memories together. alys and i both introduce ourselves as "the alyssa's from southern california" and i was so happy to see lynn after over a year (she's been in israel!) -- so special.

so grateful for these special people who shared this weekend with me :) ..and grateful for the people who shared it with me from a far!! 

you don't need a ring to prove you fell in love

[freshmen orientation: august 2008]

I graduated from college this past weekend (...more posts on that big event to come!!), but one of the special highlights from the weekend was getting to read my senior reflection at our Baccalaureate service. 

This is what I shared on Friday night...

~~

At Gordon I have fallen in love. No ring on my finger – just a full heart because of the people and places and books that four years has brought me.

First, I fell in love with studying politics. I entered college with zero interest in politics, but since it was a presidential election year and I wanted to fulfill a core requirement, I enrolled in American National Politics during my first semester at Gordon.  I sat in class every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday in Jenks 212, with my purple notebook and mechanical pencil, in a state of terror and fascination: I felt out of place with the politics majors who would say things in class that seemed so brilliant and foreign to me – and my professor talked about ideas I had never heard of before, like pluralism and liberalism and sphere sovereignty. But something happened to me in that class: it didn’t make my decision for the election, but it convinced me that studying politics was something I wanted to do. The following spring I took a leap of faith and marched my nervous feet to the registrar’s office to declare my major. For the next three years I learned about Constitutional law and the Middle East and the influence of religion on international affairs and what Plato was actually talking about in his Republic. I wrote papers that I, at many points along the journey, wanted to rip apart out of frustration and exhaustion, but each of those papers taught me that political systems matter and that studying them prompts me to think about how to pursue justice and peace in a broken world.  

I also fell in love with Boston and New England. I became completely captured by the colors of fall and couldn’t keep my running shoes away from the woods in September and October. I have come to appreciate the little pieces of New England that make it seem more like home to me – the candles in the windows at Christmas, the church buildings with steeples, the small ice cream shops by the beach. And then there’s Boston – I learned to love the rhythm of the commuter rail, the accent I hear as I stroll the city streets. I loved walking through the Common in springtime or driving into the city at night and walking through the rain staring up at the sparkling city lights.

I fell in love with speaking Spanish. Before college, learning Spanish was just a part of fulfilling the foreign language requirement. But after a trip to Guatemala and a semester of Spanish 102, it grew into an interest I wanted to pursue and led me to study abroad in a different part of the world. While abroad I became Alísa, instead of Alyssa. I learned about the language, culture, suffering and beauty of Costa Rica, Nicaragua, and Cuba. And through conversations about theology and poverty and political systems and culture; through tears, language mistakes, laughter, cultural confusions, and so many meals of rice, beans, and plátanos, I discovered that I love a different language and I love learning from the Latin Americans who speak it with me.

I fell in love with people. Relationships happened as we ran together along Grapevine or laughed on the floor of our apartment after a long day, or borrowed each other’s dresses for Gordon Globes or cried together as we shared disappointment, heartache, and fear. When I entered college I thought I was independent, but as each year passed, I realized how dependent I was on these relationships – and how these relationships help me grow and love more deeply.

Relationships also inspired me to learn more deeply. I found myself accustomed to the steep walk up to the third floor of Frost during faculty office hours and would arrive (always!) out of breath and just spill out a hundred questions spinning in my head to one of my professors. And they would listen. They would always listen no matter how many times I bothered them or asked for just one more explanation of what this crazy philosopher was talking about. I fell in love with a process of learning where I am able to ask the hard questions to people who don’t run away from me, but embrace me in their office with an open chair, a crowded bookshelf, piles of papers, and sincere ears to listen.

At Gordon I’ve also learned that this process of loving is the hardest thing I’ll ever do. Relationships expose parts of ourselves you wish you could hide, discovering new places often times takes you away from the people you love, and studying the world challenges the world-view you’ve held all your life and poses questions you don’t want to answer. Falling in love also means that you are called to bear the responsibility of caring for more people and places, more areas of study. Your heart gets bigger as you open yourself to the new adventures and experiences, but the ache grows too. But I have found that the more I fall in love, the more I experience joy, peace, and hope. This transition from Gordon brings with it many questions and uncertainties. And I am clinging to that joy, peace, and hope I have learned through four years of classes, experiences, assignments, and genuine relationships.

