December 25, 2013

Coming to America

Well, I've been home for a week now, and wow, what a whirlwind time it's been! My heart is so overjoyed with all the love that has been poured out to me over the last seven days!

I posted a quote from F. Scott Fitzgerald earlier this week, which seemed especially fitting to me during my brief time home over the holidays. And while it is true that some things around my neighborhood have changed, the important things are still there. The Louisiana accents that flew with me from Dallas to Baton Rouge, the towering oak trees along the streets as we drove home from the airport, the warm, humid air in the middle of December, my mom's Christmas decorations and the smell of my house, they're all the same. And after 24 hours of travel on almost no sleep, it felt like all these things wrapped their arms around me and gave me a huge, welcome-home hug.

It's been 14 months since I've been at my house in South Louisiana - fourteen months since I had my last plate of fresh cajun cooking, or slept in my bed, or hugged my best friends. But I suppose for me, it's not that I feel as if I've changed (although I know I have) or outgrown this place in those 14 months, it's that now I'm really taking notice of the things that matter to me. As if I'm trying to breathe them in like the sweet, Southern air that raised me - holding it in my lungs until they burn with the fullness.

But an important difference now is that while I'm seeing friends and family here, there are family and traditions I left behind in Budapest. I can't help but feel torn between two places, wanting to be in both places at one time. So while I spend time at home, Hungary is still on my mind. I see my life here and want to share it with all my friends...

Like my university (complete with purple and gold Christmas tree)

our mascot, Mike the tiger

and what we do at my school for fun (beat UAB in basketball)

my friends


and family

(whom drive to Louisiana sometimes to surprise me)!

But mostly I'm trying to share my story; attempting to communicate my life in Hungary while showing a glimpse of where I come from, and though feeling pulled in two directions is not easy or ideal, it's a position I'm blessed to be in.

Now as we celebrate the long-awaited birth of our Lord, whether near or far from home, let us all remember the gift of love given to our world and take notice of all the ways He has blessed us throughout our lives.

Wishing you and yours a very merry Christmas.
Nagyon boldog karácsonyt mindenkinek.

Amy


"It's all right, children. Life is made up of meetings and partings. That is the way of it."
Kermit the Frog; A Muppet Christmas Carol



December 17, 2013

"It's a funny thing coming home. Nothing changes. Everything looks the same, feels the same, even smells the same. You realize what's changed is you."

                                                             - F. Scott Fitzgerald

December 11, 2013

A Day in Love

I carry a love greater than myself
Every morning blessed with weary eyes blinking away slumber
   discovering more where previously imagined full

My love holds me close
A fortress of words, articulated and unuttered,
   impenetrable by man
Broken only from within

My love has a face.
It comforts me daily behind the eyes of strangers
   seeing me as I really am.

But who am I today?
Who will I be tomorrow?

My love daily walks with me
   assuring, supporting, causing indescribable pain

Soul-wrenching sadism it seems
A love that pulls me one way dutifully
   another expectantly...guiltily

The security of a shell no longer comforts the pearl
   its match a world away.

My love is a silhouette
   contoured toward the shadow of one it can no longer reach
   ...grasping still

Yet in the moments before sleep
   as my love calls for its other half
   there is an echo of what was

A life not lived in parallel
A time where my heart did not struggle to beat
   with severed, disjointed caverns
   but with fullness,  however naive

And in this moment there is peace

Soft moonlight illuminates my love
   stripped of consciousness
Remembered wholeness comes as easily as breath
The slowing of time where nothing is ever lost

Love simply is and I am complete.


November 13, 2013

Together we are enough

The following is a sermon, my first sermon, which I gave at St. Columba's Church of Scotland in Budapest on November 10th.


Haggai 1:15b-2:9

on the twenty-fourth day of the month, in the sixth month. In the second year of King Darius, in the seventh month, on the twenty-first day of the month, the word of the Lord came by the prophet Haggai, saying: Speak now to Zerubbabel son of Shealtiel, governor of Judah, and to Joshua son of Jehozadak, the high priest, and to the remnant of the people, and say, Who is left among you that saw this house in its former glory? How does it look to you now? Is it not in your sight as nothing? Yet now take courage, O Zerubbabel, says the Lord; take courage, O Joshua, son of Jehozadak, the high priest; take courage, all you people of the land, says the Lord; work, for I am with you, says the Lord of hosts, according to the promise that I made you when you came out of Egypt. My spirit abides among you; do not fear. For thus says the Lord of hosts: Once again, in a little while, I will shake the heavens and the earth and the sea and the dry land; and I will shake all the nations, so that the treasure of all nations shall come, and I will fill this house with splendor, says the Lord of hosts. The silver is mine, and the gold is mine, says the Lord of hosts. The latter splendor of this house shall be greater than the former, says the Lord of hosts; and in this place I will give prosperity, says the Lord of hosts.

