Catching Up

It's been almost two months since my last post. Lest I drift from negligence to complete irresponsibility in blogging, here's an update:

I continued to search for jobs, and even interviewed for a few options, but nothing came up. This is odd because I am awesome. (Maybe I was too cocky.)

When I was not job-hunting, I was practicing for my audition for the Master of Music program at U of L. Once I had finished playing, my nerves completely fried, I still had to sit down for my interrogation with members of the music faculty. Did I say interrogation? I meant interview. "No pressure," they said. "Stop spouting off unnecessary information," I told my brain. They asked, I rambled, they laughed, I turned red, they accepted me. What? They accepted me! Yes, you are reading a post by one of the U of L's newest graduate students! Classes will begin in September and I could not be more excited to haunt those narrow halls once again.

Practicing ALL THE TIME.

I realized that it was time to go home, and arrived by bus in Kelowna just in time for my mom's birthday. It was wonderful to spend a week with my family, enjoying the beautiful mountains and spring air. Kelowna is a fantastic place and I wish it were home to me. It looks like a home, with its mountains, lakes, and sun, and feels like home, with family and a new-but-already-comfortable church, but it is not home for me at this moment. All the same, leaving was difficult.

Well, we tried.

The fruitless job search continued, which brought up an obvious question: what about camp? Camp Evergreen, where I have spent a good chunk of May through October for the last four years, seemed an obvious back-up plan. But camp, and camp ministry, can never be a back-up plan. It's too exhausting and requires too much intentional diligence to be a back-up plan. It can only be THE plan. While I was contemplating this, God intervened and said that yes, it would be THE plan. (Side note: I feel preachy, but I'm just telling this story. I never would have made the decision without hearing from God. God is a huge part of my story.)

And so, for the fifth season, I packed my life into plastic tubs and made the drive. I spent the first week re-certifying as a challenge course instructor (side note: that's part of 25 Before 25!) in very cold, windy weather. After a day of emergency drills in which I encountered a 127-Hours-type situation, I am again fully certified (certifiable?) to spend hours and hours clipping and unclipping our guests into our zipline. (That sounds bitter. The only bitter part is the tendency for gross spring weather there. I really do love my job as a CC instructor!) I have so much more to say about camp. It's going to have to take up another post of its own.

What to do if Duracell gets stung by a killer bee while K2 is climbing
and the only people around are Sunshine and Fender

I am writing this now from Lethbridge, where I am spending this week catching up with friends, enjoying the Southern Alberta spring, and participating in various musical activities. (Plug: Lethbridge Symphony Orchestra concert is tomorrow night, U of L theatre, tickets at the door. Ukrainian dancers, people! Will I get kicked in the head? Will my music be blown off the stand by a whirling dervish? Will I finally lose my hearing from all that cymbal crashing? Who knew being a horn player was so dangerous...)

Lethbridge spring

I have been immensely blessed in these two months. God has been providing for me in all ways. As always, I look forward to whatever is coming next!

[Not] In Danger

Today we had a bit of a scare in Lethbridge. All day we experienced extremely high winds (gusting up to 100 km/h) which snapped trees in half, tore shingles from roofs, smashed car windows, and toppled power lines. To add insult to injury (I guess in context, more like injury to insult), a wildfire developed just west of the city. The high winds propelled the fire to spread extensively, endangering homes outside of the city. Areas were evacuated, roads closed, and the entire Westside of Lethbridge became virtually isolated from the rest of the city. About five hours later, the city reported that the fire had been contained, the evacuation alerts were off, and most evacuees could return home.

Fire is always a possibility, but I have never been in a situation before when it seemed so imminent. My neighborhood was not placed on evacuation alert and it was not one of the endangered areas, but worrying about the possible danger that could result, if conditions were right, made me sick to my stomach. I paced, checking the city's website, an emergency alert website, and various Twitter feeds, about every five minutes. I even tuned the radio to a country station so I could stay on top of the updates! There was no shortage of silent desperate prayers sent up either.

Please, Lord, let us keep our homes. I knew that my life was not in danger. The evacuation notice would be given with plenty of time to leave safely. It was my belongings that I was most worried about. I've often thought about what I would bring if I had to leave my home. The computers, of course, since they hold all of our photos and music. My huge collection of keepsakes. My horn. The photo albums, home movies. A few changes of clothes, a blanket, my purse. I'd raid the bathroom. If there was enough time, a few favorites from my wardrobe. If I ever had to evacuate, I'm sure it would take a number of trips to the car to get everything ready to go.

Tonight, I have learned (or rather, become much more aware of) these two things: first, I am far more attached to my possessions than I had previously thought; and two, I do not handle frightening situations even remotely well.

I generally consider myself to be one of the more level-headed members of society. This is fairly true: I stay calm while others panic about deadlines, I have never had an obsessive celebrity crush, I can approach problems with a realistic view. Over the years I've come to realize that as soon as I find myself in a situation which I perceive to be dangerous, I completely lose my head. I feel sick, I imagine all possible scenarios, I pace, I search desperately for more information.

This happens rarely. As a child, it was brought on by everything from an argument between my parents to the dark storms which I convinced myself would bring tornadoes. Recently, it was brought on by the prospect of a red-eye Greyhound trip to Vancouver, events at camp during one week this summer, and tonight's wildfire. By God's grace, none of these things ever developed into the situations I, in fear, had predicted.

There isn't much purpose in this post, except to put on paper the things I find myself feeling in this moment. Take from it what you will.

