laugh with me

5 minutes ago, I'd poured myself a fresh cup of coffee, and I was about to stick it in the microwave to reheat it. I opened the microwave door and discovered my first cup of coffee, the one I made for myself half an hour ago. I don't think I can tease my parents about senility and forgetfulness anymore.

This is only the latest in a lifelong series of truly special moments in my life, moments that have given hours of laughter to my closest friends. Let me share a few with you to alleviate the seriousness of my last few posts.

When I was 15, my friend Lydia and I were walking to a singing rehearsal when a truck came along doing 80kph and sprayed up head to foot in wet cow poop.

Last year, I went up to Karamoja for a weekend and came down with malaria. Since it was a rare opportunity to hang out with Zach and the Wrights, I didn't slow down very much at all. One afternoon, I hadn't been keeping up with my fever medicine, and I started playing volleyball with a 104 temp. I tried to demonstrate a jump serve and ended up flat on my back in the dust.

Speaking of volleyball, one time I was playing a pretty serious game with people I mostly didn't know very well. I stepped forward to serve...and fell on my face. My foot had been stuck in a soccer goal net behind the serve line.

I'm not even going to venture far into my tripping stories. I've tripped over flat surfaces many a time. I once tripped down my stairs so violently that I skinned my elbow on the opposite wall. If I start telling tripping stories, I'll be typing all night.

One time, I was talking to my mom, and I accidentally referred to a cosmologist as a cosmetologist.

When I was little, I used to pronounce "telepathy" kind of like "tilapia."

It's funny, I've spent quite a bit of time in various groups that started talking about most embarrassing moment stories. My life has been such that I can identify with almost all of them. I forget all the stupid things I've done until someone else starts to tell their most embarrassing moment, and I realize, "Oh hey, I've done that too..."

I don't think having an abundance of embarrassing moments is inherently something of which to be proud, but I've learned a lot through them. I now know that playing volleyball with malaria and a high fever is stupid. If a car is coming fast and there's cow poop on the road, I jump for the bushes.

The most important thing I've learned, though, is that no one can laugh at me if I'm laughing too. The most they can do is laugh with me, and I'm pretty okay with that. So embarrassing moments, come on. Do your worst. I'll just laugh.

hidden immigrant

Hi, I'm Leila, and I'm a recovering third culture kid. As I try to navigate options and American customs, I become more and more aware that I have no idea what I'm doing.

I always stuck out in Uganda; being a mzungu will do that for you. Still, I was comfortable. I could navigate potholes and talk my way out of paying bribes. Now, I'm in America, and I think I blend in rather nicely when I'm wearing shoes and going along with everything, but I feel clueless so much of the time. I think the official term is "hidden immigrant"--I look and sound like I fit, but I'm not really from here.

It's the little things that get me. It feels so rude to me to shake hands with only one hand and without bending forward in respect. I still have a strangely hard time maintaining eye contact with men. It's an everyday conscious effort. I say things like "sorry please" without even thinking about how weird they sound. I thought that after nine months this would all be much easier; the truth is, it isn't. I can usually go through all the right motions now, but none of them feel real.

Sijui. Si rahisi. Bwana asifiwe.

pro-life

I am pro-life. I am pro-every-life. I think that society could get along just fine without the death penalty. Tales of genocide and starvation, past and present, break my heart. I think that the potential for life within a fetus is enough reason to let grow, develop, and be born.

I am also pro-good-life. I think that every person should have experiences of love, community, joy, and beauty. I don't think that people should have to live in fear of crime, corruption, disease, or death. I think that every person should have access to clean drinking water, education, and medical facilities that will not drive them into debt.

I do not understand why these two beliefs, which are inextricably intertwined in my heart and my theology, represent two opposite ends of the American political spectrum. I do not understand how anyone can believe that it is enough to just allow a fetus to be born. If a baby has a right to life, shouldn't he also have the right to a good life?

What benefit does a child gain by being given the right to life if he never has the chance to truly live? If he never has access to basic necessities? If he's never given the chance to thrive?

If you don't want that teenage mom to abort her child, love her and support her as she becomes a mother. Adopt kids who have no other chance at having a real home. Be proactive in loving people rather than reactive to controversy.

If you're going to be pro-life, be pro-good-life too.

homesick

I think about home a lot.

I have a hard time defining, even to myself, what I mean by "home." Uganda is the place I associate with home, but Uganda is no longer the place I left and I am no longer the person who left it. My family lives in Abilene. I live in Searcy. They're both somehow homey now. I'm not homesick for those places, though.

