May Term in New York City

Glittery Changes

I am writing a reflection on one of my poems for poetry class, and thought to myself, “Oh, this could be a blog post!” So here it is! ;) It is written in blank verse (which means there is no rhyme scheme, just iambic pentameter).

Drinking Iced Tea

Some honey-sun contained in mason jars

Keeps bright the golden lively dance of sun

and sings so sweet the clink of crystal ice

On glass- the hopefulness of summer days.

The cloudy shade of separation between

Close friends is in this peaceful moment far

away. Delicious sun means all the more:

We savor every sip and soak up light.

Our knees are toasting, golden hills that rise

and sit between long roads of salmon flesh

- our winter legs. Just like diadromous

road signs, they signal changes, pink to gold.

They signal changes, brave and red as fish

who struggle, die, to jump up waterfalls,

from salt to fresh, without knees, joints, or legs.

Yet here we seem from bloody journeys far,

Though we confess our hearts do bitterly 

Feel changes. Even as a melty butter-sun

Drips glitter from our knees to thighs to calves

A sizzling, roasting pain of fire takes place

Perhaps one day our hearts will glitter too.

Poetry is an exploration. A lot of times when I start to write, I have no clue where I’m going. I may have a vague idea, one phrase, or just a form that I want to use, but that’s it.

     That’s how it was when I started writing “Drinking Iced Tea.” I sat outside of Carter at a table near the pool with one of my best friends Mary Grace. The late afternoon sun simmered on our skin. I lifted up my jar of iced green tea and caught the sunlight in it. This was recapturing a memory for us—last semester, we’d visited her home in Birmingham, AL and drank iced tea in mason jars while watching her little sister’s soccer game. We’d caught the sun in the jars by holding them up to the sky. I said to her: “It’s sun-honey!”

     The idea of sun-honey stayed with me ever since that moment, growing in my imagination as I started to draw pictures of it and write a short, rhymed story about a woman who traveled to and explored the hidden valleys and mysteries of the sun, then gathered and sold sun-honey from her journeys. The story itself never went anywhere. But that particular word-pair still holds a lot of weight to me.

      The “lively dance of sun” brings instantly to my mind the writhing, flickering and temporary nature of the sun light when I hold up the jar to catch it. In my rough draft of this poem, I didn’t write lines 5 to 8 until the end, but then moved them. The word “cloudy” speaks of a separation between us and the sun, and more specifically between me and Mary Grace. She is on the nursing track at Covenant and is transferring to a different school next semester. There is a cloud—but it is “far / away.” I used enjambment here to show the distance between the cloud and “this peaceful moment.” As we savor our time and tea together, we “soak up light” with our skin, which foreshadows the next thought of the poem.

  

   The next lines, 9 to 15, surprised me. I started to write about knees as hills, and suddenly the image of “roads of salmon” came to mind. I also remembered in the same instant that salmon migrate upstream and jump up waterfalls!

   

  “Mary Grace, do you know what season salmon migrate upstream?”

     In a moment I was on her laptop, looking at pictures of salmon and finding out all kinds of fascinating things! I found the word “diadromous” which describes the physical change that occurs as a salmon travels from salt water to fresh and vice versa. I felt so struck by the change that is so deep it affects every part of a fish, even throughout its physical body. It didn’t take long to also find that there is no season of migration—salmon are migrating at every time of year, making long voyages upstream and even jumping up waterfalls in order to go to their homes and make new life through their eggs. Many salmon die on this journey.

    I am not very sentimental about animal life and fish (maybe I should care more!), so the death of fish doesn’t particularly move me. But the idea of salmon, their journeys throughout the entire year, and their physical changes all in the face of death in order to make new life resonated deeply with me. The Lord has been teaching me about what it means to be a new creation, and how death of our old selves happens before new life can come. So spiritually, I love the thought of going from “salt to fresh”, from water that cleans and heals wounds to water that refreshes and fills your thirst. Salmon jump “without knees, joints, or legs”—a feat that seems impossible, yet it happens. I see it as a work of the Holy Spirit that gives us the boost that we need to jump up waterfalls.

     At the same time, I see these journeys as relating to general kinds of change in life, including what can feel like the loss of a friendship. The legs of salmon flesh “signal changes, pink to gold”, paralleling the change that happens in our skin as we tan in the sun. This thought connects me down through the end of the poem. Though “we seem from bloody journeys [of salmon] far” as we sit in the sun and drink iced tea and enjoy the pleasure of a friend’s companionship, “our hearts do bitterly feel changes”. But these changes are part of our journey, and are as beautiful as “glitter” dripping from the sun to our legs. Before our legs can be glittery, “A sizzling, roasting pain of fire takes place”—the transition between pink and gold: the redness of a sunburn. However, once the burn has faded, a glittery golden encapsulates our skin. This glitter symbolizes the new, vibrant life after the burn, after the painful journey, after the “bitterly [felt] changes.” Our hearts make journeys similar to the one made by our skin in the sunlight, or to salmon trudging bravely upriver. “Perhaps one day our hearts will glitter too.” This ending line expresses the hope I have in the midst of stormy and painful changes that God is using these changes to bring new life into my light and transform my heart into glittering gold, touched by the sun.

     Like I said before, this poem surprised me more than once as it took shape. I didn’t expect to think about salmon, and I didn’t expect to think about the sun changing my skin or about my heart glittering. The word “glitter” also holds weight for me—another precious friend of mine, Emily, has told me that God teaches her through glitter. He teaches her to be fierce, unafraid, and unashamed the way that glitter is. It is amazing how one poem can have so much depth and layers of meaning.