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I’m not a pastor. I have no degree on my wall, and in fact I’ve never taken a single religious course. I am one of you. On any given Sunday morning I’ll be sitting right there in the third row next to Éva and Mariateresa…(neither which were there. I’ll try not to hold that against them…)

Needless to say, I was extremely flattered and scared when Aaron asked me to give the message this week. More appropriately I think I froze, deer-in-the-headlights-style, when he asked. This is a level of public speaking that I’ve never attempted. I don’t know how to deliver a message as powerful and captivating as Richard Otterness’ sermon last week or as historically and theologically nuanced as Aaron’s, but somehow, aside from the normal jitters and butterflies, I’ve become surprisingly calm…comforted even…because I know that I’m among friends. I’m among community.


So here it goes…

I’ve always been a church-going person. It’s a place that I’ve always felt comfortable, safe, accepted. For the most part, my presence at church is not something that I can attribute to my own devotion or motivation even. No, I owe my church-going ways to my mother, which I think is true for most of us. Ever since I was a child she had me involved. She dragged me out of bed as a teenager for Sunday school on the few Sunday mornings I was home and not traveling with my football team; when all I wanted to do was sleep a little bit longer – not even skip church entirely, just skip Sunday school…that one extra, glorious hour of sleep. And I don’t think it was her intention, who knows maybe it was, but she gave me a second home. She gave me a safety net. The community that nurtured me as a child is the same one that encouraged me to fly across the world a year ago to live and serve in Budapest, Hungary. 

It’s an amazing thing. Community. And it’s something I was reminded of as I read Haggai’s prophecy.  
But before I get too caught up in my own story, let’s turn to the text. To get some historical footing, which seems to be so necessary in so many of the Old Testament stories, let’s take a look at what was happening for the people of Judah at this moment in time. The house Haggai is referencing is Solomon’s temple in Jerusalem, which at this point was in ruin. And when he speaks of the “remnant of the people,” Haggai is referencing those who have returned home to Judah from their exile in Babylon over two decades before. And actually, in the verses directly before our passage, we learn that Haggai reprimands these remnants because they were more focused on rebuilding their own homes and lives after their return than they were on restoring God’s house. But long story short, God stirs their spirits and the reconstruction of the temple begins.

So looking at our passage now, construction on the temple is already underway, and honestly it seems as if the work is just not up to snuff. The desire and motivation to glorify God is just not there. So, God speaks through the prophet Haggai to a people who really sound as if they feel like disappointments. “Who of you is left who saw this house in its former glory? How does it look to you now? Does it not seem to you like nothing?”

Now, the footnotes in my Study Bible say that those who actually saw the wonder of the temple before would have been at least 73-years-old at this point, which is to say that there were very few IF ANY that have seen the old temple and made it through the exile. So those working day in and day out in the hot sun, they’re the leftovers – the remnants of a once great house that they’ve actually never seen with their own eyes.

Has anyone ever felt like this? I think it’s safe to assume we’ve ALL felt this way at one time or another. We’ve all felt like we’re not good enough. Maybe you’re the younger sibling who never seemed to be able to live up to your older brother or sister’s legacy, or maybe the dancer who never got put in the front row… For me it, of course, it had to do with sports. I played football, or soccer as we call it in the States, at a pretty high level when I was in high school and on into university. This included playing on a traveling, so-called “premier” team as well as for my high school team. And if I’m being honest, my school team was probably the best team in the state on more than one occasion. But for one reason or another, we just could not win a state championship. And whether our coach noticed or not, she always, inevitably, compared us to the school’s state-winning team from years before…how dominant they were and how cohesive they were as a unit. And every time, their shadow got bigger and bigger until it felt like it completely covered us. And at the time, when you feel like you’re failing, that shadow from the past seems impossible to step out from under.

Whatever your experience is, we’ve all felt like we’re not enough, like we’re living in the shadow of those who have come before us. And when you’re in this position it’s so easy to simply accept that as your limit…no matter how hard I try, I’ll never be good enough, so why even put forth the effort?

