Not holding back

One of my favorite pastimes is going to the cinema with a couple of friends to watch a good film. After I saw Rise of the Planet of the Apes this summer I came home acting like a monkey. I actually tried to jump up a tree and climb around swinging from one branch to the next. If I get really into the movie, it can seriously affect my behavior. Perhaps I turn into a primate, or maybe everything I'm thinking suddenly is put to a romantic melody as I drive home, or I could pull out my sleek Smith & Wesson as I walk through a dimly lit street in suburbia. I take my movie watching pretty seriously. After Apes I ended up scraping my knee. So maybe I'm no chimpanzee. My life does not have a joyous ensemble of friends popping out of nowhere to sing with me throughout the day. But I can dream. I like to imagine I could do all those things.

Last night my buddy and I went to see The Debt. The movie was solid. I have a new celebrity crush on Jessica Chastain (who was also in The Tree of Life and The Help this year). In this movie she and a couple of guys are Israeli secret agents on a mission in Berlin. It was very fitting then for me to leave thinking I was some international mastermind able to speak a zillion languages and hop around from one country to the next to complete the mission I'd been given. Oh, but then maybe I could be. It's certainly more feasible than turning into a talking ape. Maybe I can connect with this theme a bit more realistically. The international spy genre is an appealing one for a lot of guys, and it resonates with me a lot too.

By next Tuesday I'll have arrived at my new apartment in Europe, right off the Bosphorus River as it pours into the Sea of Marmara. Most likely I'm not going to have a handgun nor will I have become a badass martial arts fighter. But just knowing that I'm going to be abroad makes me want to become better at everything I do. It's an opportunity to start fresh and develop new habits and ways of living. I want to speak every language a little bit more fluently, to run faster, to be more spiritually grounded and attentive, to take better quality photos, and to create more art. I also want to learn something completely new, like to play the piano. Whatever my "assignment", I want to give it my all. I want to live in a such a way that when I look back on these days I know I lived them to the absolute fullest. I may not be on a classified mission for the government, but I am on a mission. My mission is to live life with such drive and significance, so passionately and compellingly, that it begs a seemingly fictitious movie-like, supernatural explanation.

Seeing Parallels as Anticipation Builds

Every time I sit down to blog, all the thoughts that I had planned to write down vanish. It seems that there is a magical threshold that once I step out of the shower, a place where I contemplate all the boring details of my life (sometimes I even do math), I forget all the things seemed important. But I better figure it out because I've got to go pick up my mom from work in half hour.

For the last hour or so I've been sitting at a café in Lincoln, Nebraska. It's where I grew up and spent all of my childhood. Six years ago I left Lincoln and never looked back. Then eighteen months ago my mom moved back here, and now I'm here to visit. In some ways, Lincoln hasn't changed a bit. My high school still smells exactly the same, the wind still blows over the field-like grass on the side of the road, and being ten miles away means you're on "the other side of town". But thing have changed too. The people seem more diverse, there is a bike lane that cuts through downtown streets, and I've found a few excellent local places to wine and dine (last night's dinner at Bread & Cup with my best friend from elementary school for example). The city is changing and growing for the better; it's nice to be back and see its evolution.

When I was visiting my former high school on Tuesday something clicked for me. For the average onlooker, America is considered to be a "Christian" nation and Turkey is a "Muslim" nation. Lincoln Christian School was, and is still, a private K-12 school that errs on the conservative side of Christian living and education. The school where I'll be teaching this fall is similar. In Istanbul I'll be teaching at a private K-12 devout Muslim school. I'll basically be working 8-5 with a lunch break and teaching 25 hours each week. Identifying these parallels helped me to better understand what my life might be like, how I'll potentially be viewed by the students and staff around me, and what I can do to make that transition easier.