     I read a book last year called “Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art” by Madeleine L’Engle that has affected me deeply. I remember in one chapter, her talking about what it means to serve a work. At first, I didn’t really understand what she meant—and I have to say that I still don’t completely understand. But she talked about how the Lord lays different works or ideas on our hearts, and in that laying He calls us to be faithful to give life to the work. I had never connected the idea of faithfulness with the idea of creation, but it is part of cultivating: not just in the cultural mandate sense, but also in the parable of the talents sense. God gives us gifts, and we aren’t supposed to bury them, but instead use them. It is hard to understand and analyze what kind of effect poetry has on the world around us or why it’s important to write it. But I would say that when God lays poems on our hearts, it is a responsibility we have to Him to explore them and bring them to life. 

Details

I was reflecting today on my past year in my journal. I wrote down each month and a little summary  beside of what has happened. I was
                                    blown away.
Almost every month, something challenging happened. Almost every month, something very rich happened. For example... in March, I went to Spain on a vision trip over Spring break. We spent time visiting with the missionaries and learning about Spain. I barely slept while I was on that trip, and I remember feeling very weighted by the hopelessness I felt in the place... Less than 1/2 a percent of Spain professes Christianity. I also remember being very aware of my own sinfulness. I came back from the trip and got sick and depressed for the next two weeks, and I really missed being in Spain. I am so grateful that God allowed me to go on that trip, and become even more aware of the way that He is at work around the world. I think that trip is still being processed and I don't know how God will use it in my life. 

Lunch at Chery Flores and Alba Miller's flat (a couple of the missionaries)

The view from their window

     Another obvious example of richness/hardness--> my trip to Hong Kong this summer to teach English. Most of life's richness can be found in the details, and the details are much more obvious when you travel to a new country. (I LOVE TO TRAVEL!) You can't help but notice the difference from the details you are used to... making not only new details but also familiar ones so...delightful! I miss all of the details from there! Eating sushi and dim sum with chopsticks, Chinese and UVA-protected umbrellas, the way that Dannie's (one of my students) little grinchy laugh sounded whenever she was happy (so precious!). 

     I wasn't really expecting hardness, even though I suppose I always should by now! I asked for growth, and growth happens after a seed has split apart and died. Going to Hong Kong was a slap in the face for me, because God reminded me that my going to Hong Kong was not about going on an adventure in my story... I have always been far too interested in my own story. It's not about my story, but about His! I need to trust Him, and simply be honored and astounded that He even let's me be a part of His. Teaching was such a hard thing for me! I am not naturally good at teaching! I was as happy or happier than the kids when class time was over! And they had just received summer freedom only to have their parents send them to English camp from 9:00 AM-4:00 PM every day for 3 weeks. I would wake up in dread. I remember praying in the bathroom, telling God that He had to give me joy, patience, love that I didn't have, because I felt completely empty. And He really would...as soon as I was in the classroom and began to teach, I almost enjoyed myself (almost). Does it really matter that I hated to teach? I know that teaching isn't my gifting and that I won't pursue it as a life-long career. But how else would I have had the chance to get to know those kids? More than anything, I loved those precious little faces and the friendships that came from all the hours we had in class. Every day, I couldn't wait for lunch, because each day different groups of students wanted to go out to lunch with us, their teachers. 

Little Details again-- SOY MILK IN HK!!! They have a different one for every moment... ;)

My Team, who I spent 5 weeks with :D This is a familiar setting as we had many team meetings and planned lessons at Pacific Coffee

Details again- Japanese beef curry. 

This was one of my favorite days...

Teary goodbyes...

Their faces are beautiful, I love them!

I love the details. 

Right now, I am watching my three-year-old niece dance in her fancy little dress. She has been so excited to go to Rachel Rhodes' wedding because my brother-in-law told her he would dance with her there tonight. She can't wait to dance with her daddy...

     "I'm ready to dance!" She announced when she entered the room and began to leap and twirl about the room. 

     Death and Joy... That's what I asked God to teach me about this next year. I'm a little nervous, but excited at the same time. Deaths of seeds allow for Growth! Happy New Year to all of you, and pray that it would be a growth-filled, joyous year for you as well.

Richness

I am actually excited about blogging! Communication has definitely been a struggle this past semester. I have the feeling that blogging is going to a be a little addicting... :)

Here I am, back at Covenant after an incredible fall break that included staying at Natalie and Josh's house 2 nights as well as going to GUATEMALA for 5 days!!! I can't express the incredible richness and sweetness of that time-- It was so good and necessary for my soul. Just to soak in my family, see new beautiful sights like Antigua and the Presidential Palace, have cozy conversations in Kara's homey apartment... I loved it.

It was hard to drive back to school and have an overwhelming load of homework dumped on my head as well as class to go that same day. I told Mom on the phone that I was tired of it already and she told me to pray for a miracle. I feel a miracle in my heart as God once again gives me strength and motivation that I don't have. I am so grateful for this Sunday afternoon in front of me to rest and reflect... I am about to go for a hike with Mary Grace in the brilliant sunshine and sit and read and write for a while.

Let me explain the title of this blog! I feel like "Life in Process" is appropriate  because I am always processing something huge in my head and heart as well as externally (aren't we all?), and now I can let you all be a part of it :).

Right now I am processing what it means

to REST in God

to find LIFE in Him

to walk INTIMATELY with Him

I'm also processing what it means to come back to this country again. I find myself thinking negatively about the States -- still -- after it seems like I should have already adjusted back and consider this my country now. I feel life in learning and discovering new things, and I have so much of the world that I want to have the chance to explore! Natalie reminded me the other night that we can never know when one season of life will be over, so all the more reason to dig in and enjoy every stage. Life is too rich!

Kara and her cooking is so delightfully inspiring...

Packing into the car for our trip to Antigua!

I love my Daddy <3

Con los cuñados ;)

One of my favorites... I like to think that the windows of my soul are also stained glass.