• About

Musings of a Twenty-Something

Musings of a Twenty-Something

Category Archives: Uncategorized

On Loss and Grace and Saying Goodbye

02 Sunday Jun 2019

Posted by AliciaRose in Uncategorized

≈ 4 Comments

Re-entry, culture shock, the business of moving between countries and cultures… I should have these things “figured out” by now. Since high school graduation, I have lived in 3 countries, worked 9 different jobs, and resided in 7 different houses, trailers, or apartments (not counting short moves like Bible School, temporary living in my friends’ apartment for a few weeks, and the month we slept on the second floor of a cafe in Thailand). I don’t say that as some sort of bragging right. It’s just a reiteration of the facts that my life seems to scream I’m an expert in change, yet I feel like a novice every time.

Despite the novice feelings, I’ve become accustomed to a pattern for how I deal with change. Months before a big move happens, I begin to get pensive and moody. This is when I sit and gaze out of windows and ponder my life in heavy detail. How did I get here? What did I learn? When will the inevitable goodbyes happen? And most prominently, why am I leaving? Each change is a different set of circumstances, hence different emotions ride alongside said circumstances. Sometimes there is relief and gratitude, sometimes there is pure excitement and anticipation. But there is always, always the unavoidable reality that each time I move, I am exchanging one life for another. I am giving up something to gain something else. Sometimes it looks freeing and certain. Other times it looks terrifying and unknown. If I’m honest, it’s typically a mash-up of all the above.

I’ve written about Third Culture stuff in the past. Maybe this somehow connects to the whole grander scheme of things. Maybe this is just a Third Culture Kid (TCK) struggle. But I beg to differ. A wise friend of mine, quoting a podcast, told me the other day that, “We don’t fear change, we fear loss.” That doesn’t sound like an idea that’s limited to a specific set of people. That sounds like a human thing- like we’re all blaming change for being so evil, when it’s really the loss that is at fault. Losing one thing to gain another.

It would seem easier if the thing I’m losing were something negative. I’d be okay with “losing my life to find it” if that meant giving up parking tickets or rainy beach days. But I know that’s not how it works. Sometimes I lose really good things, in exchange for really good things. But the process of the loss/gain thing doesn’t feel good. It feels messy, chaotic in my head, prone to come out as frustration, sadness, or overt silence.

I know each change that has happened was worth it. I know this in my head, at least. I look back and I see the loss and the gain. Some things are “Aha!’ moments where His orchestration of events makes sense to my finite human mind. Others still have big question marks on them, the ones where I sit alone in a parked car, voicing the questions in loud, frustrated tones to the Almighty because I just.don’t.understand.

I don’t mean to make this a dialogue of my emotionally turbulent state. I guess maybe what I’m trying to say is that so often I have a tendency to think there is some sort of “magic” way to “do” change. Perhaps a manual or book with a 10-step plan for guaranteed success of each upheaval that arises.

I was pouring out my frustrations to another wise friend a few months back about what moving does to me. I don’t see myself as an expert on the process, but I know my tendencies and limitations. She sweetly listened for a while, then responded, “Sounds like you’re really hard on yourself to get it right, Alicia.”

Her simple statement slowed my rant down to a crawl. Hard on myself. Like a graceless taskmaster adding more weight than what a person can carry, I know it’s true. I am hard on myself to get it right this time. Hard on myself to not feel so sad, to not dwell on negativity. Hard on myself to not feel the loss so much, because smoothing it over looks easier and less painful. Hard on myself…

Aren’t we all? Aren’t we all eager to move through the unpleasant feelings of loss or change or whatever it is that makes us cringe inside? Don’t we all wish for resolution and the part of the story where “…they lived happily ever after”?

My wise friend wasn’t done talking. “What would it look like to give yourself grace?” She asks. Grace. It seems mushy and soft, not meant for the tough, weather beaten skin of stuff like death and sickness and moving and saying goodbye and hello in the same breath.

Grace.

The word sounds sweet and smooth like honey, not like a word that can carry gray skies and car accidents. But I know that’s not how it works. He wouldn’t offer grace to “help us in our time of need” (see Hebrews 4) if it wouldn’t actually help us. He isn’t going to leave us hanging just because we feel like we’re left hanging. There is a strange paradox going on here that is bigger than me. First of all, that loss is never the end of the story but because it is a part of the story, I cannot rush through its chapters. Second, that grace is a much stronger word than I give it credit for. They go together quite well, actually. The deeper I know loss, the more I know grace.