Life returns to normal; our God is a good God.

He Leadeth Me

The story is told of a man on an African safari deep in the jungle. The guide before him had a machete and was whacking away the tall weeds and thick underbrush. The traveler, wearied and hot, asked in frustration, "Where are we? Do you know where you are taking me? Where is the path?!" The seasoned guide stopped and looked back at the man and replied, "I am the path."

We ask the same questions, don't we? We ask God, "Where are you taking me? Where is the path?" And he, like the guide, doesn't tell us. Oh, he may give us a hint or two, but that's all. If he did, would we understand? Would we comprehend our location? No, like the traveler, we are unacquainted with this jungle. So rather than give us an answer, Jesus gives us a far greater gift. He gives us himself.

Does he remove the jungle? No, the vegetation is still thick.
Does he purge the predators? No, danger still lurks.

Jesus doesn't give hope by changing the jungle; he restores our hope by giving us himself. And he has promised to stay until the very end.

(From Max Lucado, Traveling Light)

The issue I'm struggling with most, at the moment, is with finding out God's plan for my life. I have so many questions, and so many options, and all I really want to do is find out what he wants for me and then do it.

I thought about Jonah today. God specifically told Jonah to go to Ninevah. Jonah deliberately disobeyed God, but he ended up in Ninevah anyway. God's will couldn't be altered, even when Jonah ran the opposite way and hid.

That's a comforting thought. There's nothing I can do to mess up God's plan for me. I am committed to going where he leads and I am confident that he'll steer me as I go. There's no need to worry about the future.

"Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light for my path." (Psalm 119:105) It isn't a map, high-tech GPS, or even a series of equally spaced streetlights. He'll show me where to go, one step at a time, and I trust him.

He leadeth me, O blessed thought!
O words with heav’nly comfort fraught!
Whate’er I do, where’er I be
Still ’tis God’s hand that leadeth me.

(He Leadeth Me, Joseph Gilmore, 1862)

Storytelling

"Live a better story."

This isn't a new idea; I've frequently been encouraged to live more spontaneously, to spice up my life, and to try something new every day. Most often this is advised with the giver's intent of creating more excitement for the hearer. Adventures are great memories to accompany old age and create fascinating stories for future generations. Basically, there is personal gain to be had by living a better story in this sense.

Recently, however, the intent has changed. I've been urged to live a better story for God. God has given me the gift of life, and he "has come so that [we] may have life, and have it to the full." (John 10:10) Life should be treated as a gift and so it should be cherished, not wasted as many are apt to do. I live to show the glory of God; I exist to serve God and to serve his people and be and to show how amazing he is. To serve God is to live adventurously, accepting the risk of persecution and facing the evil in the world. Living in accordance with God's will for me is my greatest hope and will be the most fulfilling life I could have. To live a better story for God is a noble ambition.

What I have struggled with in the Live a Better Story philosophy is the implication of evil, or sin, in living a non-adventurous life. I have not read the Donald Miller books that describe this idea, and so my knowledge is admittedly incomplete. It has been my (perhaps completely backwards) impression, though, that failing to take advantage of life's opportunities is displeasing to God, since he created them to be enjoyed by his people.

I'm not sure if I believe that God's called everyone to live adventurous lives. Certainly there are those who have been called to such lives, but surely it is possible to please God greatly with a quiet, enduring faith while serving him close to home.

Perhaps the issue I have is with the definition of "adventurous." It is a risk in itself to become a follower of God, and God's will for each of his followers includes many adventures of different kinds. God will use soup kitchen volunteers as much as he'll use missionaries to developing countries.

God has a great plan for each of us. It is my prayer that we would submit to his will and go where he leads. This will be the greatest adventure of all.

What kind of spirit?

Here's the conversation I've been having with God over the last few months...

Sarah: God, I've been thinking a lot about what I should do once I finish my music degree this spring. I can't really seem to come to any sort of conclusion... I don't even really know what my career dreams are. All I really want is to follow your will, which I know is good and perfect and just right for me. Please guide me to follow your will.
God: ... ... ... ...

(Later)
S: God, I know your will is perfect, and even though I can't tell where I'm going, I'll follow you if you'll lead me. I don't need to make a decision for a while anyway.
G: ... ... ... ...

(Later)
S: God, it's really difficult right now to lack answers. I don't care that I can't give anyone an answer to the question, "What will you do next year?" but I do care that I can't answer that question for myself. I'm feeling very anxious and I really pray that you'd open my eyes to your will so I could have some direction.
G: ... ... ... ...

(Later)
S: God, I'm trying very hard to trust in your will right now, but I'm having a really hard time doing that when I can't see where the path leads at all. I feel unfocused and lacking in direction and it's frustrating. How can I know whether I'm following your will? How can I know which opportunities to take and which to pass up? How can I know what to research? I know you're not asking me to sit around waiting for you to place something in my lap... Even if you did that, how would I know it was you who had done it? Father, I've asked for guidance and for you to take my hand and lead me, but I still feel as lost as ever. I know you haven't left me. What should I do?
G: ... ... ... ...

Through all this, God's been patiently trying to develop in me a new kind of spirit: a teachable spirit. A spirit of patience, of peace, of faithfulness. My desperate cries for direction have gone unanswered (for now). I suppose I'm meant to discover the art of waiting in faithfulness and trust. Perhaps only when I can trust God fully and realize that he knows his plans for me will he open my eyes and reveal his will. I know it'll be worth the wait.

To close, a song that matches better my sentiments than my tone: