Between Two Worlds

As humans, we like to categorize. Compartmentalize. As Christians, we like to talk about “learning a lesson” and imagine filing it away in our cabinet of spiritual accomplishments. We say, “God taught me a lesson about patience.” Wouldn’t it be nice if we could check off that box, sign the paper, and file it away – finished forever? “Yep, I’ve learned that one. I’ll never be impatient again.”

It gives me a sense of control to think of my walk with Jesus as a college course with a syllabus. God lectures me and I complete the assignments. Once I turn them in, they’re done. Never to be revisited. I might get a good grade or a lousy one, but either way I’m moving forward and can lazily forget what I’ve just learned. I only learned it so I could do well on that test or paper, right?

The Christian life is too complicated – too mysterious – to comprehend in this way. It’s not a series of papers to be completed, or a hallway full of magical doorways to walk through. I have no tangible way of measuring my progress.

There’s a paradox here that I don’t understand. On the one hand, God tells us that we have everything we need for life and godliness. He tells us to be perfect as He is perfect. In some sense, every believer already possesses perfection of character. God chooses to see us through the lens of Christ, omitting our flaws because He paid for them on the cross. On the other hand, we’re living in an imperfect world surrounded by imperfect people. We mess up. We fall down. We get up. We say we’ve learned our lesson, but we often make the same mistake again. This is the frustration of life on earth.

So I can’t say how I’m doing or how far I’ve come. I dare to suggest that those questions don’t matter. I can’t improve my character. God has to do it. I am “improving” only as much as I am surrendering to His work in me.

I can already feel the pain when I think about saying goodbye to everyone here. Part of me wants to do something like this again; go teach at a school in some adventurous place for a year or two. But another part of me craves stability and living in a community that doesn’t change so much, so often, as the one here. Wanderlust…stability. Adventure…long-term friendships and relationships. Where’s the balance? I haven’t figured it out yet. But I know that after this experience I will have a new understanding of both military and missionary kids.

I’ve been thinking some other thoughts. They’ll come later.

I am surfacing momentarily to say that I am alive and – at last – well. I recovered from the flu just in time to spend a weekend off in London with Rachel. She fell in love with the city and I realized afresh that part of my heart abides in Great Britain.

We got to see “Wicked,” which was incredibly good. It was my first Broadway-scale play, and I am hooked.

We saw many beautiful and famous sites and enjoyed good weather throughout the weekend. And what London trip is complete without fish and chips? It was a near perfect weekend off.

A week later, on February 4, my friend Jana flew in from the States for a two week visit. As soon as she arrived, I got sick again with chills, aches, and another chest cold. It wasn’t as bad as before, but I was partially incapacitated for the first few days she was here. Antibiotics came to the rescue, though, and started kicking out the infection within a few days. I took another weekend off so we could travel to Interlaken and up into the Swiss Alps for a few days. I never tire of those mountains. We also took a day trip to a couple of German castles (or rather, castle ruins, but beautiful nonetheless). Otherwise she’s gotten a taste of my life in the dorm, and we’ve had fun doing the regular tasks like laundry and mega-grocery shopping. I’ll be sad to see her go on Monday. Perhaps next week I’ll get a chance to post pictures from our time together and the trip to Switzerland. For now, I just wanted you all to know that I am alive, and I am tremendously thankful not to be sick anymore.