This isn’t about simply moving from one country to another now. It suddenly got bigger than that. I guess this is about the power of what it is to feel both the joy of life alongside the change- the loss. It’s a messy, vulnerable place.

But I wonder.

I wonder what would happen if we brought those big question marks to God more often. I wonder what would happen if we weren’t working so hard to “get it right” all the time. I wonder how we would treat each other differently if we knew grace more deeply. Maybe we would all be a little messier, but we’d all be messy so it would be okay.

With all that said, I’m still trying to figure this whole moving thing out. Some days I wake up with clarity and excitement. Some days that little blue girl with the pigtails from the movie Inside Out takes center stage and tinges everything with sadness. I’m pretty sure I’ll never feel like an expert in the art of saying goodbye. But this time around is different. For the first time in my life, I don’t feel like I need to be an expert. Grace.

Grace for the change, for the loss, for whatever it is that you feel like you need to “get right.” You are free to let go, friend.

Why Vision and Personal Development Need Each Other

01 Monday Oct 2018

Posted by AliciaRose in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

IMG_6124

I was a happily naive 18-year old at the time. Driving by the homeless shelter on Prince Street on my way home from work nearly every day drove me to this grand idea. After work one chilly fall day, I parked outside the large brick building armed with cookies divided up in little ziploc bags. Within 10 minutes I had befriended a handful of people, given the cookies away, and had some great conversation in the process. Nothing grand or life-changing, but enough to walk away feeling like a million bucks. I was doing good in the world. And it felt good.

Fast forward to a chilly fall day 1 year later when I ducked out of my little basement classroom to hide in the bathroom stall for a while. I can’t do this, Lord. It’s too hard. I don’t feel like giving right now. It hurts. I want to feel good again. How do I even know if I’m making a difference? My perceived expectations of doing good collided with reality when I had to show up every day. Before, all it had taken was a few hours of good works and I was good to go for a while. I could hide away for a bit, work up some more energy, then go out and repeat the process of good works, good feelings. I’ve written about this previously, how so much of what I knew of “mission” life as a teenager coming into adulthood was about a good performance. You come, you give, you sign off with a flourish, you leave. What I had to learn in the trenches of full-time mission was just that. I had to chip away at the thick performance mentality that had been built up over years of short volunteer stints and reading feel-good-save-the-world books. The process of refining my vision was painful and messy. But I needed both the experience of mission that I had craved and the disappointment to wake me up to my own selfishness.

About 3 years ago when I started thinking about where I wanted to head next, I knew 2 things: I wanted to work with/mentor people and empower them to not make the same mistakes I did. As I started looking around, hearing feedback from friends, and experiencing some short-term stuff for myself, I found an interesting disconnect.

I saw mission programs so focused on missions their workers were running themselves to the ground “for the cause of Christ.” I often found these places exhausting. There was no emphasis on sabbath, on rest, on growing personally. Missions was the call, the focus, and the identity, and that was it. The people were frazzled, busy, and quite frankly, a bit jaded.

I saw personal development programs so focused on an individual’s growth that the person would walk away narcissistic, self-consumed, and quite apt to pull you in with the sob story of how they were hurt by their parents/teachers/friends and that’s why they’re so messed up. I found these types equally exhausting. There was no emphasis on vision, on looking ahead armed with truth. Personal development was the call, the focus, the identity, and that was it.

What I slowly unraveled personally began to feel more like a mashup of the two. I saw mission/vision/whatever you want to call it as the place that kept me moving. It was the gas to propel me forward. The problem was that my heart was in bad need of repair. As important as it was/is to have a vision for life, I was stuck because of the things being ignored inside me. I needed to become a participant of life rather than an actor on a stage. These were the slow, heady days full of soul-searching, a 9-5 job, and building deeper connections with fewer friends instead of trying to befriend everyone all the time. It was far from glamorous. As the actor mask began to chip and break, I found my way back to the vision: working with people in all it’s wonderful, exhausting, heart-wrenching, beautiful mess.

When I was given to the opportunity to lead a program unusually focused on these two aspects, it felt like a dream come true. And it is most days. I walk away excited about where the team I’m leading is heading, what they’re learning about God’s heart for people, the complexities of Asian culture, and teamwork. Some days I walk away absolutely exhausted because I can’t force change on people and I’d rather avoid conflict than face it head on.