I'm realizing now that I'm not homesick for a spot on the globe or even for an identity within a community. I'm homesick for the surprisingly beautiful glimpses of eternity in humanity.

I'm homesick for those moments when I open my eyes during team devo singing and see worship in the faces of people I love, for the times when I'm praying with a friend and masks are stripped away before God's holy presence. I'm homesick for the times when I want to be with God, living all out for him, so badly that the most eloquent words won't do justice to my desire for him. I'm homesick for the moments of complete clarity when I see the truth about the evil of my sin and then feel God's grace rush in to cover it.

Those are the kinds of things I want, and none of them are tied to this earth. They are pieces of eternity held by God's people, and they are the closest I've ever come to home. I don't know what heaven will be like, but it will be home. The most precious moments in my memory will be magnified and become an eternal reality.

I'm homesick, and it's a bittersweet feeling, but it's absolutely right. I don't want to stop feeling homesick until I'm really home.

The Valley of Vision

Lord, high and holy, meek and lowly,
Thou hast brought me to the valley of vision,
where I live in the depths but see Thee in the heights;
hemmed in by mountains of sin I behold Thy glory.
Let me learn by paradox that the way down is the way up,
that to be low is to be high,
that the broken heart is the healed heart,
that the contrite spirit is the rejoicing spirit,
that the repenting soul is the victorious soul,
that to have nothing is to possess all,
that to bear the cross is to wear the crown,
that to give is to receive,
that the valley is the place of vision.
Lord, in the daytime stars can be seen from deepest wells,
and the deeper the wells the brighter Thy stars shine;
let me find Thy light in my darkness,
Thy life in my death,
Thy joy in my sorrow,
Thy grace in my sin,
Thy riches in my poverty,
Thy glory in my valley.

-Puritan prayer

rooted in eternity.

I got curious about facebook's "religious views" section and its dropdown menu, so I started typing "Christian." When I was about at "Chr," I stopped.

There are more kinds of Christian listed on facebook than there are kinds of deoderant in Wal-Mart, and that's saying something.

How did we become so segregated and splintered? I know the history of it, but I feel like we've lost touch with the reality of what has happened. We are a body that has been torn apart into little pieces. Our condemnation of the sin in the outside world is surpassed only by our condemnation of each other. We want to be right, not because we want to remove all barriers to God using us, but because it satisfies our egos to have the perfect theology.

In The Screwtape Letters, C.S. Lewis steps into the character of a shrewd older demon who is writing a younger demon with advice on how to effectively tempt humans. At one point, the older demon says, "One of our great allies at present is the Church itself. Do not misunderstand me. I do not mean the Church as we see her spread out through all time and space and rooted in eternity, terrible as an army with banners. That, I confess, is a spectacle which makes our boldest tempters uneasy. But fortunately it is quite invisible to these humans."

I think this quote captures the essence of the disease that is infecting the community of Christ in the world today. We are so broken up and consumed with internal problems that we inadvertently serve Satan's purposes. We spend more time arguing with fellow Christians than we spend fighting against true evil.

It breaks my heart. What will it take for us to see the church as a body that is "spread out through all time and space and rooted in eternity?"

time flies.

The semester is two weeks old, and I'm still not quite sure what to make of it.

It's going to be a busy one. I'm taking 17 hours, including a French class for which I didn't have the prerequisites. It'll be okay. There's an excellent chance that I'll come out alive and much more knowledgeable.

That's what I'm planning, anyway. I suppose it would be pretty pessimistic to plan on anything different at this point.

I used to be a pessimist who claimed to be a realist. Now, I'm pretty sure I'm a realist who sometimes pretends to be an optimist. It's sort of funny to act blindly optimistic around pessimists.

On a side note, I've become increasingly aware of the misuse of prepositions in the past few weeks. We too often use them to finish sentences. I try to avoid ending sentences with prepositions, but sometimes the sentences sound unwieldy and awkward when restructured. I should probably start thinking before I speak. That could help. Alternatively, I just could stop caring about prepositions.

Also, I've also developed a new appreciation for orange juice.

This blog has no purpose or direction. You've probably figured that out by now, since it's obviously not cohesive and just barely coherent. Sorry please. I set out to write an update, but I'm quite tired. My brain is just sort of wandering.

I'll suppose I'll just close by saying that I'm doing well. I have good coffee, thought provoking classes, and slightly warmer weather. I officially know my way around Searcy better than I do around any other city in the United States, which sort of makes it feel like home. I can say some cool stuff in French and I got to eat Guatemalan food today.

Life's good. God's great. That's about it.