The anticipation is building as I prepare for my departure on September 5th. It's going to be drastically different from the life I've had in California or Nebraska. I'll be a full-time educator working with kids and living in a lively city rich in history, art, and booming with opportunities for new experiences. Just at the thought of living in Europe again I'm excited but more importantly being back at my home church last weekend and visiting my mom this week (with a flight to my dad's tomorrow) God is affirming me in the task he has called me to do.

not there yet

We are finally approaching the end of our four weeks of training and tomorrow morning is the test. Against all odds and my normal custom I've actually already typed up a review and am mildly confident that I'll handle it okay come the 9AM exam. For the past month I've been getting up no later than 7:20 every morning in order to make it to my first team session at 8AM and classes continue for several hours until we have practicum after dinner. While the training has had its own stressors it has not been the learning of the new material that's been the most challenging. Today, I am once again reminded that I'm not like Jesus, that I still have a lot of room for growth and restoration. I don't respond to people with the compassion that I actually want to.

With this being the end of our training, I anticipated being mentally and emotionally prepared to move abroad and begin teaching. Granted, since we don't yet know what age level we'll be teaching at the school and my roommate situation isn't confirmed, I'm still fairly uncertain as to what I should expect. Mentally I've been preparing for the worst; I've been asking the Lord to help me be ready for these unknowns. Last month when I arrived in Pasadena to our training I had been anticipating rooming with my buddy Alex once we arrived in country. Then I quickly learned that there was potentially a third roommate in the mix. The additional guy with all his quirks and ticks hasn't ever jelled well with me. So I have been asking God to give me compassion to see this man with the gracious love that Jesus sees him.

It hasn't happened.

I wish I could say that it has; I wish I was ready to start living with him and be stretched in this area. Even if I thought I would be able to cope him I would be satisfied with my willingness alone. But each night as we sit chatting as a group I feel as if Alex and I are helping a junior high kid through a rough week at summer camp. In reality however, there is a man next to us the age of my father. That is not something I can handle for the next ten months. As much as I try, I can't do that every day for a lot longer; certainly not for a year living under the same roof.

What keeps running through my mind is that I ought to love my brother, whom I can see and whom I'll be working alongside. What does the expression of that love have to look like? Each minute with him takes work as I try to be more patient, to listen, extend grace, and offer prayer; but when I leave a meeting with him I've lost hope again. In fact, I leave annoyed and frustrated. We simply don't click. Can I be a spiritual brother by praying and being in intentional communication with him without having to see him every day in order to demonstrate that? At this point, I don't know what else to do.

This man is a reminder that I need more of Jesus, and for that he is a blessing.

Relationships

For better or worse, you have come across my first blog post. Most of the time endeavors like this don't last too long as the exuberance of sharing my deepest feelings with the world loses its allure when stifled by the reality that my process isn't of great significance to anyone but myself. But for whatever reason I've decided to make an effort to write more; maybe being away from my home I'll feel like I can still connect with everyone. Connection is one of our greatest needs as people. At least for me I find being genuine with others breeds more authenticity, whether in times of strength or brokenness, the vulnerability bonds us together. Of course, seeking to do that on the internet is misguiding as Facebook, Skype, and blogs can't fulfill like real relationships.

Relationships in "real life" tend to be a lot more risky. With the greater risk comes greater growth. The last week in training has brought up some issues for me personally. As we build our team and prepare for our departure, I have become increasing aware of the differences among us. Rather than focusing on our similarities I'm finding myself spending much of my energy on trying to get along with people. Most of the people at the TESOL training are like-minded enough that we mesh well. I've enjoyed playing a card game called SET or going out for a drink with various teachers headed to other locations. However, with my own team I don't see a lot of ways to bridge the gaps. Without getting into it, I'll say there is one person on my location team that always requires me to grow in patience when we talk, while the others, at best, are simply at different life stages.

When I left Orange County I was a part of an amazing church community that both embraces and fosters being a young creative who follows Jesus and submits to his word. I was surrounded by people who had similar passions and talents, people who had issues but still encouraged one another in prayer. Being at training has challenged me in a new way to see people for our similarities and not our differences. It's a challenge. Coupled with new relationships with fellow teachers that I'd like to see flourish yet and mixed with hopes to return to some people back in Newport Beach, my heart is torn.

Right now is not the time for me to say any more as I am desperately fighting sleep. Every blink carries my head down farther toward total blackout. I continue to attempt to be patient with those in my team, to grow and extend as much grace as I have been granted. I'll be back to share more later as I prepare for this grand adventure.