At Journey's End

A part of me certainly wishes I hadn't let go of blogging for so long (both this space and One Hungry Soul have been entirely neglected for a record number of days, weeks, etc.). Finding that perfect balance of pausing to document and focusing each breath into its present space is often hard, and in such circumstances I tend to swing hard toward the breathing part.

All that to say, please forgive my absence.

In this time I've been gone, I've been gathering up each "brain photo" of once familiar eyes having grown older, of small-town dairies and reverse round-a-bouts, of shattered shells on Pacific shores, and of windy highway roads ascending into chilly fog. Of course my camera came along for most of these experiences, but the flick of a shutter can't always capture the awe or joy or heart-tugs of a moment. So, I bottled them up, have gathered a few pictures as well, and am going to try and summarize my internship and my time in New Zealand as a whole without writing a complete book.

I left off on this blog with my practice of recording things I had found to be grateful for each day, and now that I know I'm on number 331, I'll pick up the ritual in my bedside journal. It's a beautiful way to daily see the hand of God at work and then look back and remember his provision and the joys that the little details of the day have brought. I also left a post on January 3, which was a brief reference point for the emotions whirling around inside me, enjoying the dance of thanksgiving even if it would mean letting go in a few weeks.

So, I suppose the best way to wrap this all up is to share the paintings I left behind at North Shore Church of Christ and include a few pictures of the faces I grew to love so very much.


Painting I: Close-up midway through process.

I mentioned in a post at the beginning of November that I needed to fill more of my time with a measure of responsibility, and so I was going to undertake these two paintings for the church. The hall that we meet in on Sunday mornings has tall, mostly bare, beige walls, so I was looking to bring something in with bright, joyous color and a depth that would bless and inspire others.

While I wanted to paint an image(s) that would be widely applicable to its viewers, I had to draw on something personal in order to impart authentic emotion and message into them. The best way I knew to do that was to look at the things God had been teaching me and bring them before him, asking that I be able to communicate these lessons in a universal way. I will always pray that he succeeds in working beyond my limited imagination and paintbrush strokes to reach others with his personal touch.




Paintings I & II: Each 36''x40'', acrylic on canvas.

The lessons I was (and am) slowly learning are ones he's been trying to teach me for years, ones of trust and care. The eleventh verse of Isaiah 58 was incorporated into one of the base layers of the paintings: "The Lord will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail." I knew it probably wouldn't show in the final image of the painting but was fine with that, as I often like my pieces to be less blatant. The laying down of it in the foundations of the layers was enough for me.

Also, the message of care was important to me. As a small church body and a group of individuals living lives that are ever guilty of not looking at our surroundings with God's observant eye, I wanted attention to be given to the details in our daily environment. Redeeming the beauty of the oft-forsaken. Giving sacred value to the mundane. As I gave time and attention to things around our church building like the sink in the women's restroom, a light fixture in the hall, the doorknob into the kitchen, and upholstered buttons on the back of the old couch downstairs, I hoped to remind viewers to give value to the people and objects we pass by in our everyday life. Even more, to remind ourselves of the beauty God finds in us, ordinary and neglected as we feel sometimes.

The geographical place of the North Shore was also important to this piece because our congregation is a diverse one, and it's beautiful to see how God draws together people from so many different areas of the world and helps them find their common ground and collaborative ability to show his glory. Giving attention to the broader North Shore community was a natural aspect to incorporate on a personal level (because of my affection, planted more than fifteen years ago, for NZ and its people) and an important one for the broader interaction between residents of the North Shore -- not just in an evangelistic way, but in a mutual need of each other, especially within the broader body of Christ's churches. All of this I took and represented in the structure of the root system on the second painting (the longest root representing Motorway 1) and, in the first painting, in collaged pieces of road maps of different neighborhoods in the area.

These were the foundational concepts of my two-piece series (in their most expanded explanation), but the journey from start to finish contained so many unexpected layers and colors that it was a joy to play the role I was able to assume in its creation.


Painting II: On easel midway through process.

My time in New Zealand was concluded with a visit from my mother for the last three weeks. She arrived on January 9th and on Sunday, the 10th, we had a barbecue at my lovely Rothesay Bay "home". It was a chance for her to meet the amazing people I got to know in my three months of interning and an opportunity for me (and Elise) to say good-byes.

Here are just a few people in the church body who my heart so effortlessly swelled for...

















Thank you so much to all of you who supported me financially, and prayerfully, in this endeavor. I will forever treasure the memories, the lessons learned, and the perspectives shifted and broadened. I thank you for your part in this journey.

A Weekend Away

You know those times when you suddenly realize you've stopped breathing? Or, how 'bout, that your breath has been going at a quick, shallow pace for so long that the neglected crevices of your lungs are officially starving for air? Well, knock the drama down a couple notches and you'll find me early last week.

I caught on to my spirit's impatient fluttering on Wednesday afternoon and was able to duck away for the evening to my silent bedroom and a cozy, relaxed "home". It's not that my days are crazy-busy, but they do tend to be long, beginning at 6:30 or 7am with people interaction to some level throughout the day, and a constant pressure (entirely self-inflicted) to be a useful and productive intern (and most of the time feeling like I'm not). These things, mixed with a general lack of energy (I'm still waiting for those ninety minutes of yoga in 104 degrees Fahrenheit to deliver their promised energy boost!), caught me in need of refreshment.