I hope that these four years prompts me to live my life in a way where I am always falling in love.

a week on the west coast: san diego!

i am back from a wonderful week in "sathen cali" (try to say it with a boston accent and you'll better understand how fun it is to be in the golden state with east coasters :))

[most of the team]

[heading to the border with some of the youth group from the church]

[mexico on the left, USA on the right]

[helping distribute food in a low-income neighborhood with City of Refuge]

[bus rides: always a blast with these friends]

The main purpose of our trip to SD was to learn about immigration issues, but we got to do so much more than that. We participated in the church's service on Sunday (singing songs in Spanish and English!), ate meals with Mexican church families at their homes, listened to a "Q & A" about immigration where we dialogued with the church about their experiences as immigrants, and worked with different homeless ministries. We got to help out at Presbyterian Urban Ministries (PUM) which is a little house in a SD neighborhood that serves the homeless with food, clothing, and help finding resources. I got to talk with some homeless men and women and help in the clothing drive organizing and distributing clothes. We also got to meet with a few different people who do awesome homeless ministry by picking up food from grocery stores (food that is still good, but the grocery stores can't sell it anymore) and distribute it to low income neighborhoods and extended-stay motels. It was really neat to meet with these men and women who truly love and know the poor -- and do this on a weekly/daily basis.

I could write so many things about my time in San Diego, but I think I am going to frame this post in five specific things I am thankful for. My mom gave each of us a thankful journal to write 5 things each day that we are thankful for and I am going to follow that example here (although there were many more of course!)

I am thankful for...

(1) My team: I came into the trip only knowing a few people on my team. I was nervous before the trip what it would be like hanging out with people I didn't know, but this proved to be one of the biggest blessings. I loved getting to knowmy team and learning from them throughout the week.

(2) The Mexican families I got to know: We had three meals at different families' homes and it was such a good time - great fellowship and conversation (in Spanish and English!) as well as the most incredible Mexican food. From taquitos to cactus to funny games to talking about receiving unfair wages, each meal was full of lessons and blessings. 

(3) Awesome Ministries like PUM and City of Refuge
During my trip to Nicaragua, we were given a reading packet and one of the articles particularly shook me:

I believe that the great tragedy of the church is not that rich Christians do not care about the poor, but that they do not know the poor...I recently surveyed people who said they were "strong followers of Jesus." Over 80% agreed with the statement, "Jesus spent much time with the poor." Yet only 1% said that they themselves spent time with the poor. We believe we are following the God of the poor - yet we never truly encounter the poor

--Shane Claiborne

BAM. I remember being so convicted of this statement: they do not know the poor. It is so much easier for me to give money to a charity then to get to know the poor in my own backyard. The ministries I got to help out with were doing exactly this: getting to know the poor. Building relationships. Treating the poor as their friends and with the same respect and love they would show to their own family. This was such a good example for me to follow and I was grateful I got to meet and watch them work!

(4) Speaking Spanish: Oh man...maybe one of my favorite parts. I remember when I was studying in Costa Rica and I longed to speak English and realized how much language is a part of one's identity. I couldn't express what I wanted to in Spanish and I longed to be known as Alyssa instead of "Alísa" (how you say my name in Spanish)...

I felt this on the flip-side in SD -- I miss hearing "Alísa". I smile differently when I speak Spanish and it brings me so much joy when I can talk in a different language -- even if I can't communicate everything I want to say. The trip showed me how much I love speaking this language and how I want to continue speaking and studying it (well, maybe not studying it right now ;) - perhaps a little study hiatus would be nice). 

(5) Immigration Q & A at the Church: On Wednesday night, we got to have a Q & A with the church about immigration issues. Most of the church members are immigrants and first-generation immigrants who all have interesting perspectives on immigration issues from obtaining documents, fair wages, treatment from white Americans, etc. 

 I love thinking about how the church is supposed to interact with the state and vice-versa, and discussing a political issue with a church congregation was a really neat experience for me. During the week I was thinking about the segregation between Latinos and Caucasians in the Church. While I realize that a big part of this is the language barrier, I am excited to think about ways the Church can foster more dialogue between people of different ethnic and cultural backgrounds. The evening Q & A was such a beautiful example to me of what that could look like -- it required honesty, humility, grace, patience, translators :), and difficult questions. But it was so good and worth it. I want more of those conversations and interactions. 

Thank you so much for your love and support!! 

To learn more about what we did throughout the week, check our blog our here!

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.

