O, holy night!

long lay the world in sin and error, pining,
til He appeared, and the soul felt its worth.

ah, the power of punctuation.
i'm not sure if there are supposed to be commas surrounding the word "pining,"
but placing them there has given me sudden clarity on what that phrase is supposed to mean.

i went to crossroads' service twice this past weekend,
once on saturday afternoon and once on sunday morning,
and though there was once a time when i begrudged them
the fact of holding multiple services over a two-day period,
i was really thankful for that this time.

[it was kind of like a time-released capsule:
i had an initial taste on saturday afternoon,
thought over it and reflected on my own saturday night,
and then experienced the full power and weight of the message sunday morning.]

for me, the main message (among other points) was this--
luke 2:11 >> "today in the town of david a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord."

i'm not quite sure if i've ever really understood that.
a Savior, a Rescuer, a Deliverer.
not a religious moralizer or a really good person,
but a Savior.  someone who came to save me.

inherent in having a Savior is that i'm someone in need of saving in the first place.
i think that is the material point that i've kind of always skated around.
being raised in a Christian household, it was the default belief,
and since, for the most part, it "worked" for me, there wasn't really a need to question it.
after all, i'm your average good person; i'm not unlikeable, i'm not mean, i'm not evil.
i do good things for others, i volunteer, i want to make the world a better place.

but even in all that--
ephesians 2:1-5 >> as for you, you were dead in your transgressions and sins,
in which you used to live when you followed the ways of this world and of the ruler of the kingdom of the air,
the spirit who is now at work in those who are disobedient.
all of us lived among them at one time,
gratifying the cravings of our sinful nature and following its desires and thoughts.
like the rest, we were by nature objects of wrath.
but because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy,
made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgression--
it is by grace you have been saved.

as brian (the lead pastor at crossroads) put it,
i'm not just some understandably flawed person in need of a few moral principles--
i'm dead in need of a Savior.

honestly?  when i heard that, there was a sensation in my heart
like the sound of stitches in the lining of a coat being ripped out.
that crrrrkkkk noise.  and, my mind went, "CRAP."  because!

all the genuinely good people i know?
all of my friends from high school and college who are just as
kind and nice and thoughtful and funny and considerate?
unless they know Christ, they are dead.

all of my coworkers, past and present?
all of my "regulars" at the library?
all of the loud kids that i shush and occasionally kick out?
unless they know christ, they're dead, too.

you, my fellow xangans?
unless you know Christ, you're dead as well.

...
i've been treating Christianity and what it means to follow Christ
in a way that doesn't really take into account that Christ is my Savior.
this past weekend's message has only reaffirmed lessons that i have learned over the past few months regarding this.

i have been a Christian for half my life, only it has been on my own terms.
God has worked in me and on me and through me,
but only so far as to the extent of what i could still control, you know?
(hmm, maybe you don't.  verbose as i may be, i'm still not that great at articulating.)
it's kind of like...

i put my faith in a greenhouse.
i had faith in Christ, and i did all the Christian things--
going to church, fellowship with others, reading my Bible, praying.
but it was all done within circumstances that i could control.
i bloomed and flowered and there was genuine fruit in my life,
but it all happened as a result of closely monitored elements:

limiting my experiences, choosing with whom to associate instead of freely loving others,
focusing only on what could guarantee academic and social success,
all in an attempt to try and minimize the risk of tripping,
of mistakes and failures and not having it all together.

doing things with an attitude of stubborn pride,
but slapping "all for God's glory" over it to justify my actions.

real faith would have been out in the wilderness of unpredictable and actual nature.
real faith is trusting God,
wholeheartedly, recklessly,
leaving it all out on the floor, holding nothing back.
not
"i trust God" but still trying trying trying of my own volition.

trying is religion.  trying is what doctrine is there for.
"keep trying, keep going by these standards, and maybe you'll get there."

being saved by a Savior completely null and voids trying.

instead, it's something far more terrifying-- trust.
i have a hard enough time trusting imperfect yet corporeal people;
what about trusting a perfect yet intangible God?

relinquishing control-- really letting go of the reins--
over to a God who, when He came to this earth,
then died and rose back to life,
gave me worth.