In my opinion, I think that’s how the Judeans felt here in these verses from Haggai. What hope do they have of bringing back the most essential symbol and meeting place of their faith? They are not good enough, they are not skilled enough, they are not (fill in the blank) enough…They are not enough.

But God doesn’t accept this mindset. He has expectations of us, but above this, He is with us. “‘But now be strong, Zerubbabel,’ declares the Lord. ‘Be strong, Joshua son of Jehozadak, the high priest. Be strong, all you people of the land,’ declares the Lord, ‘and work. For I am with you.’ ‘This is what I covenanted with you when you came out of Egypt. And my Spirit remains among you. Do not fear.’”

Talk about a motivator...

Now, when reading this the first time I couldn’t help but get caught up in the details and the material reality of God’s statement through Haggai. Work to rebuild the splendor of this house. Literally, rebuild this temple. Get back to work and God will support you the entire time, even shaking the heavens, earth, seas and dry-lands. And after this, treasures of all nations will come to this land. The Lord will see splendor returned and bring prosperity to this nation. It will outshine the temple of old…

Yet as I read the text more and more, the less it seemed about the details or the action needed but more about how God addresses those responsible for bringing about this return to glory. Take courage Zerubabbel governor of Judah. Take courage Joshua, high priest, and take courage all you people of the land – to quote one of my favorite movies, “everybody else here not sitting on a cushion!” God through Haggai calls ALL THE PEOPLE together because it is not the rich or the ones in power or the religious leaders alone that are capable of restoring God’s house. These people who think they are not enough – who are overshadowed by the splendor of the past and who just don’t measure up – they are necessary. The past is the past. God is not worried with the past. He is there with them NOW! Working through them to tackle the task at hand and to overcome the burden that they have convinced themselves is insurmountable.

Imagine that for a second…as an everyday, normal Joe working the land and trying to put food on the table for your family. Suddenly you are being called to action in the same way as the governor and high priest. Indeed, you are integral, necessary, for God’s work. And here they are the ones who feel like disappointments being encouraged by God to continue. To keep on keepin’ on even when they feel the most discouraged, downtrodden and useless.

God has given them the abilities and skills to fulfill God’s mission to rebuild his house, but not only this, they will bring it even farther beyond its former glory. The reputation that seemed as if it could never be outdone will simply be a page in the history books as long as they work together to put God back where He belongs, at the center of their lives. And all of this they will do with the Lord’s words echoing in their ears. ‘Be strong.  I know it is difficult, but I am with you in the same way I was with my people coming out of Egypt – leading you by night and by day. Fear not for my spirit is with you and abides among you always.’

God is telling them, 'You, together as a nation, as a community, are enough. I choose to make you enough, and I will continue to make you enough. Take courage.'

And, glory comes to God’s house when the children of God come together to glorify him in their work and in their faith; when they come together and place Him, again, at the center of everything.

But what about us today? Our context has changed so much since Haggai’s words to a struggling, self-pitying people. How does it connect? Well, historical, social, political circumstance may have changed, but those struggling, self-pitying human tendencies remain. Isn’t that the beautiful thing about the Bible? It resonates with us because our brokenness and ignorance won’t change. We will always need God to tell us we are enough. And the truth of the matter is that God HAS chosen to makes us enough. He chooses to work through us every day.  The question is, in a world that seems indifferent at the best of times and downright cruel at the worst, how do come together as a community? What is our temple to rebuild?

Now, if we know anything about the Bible, it’s that in each passage there is much more than meets the eye. So I think it’s safe to assume that, today, God doesn’t want us to build an actual, physical temple. Instead, I think his challenge is to figure out how to overcome our differences and come together: governors, high priests, workers of the land, Europeans, Africans, Muslims, Jews, Christians and everyone in between.

And when it comes to the steps necessary to accomplish this, I must admit I’m as clueless the next guy. There are so many people much more qualified than myself trying to answer this same question, but one thing is sure, I can’t reconcile a worn-down, self-pitying world alone, and neither can you. We must find a way to glorify the one true God, and we must do it together.

The Lord told us way back in Haggai’s day: He is with us. Now is not the time to look upon the past and be deflated by the shadow of what was. Now is not the time to drag our feet and feel sorry for ourselves.  This is the time to realize God’s words and put our faith solidly in his hands. This is the time to hear and believe that we are enough.