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.

MLK

"the question is not whether we will be extremists, but what kind of extremists we will be. will we be extremists for hate or for love? will we be extremists for the preservation of injustice or for the extension of justice?"

this week i am thankful for dr. martin luther king jr. and his Letter from Birmingham Jail. I've read this letter before, but for some reason the words are much more powerful for me as i read it to prepare for a class discussion in the freshmen seminar class that i am TAing for.

why is this man important? why does he deserve a holiday in his name on a cold monday in january? there are many reasons why he deserves recognition: his passion for reconciliation, his relentless pursuit of justice for the oppressed, his thoughtful words and moving speeches. yet this time as i reflect on his letter, i am amazed by his vision for the kingdom of God. and this is what has been so meaningful to me as i have reflected on it in the past couple of days.

one theme throughout his letter is that of time and urgency. one of the charges made against him is that his behavior is "unwise and untimely" and that instead of participating in demonstrations, he should be taking these concerns to the courts and let the courts work through the process of reconciliation and equality.

"justice too long delayed is justice denied" (503)

~~

"human progress never rolls in on wheels of inevitability; it comes through the tireless efforts of men willing to be co-workers with God, and without this hard work, time itself becomes an ally of the forces of social stagnation" (508)

yet king points out that we are called to kingdom work now. i believe that Jesus calls us to respond to his message and choose to participate in the work he began, not by our own merit, but by his love and grace. dr. king was disappointed that members of the church were operating with a different vision of the kingdom - a distant, far-removed concept that would only come into play after death and at heaven's gates. i find dr. king's vision of the kingdom as a present kingdom (although not yet fully present) and one in which we can find great joy and peace if we choose to participate in it now. what a privilege to participate in this kingdom, despite our brokenness and weakness.

dr. king speaks with eloquence and knowledge that is inspiring. it's especially inspiring to me as i enter into the world of academia again. dr. king was ACTIVE in what he believed, yet he was also a critical thinker. he quotes philosophers and theologians, which to me shows great intellectual thought - and thought that furthered his arguments and action. sometimes it is easy to separate thought from action or to delegitimate the study we do in the classroom. yet when dr. king sites the work of philosophers and theologians, i am more convinced that studying machiavelli and marx this semester is worthy of my energy. hopefully another semester of critical thinking, intense studying, and looking back into history will make me a better thinker, and as a better thinker, a better active-ist (not in the sense of activist yelling on the street), but an informed person of action, whose actions are backed up with thought and attention to what really matters.

dr. king's words are also a challenge to me. he was disappointed with the church, particularly the "white moderate." i'm a part of the church. and i am white. but i hope to not find myself within the apathetic "white moderate" who says "those are social issues, with which the gospel has no real concern" (511). i hope to be an "extremist for love" as king states. but i hope to do that in response to the greatest love that i have experienced: the love and blessing of Christ.

if you're looking for something inspiring, uplifting, motivating, or something filled with a message of justice and shalom, i encourage you to read Letter to Birmingham Jail. i hope you'll be as blessed as i am.

it's been 8 months since...

i ran in the Gordon woods to my favorite lake, laughed loudly with my apartment-mates, made pasta with veggie burgers for the umpteenth time, marveled at the colors of fall, joyfully made myself butternut squash for dinner, walked to chaps bundled in my blue puffy jacket, prepared hot chocolate with a peppermint at the bottom to sustain me to Jenks for long study-hours, watched an episode of glee all cozied up in my pink down comforter, ran to the beach passing the cutest New England cottage houses, got out of breath reaching the top of frost to talk to a professor, enjoyed a butterscotch candy after cashing a check at the cashier’s office (usually a Friday tradition), rode on the T into the beautiful city of Bah-stun, worked out in the often times over-heated gym, finished a run and proceeded to watch a soccer game on the quad, trekked to Maine to visit Maris and her family, huffed & puffed my way up to Laurie’s office on the 3rd floor of the chapel, learned another reason why I love studying political science…

I have missed all of those things and so many more for the past 8 months. But the past 8 months have been filled with its own blessings through new people, places, and returning home to my California family for the summer.
I am excited, nervous, anxious, and grateful for the opportunity to head back to Massachusetts in just a couple of weeks: Excited to see good friends, anxious to begin another year of classes, nervous about transitioning and what is coming post-graduation, grateful for Gordon and all the many things I love about it and how God has blessed me there.