But the truth I’ve uncovered as a leader has made me realize the vital connection between developing personally and having a vision for life. If we’re going to make it simple and straight-forward, we choose to either learn from pain and discomfort or we stuff it. It’s not even about whether or not you have a “calling” for missions. I’ve met incredibly healthy business people and very unhealthy missionaries. It’s about offering life to the world around you, about becoming a healthier person for your own sake and the sake of those you influence. We can’t have lasting vision without growth. We can’t have lasting growth without vision. And I think that’s true no matter your occupation, location, relationship status, or personality type.

What do you think? What does growing personally mean to you? How did you discover your vision for life? I’d love to hear about it!

 

 

Missions, Feelings & The Unexpected

01 Tuesday Nov 2016

Posted by AliciaRose in Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

I didn’t like cities. As a young prairie child, going to the city meant an hour-long drive one way, hours of grocery shopping, traffic, general traffic noise, and more grocery shopping. It was generally the worst way for a  girl to spend a Saturday.

A few years later in middle school, we watched a little promo video for an inner-city VBS. I remember thinking, Wow I would never EVER want to do that. It doesn’t even look fun. Not 5 years later I was indeed a part of that same VBS and having the time of my life. Even though I was barely out of childhood, my former preconceptions of cities were shattered and replaced with an excitement about city life thanks to the host of opportunities and adventure it presented.

I think God has a sense of humor. Not because I think He is a cruel God and has all manner of tricks up his sleeve, but because His call on our lives when we choose to follow Him is usually way outside of our limited ideas. During teenage years when I thought about adult-hood (which was quite often and with much regularity), there were certain ideas and goals I had in mind. Some things such as career and location were vague. Others were more specific, like whether or not I wanted to name my kids after various cars or opt for Russian royalty instead.

There was one thing I knew that I wanted to avoid: a short-term missions trip to Asia. It appeared to be the “in” thing and seemed like some sort of rite-of-passage for Anabaptist youth. You graduate from high school, work a couple years, go to Asia for a month or more, come back and live small-town American for the remainder of your life. That was NOT going to be me. I would maybe go to visit my missionary friends, but never for some short-lived mission experience.

IMG_5034.JPG

This past winter I did just what I said I would never do (go to Asia on a short-term trip) and found it to be more fulfilling than I had ever dared hope. During that month, Jesus met me in so many real ways, and I had this feeling that I needed to come back someday. It was one of my team members that suggested Thailand. At first the idea excited me, but eventually waned to a lukewarm, half-hearted idea. I didn’t especially love Thailand (although the food and friendly people were nice). I didn’t love it because, well, tropical countries just aren’t my forte. Also, let’s be honest, everybody goes there. And I didn’t want to be a part of the “everybody.” Or something.

 

So I came back to the US and started a new position at work and moved to the city (It’s true. My childhood self never saw that one coming). I have no regrets on these decisions, but my heart was restless, wanting something else that seemed elusive and far out of reach. Fast forward several months and the Thailand idea hits me in the face again. This time I know it’s a wake-up call because the restlessness was burying me in discontent and apathy. Jesus never forced me to this decision, but I know. I know that following Him even if the feelings aren’t there brings so much joy in the end. It’s always, always worth it, even when it might be hard or non-glamorous.

This winter I’m going to Thailand for 2 months. Call it a personal vision trip or trying out the overseas missionary life or a desire to see what Jesus is up to. Whatever it may be called, there is a clear distinction in what my ideas once were and how graciously He has guided me in HIS direction, which always end up being way better than my plans.

If I’m honest, there is a piece of it that is scary when I think about plunging into this kind of risk again. Living by faith is always harder in the moment than looking at it from the outside. But I’m also convinced it’s the best part. I don’t always know or even need to know what it looks like. No matter, I want to live in such a way that I need Him to come through for me. Experiencing that kind of faith is much harder and more beautiful than can even be described because every experience is different.

I don’t want to go to Thailand, but I’m going anyways. Not because I have reached a plateau of grandiose spirituality where nothing is felt and everything is obedience. Rather, because I am a messy, little human who has an ingenious and kind Father. He prepares accordingly, and gives the want the moment I need it and not a minute sooner. The Great Commission was never about my feelings anyways.