He has given us all the talents and skills necessary to rebuild this house and to outshine its former splendor. Being a child of God means playing on an even playing field. We all start on the same level and we are all saved by the same grace. We are not presidents or teachers or doctors or bus drivers or preachers…we are children of God and together we can build upon this temple. Together, we are the temple! Jesus is our foundation of stone and working together we form a temple of humanity, love, forgiveness, understanding, solidarity and faith worthy of the glory of a mighty God. A God who is with us and guides us, always, just as he did his people from Egypt – and with that promise, what fear or question is there? It’s time to come together, with God’s help, to make something even stronger and more magnificent than ever before.

It’s time to get started.


August 30, 2013

Hello, Goodbye or Szia?

I read an incredibly interesting blog post the other day on one of my favorite websites, which is essentially an online community of people serving with different cultures around the world. It's a site another Global Mission Intern serving abroad turned me on to when I first came to Hungary. The piece is from a woman who has served as a missionary with her husband in several places, but most recently Luang Prabang, Laos. She tells us that a change is coming in their lives. They have found a new place to serve and on top of it all they have a new baby on the way. In her life, she says, the packing up, moving out and moving on has become second nature. She describes it as "settling lightly," and her concern is that in the confusion of logistical details she is unable to devote the proper amount of time to saying goodbye - to mourn the loss of a place and the people that have become the setting and characters in one chapter of her history.

It's tough for me to empathize. My only experience so far has been the hellos - the building of relationships and the joy of new, shared memories. At this point I cannot imagine overlooking one minute of this experience, much less jumping forward to the end. But if I think about it, If I had not decided to extend my contract and stay in Budapest for another year, I would be leaving Hungary in less than two months. At the same time, I realized that I've had to say my fair share of goodbyes with my decision to serve here, and what about the goodbyes I've been unable to give? When I separated from my family after the passing of a loved one, how do I say my goodbyes when I'm a world away?

It seems these are impossible to separate. Hellos are not possible without goodbyes and vice versa, right? So I suppose the real question is how do we ensure that each greeting or parting is being cared for in a meaningful way? How do we avoid "settling lightly?"

These questions come to me at a time when I am bracing myself for, and recovering from, what a lot of people may feel is the harder of the two: goodbye. This summer I put my mom on a plane back to Baton Rouge, LA after nearly two weeks together in Budapest. I traveled to Italy, Austria and the Czech Republic to be with friends, only to say goodbye two days later. I became close with 23 wonderful people from around the world at the RCH's Starpoint youth festival, who in reality I may never see again. And to top it all off, it's a time of transition for my office at the RCH. Contracts are coming to an end, new opportunities are cropping up and people that I've been working with everyday for 10 months and whom I've come to love and respect as true friends will no longer be a staple in my daily routine.

My mom and I in Visegrád (believe it or not, this was the end of May)
Just up the river from Budapest in Szentendre
College roommates in Prague!
 and Vienna!
GMIs in Florence, Italy! Lindsey serves in Chiapas, Mexico, and you can follow her adventures HERE!
My Hungarians! Kriszti, Orsi and Dóri. One day we'll get a picture with Dia too :D

And, while I realize this is not the end - far from it actually (October 2014!) - nor does this shift in routine definitively denote an abrupt end to the friendships I've made, it does without question mean change - a rocking of the proverbial boat, if you will, of my susceptible Hungarian life.

But since moving to Budapest, I've noticed that my life is no longer measured in hellos and goodbyes, but rather in "szia" (literally pronounced "see ya"). In Hungarian "szia" is used for hello and goodbye, but simultaneously means neither. And as silly as it may seem, this slight change in perspective really helps me cope with the changes I'm facing.

So, what is the difference? To me, the distinction is fundamental. With szia, there are no definite ends or beginnings, there are only continuations. Even now as I'm trying to distinguish up from down and trying to make a new normal, the people I left behind have not left me. They helped form me, and I take them with me wherever I go.

There's no chance of settling lightly with szia because you never say goodbye to those that affect you the most, you continue to journey on together.

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As a bonus, here are some pictures from the RCH's Starpoint youth festival held in July. Believe it or not, I will write a blog post about it at some point...July wasn't soooo long ago, right? And let's be honest, those of you reading this blog probably know me pretty well and totally expect the ridiculous amount of procrastination I'm capable of when it comes to blog posts.

 Our home for the week. Villa de Csillagpont
 Our amazing international group!
The ecumenical dream team!