Christ saved me, and He redeems me;
He has taken the old me, the dead me,
and redeemed it, changed it,
into something else new entirely.

brian gave this analogy about coupons and recyclables,
about how when you redeem coupons, you get the cash value,
and when you take in those fivecent recyclable cans, you get the five cents.
you walk in with a piece of paper or aluminum, and you walk out with money.
you redeem what you originally had in order to get something else.
the old becomes new.
what was dead now has worth,
not because of anything that i could do, but because of what Christ did.

you know why else my mind went "crap"?  because it's only NOW that i get this!!!
simultaneously frustrating and awesome all at once.  goodness.

i once had plans of my own, when i had a greenhouse faith,
plans that would secretly bring me glory and "success"
but was outwardly stamped with "Approved by God"
in order to pass everyone else's judgment and good opinion of me.

since i have come to understand what it truly means to follow Christ, though,
things have changed.  my relationships have changed,
(most significantly and most greatly, with my parents and sister)
my heart has been softened, and the overall trajectory of my life has been altered.
the fun part?  i have much less of a clue as to where i'm headed
than when i had everything neatly and firmly controlled and accounted for.

it's terrifying,
and i'm absolutely loving where a Christ-led life is taking me.

...
merry merry Christmas, my friends,
and here's to the next year of life!

ps.  if you get the chance,
go watch this!

I'm better near to you.

>> When asked in a seminar if there were any couples present married for more than fifteen years who still told each other "I love you" everyday, my parents were the only ones in the room to raise their hands.  If I could bottle the warmth that my heart felt when I heard about that, I imagine it'd be a honey sort of color.
 

Overall, I think that my mom and dad have grown quite accustomed to being empty nesters.  Whenever I go home for a day or two, I literally feel as if I'm like a fly on the wall sometimes, because their conversation and the way they interact and communicate with each other has, in my opinion, furthered into a deeper sense of communion with each other.  They'll finish each others thoughts and sentences-- moreso than what I remember, anyway-- and it seems as if they just have something closer.  Despite the fact that my room is ready for me to come back to live in, when I go home, I feel very much like a visitor, looking in from the outside on the world of my parents, and it's something that I marvel.  Actually, even when they're visiting me on campus [aka using my meal swipes to get a free dinner] it's evident that they've embraced this part of their lives, you know?  The whole the-kids-are-gone-now-we-can-focus-on-us stage of marriage.  Not that I'm any sort of expert or even one to throw out theories or anything of the sort, but it's just something nice to watch unfolding before me.  It makes me wonder if I'll ever experience that kind of intimacy and closeness, if I'll ever be presented the opportunity to live a life that, when I observe my parents, seems to look so wonderful.

The thing about relationships of this nature, though, is that I've pretty much made peace with the fact that God is the one who has the best in store for me, and if His will doesn't include plans of marriage, a husband, a family, then so be it.  And so, while I'm content with this, I'm also curious.  While I've certainly experienced the ache and mess of my heart in tumble, I've never actually been in a relationship before.  Being the younger of two, I think I lived somewhat vicariously through my older sister's experiences-- okay, this is what you do, this is what you don't do, this is what should and shouldn't happen-- and the typical (glamorous, unr/idealistic) relationships as portrayed in movies and tv shows.  I've been asked out before, but I handled the situation with about zero gracefulness and completely embarrassed not only myself, but the poor soul who had enough courage to gather his junior-high nerves to ask.  The memory of it is still as crisp and chuckle-at-my-younger-self inducing as ever.  Ah, those days.

(By the way.  I know that there are guys who know me who read this, and just to extinguish any suspicious "Is she trying to be all subliminal and talking to me?" torches that may have been faintly flickering-- this is not directed to any one of you in particular.  Cool.  Moving on.)

It's weird, though, for me to even picture what being in a relationship would even look like.  One of my guy friends said to me a while back that the thought that he couldn't really see me married made him sad, and while I don't share in the sadness, I do share the same opinion about the picture.  I know I'm only twenty, and that while I feel as if time is running out, it really isn't, but in all honesty, if it wasn't for the fact that the whole pair-my-first-name-with-a-cute-guy's-last-name thing still occasionally happens, I'd think that I was completely asexual or something.  (I know, it's a completely middle school thing to do, but hey, it happens.)