That's why this weekend became so perfect. I had already purchased a bus ticket to Cambridge to visit my sister, Elise, Saturday through Monday. She met me at the bus stop, and we headed straight to Hamilton for the afternoon. We were able to connect with a friend of mine, who was also in town for the day. It was fun to have Elise finally meet her and for us to all be able to talk about her pregnancy (something she wasn't able to broadcast yet when we were in Raglan).

Sunday morning we went to a church in Cambridge with students from Capernwray Bible School, where Elise is living and working as a volunteer through December 18th. That night we had a worship/devotional time on the campus, and I must admit that hearing songs I know well, accompanied by instruments that help drown out my voice a bit, helped me enter into worship more quickly and comfortably than I have in a while. It was soul-feeding.

Oh, and by the way, Capernwray is just plain gorgeous. It includes a beautiful old house with a wrap-around porch and gardens all around, bursting with blooms. My camera was completely enamored.

Between the long walks Elise and I enjoyed together, the fresh countryside air, and silence among birdsong and beebuzz, I was able to slow my subconscious breaths down to an at-peace pace once again.

Now that I'm back in Auckland, life is looking different with a new bedroom in a new household in a new neighborhood. A new normal. That's my goal, to embrace and settle into this particular rhythm as quickly and casually as possible, and establish a new normal.

Unfortunately, my plans were a bit derailed today. I was up most of the night with a tissue box, and my congested head has continued to nag my sleep-deprived body all day, but that's okay. I'm sure I'll be back on my feet and into my (new) regular routine tomorrow.

I would greatly appreciate prayer for my health, as I have been feeling more tired than is reasonable lately, and this congestion stems from a cold that has become an unwelcome companion ever since arriving in NZ.

Also, a month from today I will be in my last weekend as an intern and will be looking to the future. I am prayerfully considering staying on as an intern but in a part-time capacity that also allows for part-time work and, thus, much needed income. Another option includes finding a flat somewhere with Elise after our mum comes to visit for three weeks in January (we've talked mostly about looking in Christchurch, as transportation is good enough there that we could do without cars). A ton of other ideas have been flying around my head, but it's most important that we're each where the Lord wants us and actively trusting His provision, so please pray for wisdom and peace in these areas.



Thank you!
[More pictures from Cambridge/Capernwray are here.]

Camp Life

After going through six days of camp life, it's a familiar experience to feel like one lived through an eternity and a whirlwind all at once. Life outside of the camp routine becomes a bit fuzzy while life in the midst starts to spin. The whole experience must be approached with a sense of humor and the right sort of perseverance - the kind that keeps your feet moving lightly and your spirit grounded firmly - as you recognize this is a brief season.



I came out of the week with so much more respect for my friends that were counselors at The Oaks the summer that I was on the leadership staff as the Arts and Crafts Director. They signed on for four solid weeks of campers! Granted, this was one of the most rewarding things I've done, and I feel quite accomplished now, but it is also a lifestyle that demands great selflessness and a high standard of consistency and alertness. In my case, this looked like undisciplined emotional nine to twelve year old girls who could were obstinate toward me and downright nasty to each other.

Of course, this was not the scenario twenty-four hours a day. Peace and joy extended beyond sleeping hours to one-on-one conversations with the girls, much laughter, and many hugs. It was just that witnessing the meanness that human beings can show to one another wrenched my heart and having to interact much more on a disciplinary level than a more straightforwardly loving one left me drained at the end of each day (though the belief that discipline can be a form of love kept me going).

When I thought I had been drained of all patience and wisdom at the end of each day, I would rest my head on my pillow for a precious six and a half hours, wake up to the stars at 5:30 A.M., and gather with my fellow leaders for an hour to pray and encourage each other. With hot potent tea in one hand and my Bible clutched in the other, I would get to drink from the Source that truly revives.

I think that was the greatest gift I received from the past week. Consistently spending time with my Bible hasn't come easily in the past month or so, and the fact is that most months out of the year 'easy' is a foreign concept, but whether or not it is a natural inclination in my downtime or a consistently sectioned off activity in my schedule, it needs to be done. Not for legalistic reasons of need, but for soul-satisfying, relationship-growing reasons...and ones I am not even aware of until I dig in and open up.

So, as contradictory as this might sound, the past week brought me refreshment. It also brought names and faces into my life that will always be dear to me, especially the ones that were hardest to love.



But oh so many were easy to love! I was one of three Americans at the camp, and almost everyone else was from New Zealand, so I got to be more immersed in Kiwi culture and learn/be reminded of a lot about the lingo and food. For example, the use of as at the end of expressions, such as sweet as, isn't actually a different pronunciation of the word ass, and therefore it's okay for eight year olds to say (ask Elise about that!). Also, canned fruit combined with Neapolitan ice cream is not a strange idea for dessert/pudding, and New Zealand's version of an American hot dog is still a far cry from the real thing (which I really don't mind, since I could take or leave both countries' versions).

As I was saying, though, the people were wonderful, and while I probably won't see most of them again, they'll always bring a smile to my face. The leaders of the camp have passionate hearts for seeing the lives of children touched by God and the story of his Son reaching their ears. That was a beautiful, invaluable thing in which to play a small role.

[Thank you so much to my sister, Elise, for sharing her photos with me. I left my camera safely at home, so the girls you see are from her cabin.]