 

“Let’s show up to life. Let’s prove how beautiful it can really be. Let’s face the conflict, redeem it, conquer it, and allow it to mold our character. Let’s participate in what God is doing in the world.” [Donald Miller]

 

 

Imperfection

15 Monday Aug 2016

Posted by AliciaRose in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

My avid, author-prone friends say writing is hard.

I didn’t agree… It came and comes naturally on journal pages and word documents that fill up rapidly when there is a story or idea to remember. Writing is easy… until the blank card for my friend’s baby shower stares up at me and the research paper on refugees cannot include personal pronouns and blogging goals become murky and disorganized in a pile of unfinished ambition.

Imperfection is scary. Especially when you get to be imperfect on something like “the cloud,” between cooking blogs, well-educated theologians, and DIY professionals that live on Pinterest. I would much rather appear to have my act together before delving into this world of blog life and writer’s block.

So why bother?

A few months ago I wrote a series about Third Culture Kids. I needed to write it, more for myself than anyone else. Crazy as it may sound, it was a huge part of letting go of the more painful parts of that era. Throwing a personal story out there for the whole world to see is intimidating but strangely freeing. I got to hear from close friends, acquaintances, and complete strangers. And we all had something in common. Suddenly my story wasn’t alone anymore, and there were no excuses to feel sorry for myself.

But then writers block happened, and everything I would start always stopped short. I hadn’t “arrived” yet and writing about playing piano in a park ended in a cliche manner. That’s just it though, isn’t it? It’s easier to write about something after the fact than to admit imperfection in the middle of it.

I tried writing the Third Culture stuff for two years. It laced my journals and conversation, but it was just too personal and unfinished to share. That’s what I thought. Then this past spring it finally clicked and I wrote and wrote and it wasn’t so confusing anymore. A few weeks ago we went up north to bushland, Ontario, for a short, quick visit. Suddenly childhood was front and center again as we sped past familiar businesses and caught up with old friends who played a huge role in my life so many years ago. We drove back in to pick wild blueberries and now I’m (mostly) adult enough to not be scared of bears and actually save the berries that I pick instead of eating all of them.

The truth is that real-life story is still happening, always happening, and after spending so much effort on one topic, I began realizing that being a Third Culture kid isn’t the point. It’s important and it matters and it needs to be addressed, but it’s just not the point, no matter how much I selfishly want it to be.

It’s so good to learn from the past and seek forgiveness and redemption in the painful stories that are known. The problem is that I had gotten stuck in the past and distracted the pain by living for the future. When A, B, and C happen, when I go back to this place again, when that person apologizes for what they said… It’s easier to imagine the future than it is to embrace this day, this moment.

Maybe it’s because I’m a visionary and most days I have to mentally pull myself back into the present and choose to see today, in its ordinary and mundane tasks, as a gift, too. Imperfection shouldn’t be an excuse for laziness or apathy. I guess I want to see my imperfections as a place where grace can abound. My dear grandma has often said, “I want to grow old gracefully.” I’m not “old” by any means, but watching her gives me hope that it is possible to do so.

I want to live gracefully. Not settling for imperfections and mistakes, but not letting it hold me back from living with integrity and honesty a little more each day.

“And if you should forget [Jesus] for minutes or even days, do not groan… but begin anew… every minute can be a fresh beginning.” (Frank Laubach)

 

 

 

 

Recent Posts

  • On Loss and Grace and Saying Goodbye
  • Why Vision and Personal Development Need Each Other
  • On Motorcycles, Malaysia, and Missions
  • Collaborating: Third Culture Adults and Those Who Are Not
  • Missions, Feelings & The Unexpected

Pen Scratch Archives

  • June 2019
  • October 2018
  • August 2017
  • April 2017
  • November 2016
  • August 2016
  • May 2016
  • April 2016
  • November 2015

Categories

  • Culture
  • Expectations
  • Malaysia
  • Mission
  • Third Culture
  • Third Culture Adults
  • Third Culture Kid
  • Travel
  • Uncategorized
  • vision
Follow Musings of a Twenty-Something on WordPress.com

Social Media Connections

  • View Alicia Esh’s profile on Facebook
  • View miz.alicia’s profile on Instagram
  • View mizteacher’s profile on Pinterest

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Cancel

 
Loading Comments...
Comment
    ×
    Privacy & Cookies: This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this website, you agree to their use.
    To find out more, including how to control cookies, see here: Cookie Policy