I question, then, if the existence of such curiosity is proof of whether or not I really have given control of this area, given my heart, completely over to God.  Is it natural?  More importantly, is it right?  I think that questioning this particular part of my life is actually just sort of a sub-analysis of something about God and God-in-me that I've really become awakened to recently-- the fact that accepting Christ into my life isn't like...isn't like taking Prozac, or any other sort of numbing, zoned-out-state-of-mind inducing.  That it's okay to feel, to really, truly feel.  And not just despair or anger or frustration, but things like this, this love-bug question that doesn't necessarily have a Biblical base or an answer that can be found in a reference, but just is.  I think I try so hard, not so much in trying to earn God's love, but in trying to be righteous, to constantly be in a right state of mind, attitude, emotion, reaction, interaction.  In my opinion, I come off as a generally normal-wavelength person, and even if there are ups and downs, they don't register past a certain level within me because I know the greater truth that God is in control.

Help me out here.  So I fully believe and trust that God is in control of everything, from something as minute as canceling a class that would have originally prevented me from attending the visitation of a friend's father, to this larger mystery in life about love and marriage (which go together like a horse and carriage; sorry, couldn't resist =P).  And somehow, in analyzing how I stand where I stand about this, I've stumbled upon the part where I'm thinking that I've been dismissing my emotions, but the reason that I process through my emotions in the way that I do is because I know that, ultimately, God is in control.  I'm talking myself in circles here, but does anyone understand?

Even though there's a bigger picture operating about this thought, I guess my mind kind of specifically zones in on the romance/relationship part because of everything that I observe that has to deal with the same issue, from seeing how my parents are together, to noticing all the couples in my fellowship, to the books that I read that portray the blossoming of a such a strong, biblical relationship.  (The Christy Miller series, anyone?)  Plus the fact that there was this guy who wasn't sketchy about it, but really forward with me last week.  This kind of thing is like the pink elephant in the room, you know?  It's always there, to the point where you're so used to it that it fades into the regular scene until something happens to make you see it again.

Oh well.  I should have been asleep or at least ready to go to sleep a few hours ago, but no matter.  Apparently, the whole eight-hours-of-sleep thing is a myth, and it really ranges anywhere from five to eleven hours.  Or something like that.

You are what you love...

...and not what loves you back.

Mom: Don't let the superbug bite you!

So there are definitely many perks to living on campus-- the luxury of literally rolling out of bed twenty minutes before class starts and still getting there on time, being able to get more involved with organizations without having to worry about late-night commuting or being mugged in a parking garage after dark, and the ability to spontaneously wander campus and its surrounding areas, just to name a few.  If there is one thing that I had to pick that tops the list, though, it would be this: I now know, without a doubt, that I love my family.

I know it sounds strange, and it may even sound ungrateful, but I can't quite explain it.  When I was younger (as in, still living under my parents' roof), I always questioned whether the emotions I felt towards them was truly love, or just a strong attachment by default of me having been born into this particular family.  If I truly loved them, I reasoned to myself, I wouldn't put them through so much of the hassle that I do, what with my attitude and backtalk and the whole "I'm-being-good-because-I-want-something" act that they could always see right through, and yet they would humor and indulge me anyhow.

And now, whenever I go back home and visit, something tugs at my heart that's more than just nostalgia.  I don't know exactly what it is, but I do know that it is indeed affirmation of the love that I think I've always known I'd had in my heart, but for some reason, it takes going away for it to come out.  (The whole distance makes the heart grow fonder deal, I suppose.)  But yeah.  I love my mommy and my daddy and my sister.  It took me nineteen years to finally come to that conclusion, but better late than never.  Now that I'm feeling all mushy, new subject!

So I went to Bogart's last week, and I officially feel like a bona-fide college student. =P  Eisley was lovely and signed my ticket (and Chauntelle sang!!!) and they didn't sing their pretty title track but that's okay because I got a tote bag!  I was in the front row, and I'm glad that Kristen had an extra set of earplugs because I would've lost my hearing.  The volume was so loud that the floor was vibrating, and after the concert, I had trouble walking because the soles of my feet felt very funny.  They need to headline their own show and then bring it over here again.  Oh!  But I read in their online journal that they actually CAME ON CAMPUS for a bit to get some coffee.  !!!  They stepped on the same paths that I take to go to class!  Actually, I was bummed and excited when I read that, because I was on campus the entire afternoon and I didn't get to bump into them and do the whole embarrassing "Oh my gosh you're Eisley?!?!?!" fan recognition thing.  Oh, well.  Next time! (=

(And everyone who has never heard of Eisley is now scratching their heads and wondering why I'm freaking out.  So, next band.)

One word for Mute Math: insane.  Oh, goodness.  For having heard of them but not having heard any of their music prior to last Sunday night, though, they were pretty good.  If you want to see what it means to put on a show, they would be the ones to see-- any band that busts out a keytar and has a drummer who finds it necessary to secure his headphones by duct taping around the top of his head and his chin is definitely worth checking out.  Honestly, the guys are like kids in an obstacle course, and over the course of the performance, they all probably produce enough sweat to water a couple gardens.  Goodness gracious.  I couldn't get "Chaos" out of my head for days, and "Noticed" and "You Are Mine" are growing on me.

Speaking of concerts, Switchfoot and Relient K's "Appetite for Construction" tour is coming in November!  Yay, excitement!  I respect Switchfoot, but I'm a bigger fan of Relient K, and I've never been to a big concert like this before, so I feel like I'm making another step towards being an authentic college student. =P  I know, I'm silly.  AND!  I finally risked my life and went to Kroghetto. =X  It wasn't that bad, but I think that had more to do with the company I had than anything else. (=  Ooh, and!  I got purple shoes.  And a bunch of other stuff.  Thrift stores are dangerous places to be, no doubt about that.

PS.  So on October 16th, 2007, I made my first attempt ever at solving the crossword puzzle in the Enquirer, and I was two clues away from completely finishing it!  I'm actually still holding onto that scrap of paper as a momento of one of my rare instances of cognitive brilliance.

for the past year, moreso than anything else,
i have been learning that life is about balance.

mikekuo: (pointing to me) guess how old she is?
lizzywei: *translates into mandarin*
ningning: *responds in mandarin*
(lizzy&mike burst out laughing)
ningning: *quickly says something else in mandarin*
me: what what?!  what did he say?
lizzy: (still giggling) he said maybe twelve or thirteen, and then when we started laughing, he told us not to laugh at you.

me: awwww.


i've been trying to think of a way to write about this cool kid i met yesterday,
but all i can come up with is that snippet of conversation.
i was a little apprehensive going to the welcome-dinner-picnic-thing in his honor last night,
because, well, i've never met someone with a burned face before.  how was i supposed to treat him?

dumb question, i know.  simple answer, i also know: treat him like any other person.
easier said than done, though.  at least, i thought it was.  and then i rang the doorbell,
walked into the kitchen, shook his hand, and joined in on the four-person conversation.

i played him in a ferocious game of badmington, learned that he's sixteen and was born on november 20th,
listened to him as he grumbled (in mandarin, translation courtesy of lizzy wei) about how we eat too much food,
watched him earnestly fold paper into an airplane (yet all the while making fun of singer for making paper stars =P),
and it wasn't until i saw him leap over the side of the outdoor patio in order to retrieve the aformentioned plane that
i realized-- he is just like any other sixteen-year old kid, face-burned or not.  and, i don't know.
i was smiling on the inside just being around him and watching him.

you ever get the idea that we're so used to what we have and what's around us that we don't know how to live?
i mean, that was the feeling i was getting last night with ning-ning.  maybe this is just me being all overly-whatever,
but this kid.  he doesn't let the fact that he has a face that automatically attracts stares and attention get in his way of living.
here is someone who has every reason to hole up in his shell-- and hey, maybe he has-- but he definitely wasn't shy last night.
and it was lovely and refreshing and just...i don't know.  the only way to sum it all up is with that heart-with-a-face emoticon.

anyhoo.