Traveling connects your mind with your soul. Without a culture or people to feel accountable to, without a language to lean on, you are left with…you. You begin to discover the innate commonality between all people. There is an identity to be had separate from the molding of society, organized religion, politics, even the people you love. Traveling is not a thorough enough verb for what I am talking about. Traveling is the simple task of stepping on foreign soil. I am talking about inhaling life one city, one person at a time. Going to where the people are and breathing it in as if it were oxygen. This requires an effort to be a part of a life you don’t understand yet. I guarantee you, most people in France could care less about the Eiffel Tower. It’s like going to the White House to understand America. We seek after colorful pamphlets and subject ourselves to long bus tours. We want to feel adventurous, educated, entitled, and experienced. But we loose the only thing worth gaining from our travels, and that is perspective. When you see the world through the eyes of a high schooler, or an old uuiger man in the countryside of China, you find a part of your humanity you didn’t know you had. A kind of life that fills you to the brim with questions and compassion for the people you’ve met and the ones you might never hear of. The most valuable moments of my life are moments where God shows me a peek of himself in His creation, in a person, in a new language, in a new culture. Little snapshots of God’s touch on humanity. Perspective. Recognizing people around the globe are all looking for the same answers. Seeking grace, peace, love, and acceptance. Go somewhere. Gain some perspective
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When I was young someone warned me, “Lily, be careful what you wish for.” This sentiment is not rare. I think it might be in a couple pop songs. There are times in my life…pretty much like everyday, that I have a plan for what I want. A plan that I like and a plan that I am motivated to make happen. I pray for God to help make my plans work and to give me what I think is best for myself. I am so glad that God is not a genie who grants me my wishes. If God answered every prayer with a “yes”, this would be one screwball of a world. In my life I have prayed and come to realize that talking to God is not about getting a result. Talking to God is about trust, comfort, and building a relationship. He is willing to hear everything that I want and He is a great listener. But He does not always say yes. When I was 10 I lived in Framingham, MA. Framingham was a colorful town. We lived down the street from the train station, shared the block with a men’s shelter, and our neighbors built some bombs in their basement one time. Ironically that house and our life there was the peak of my childhood. I loved every second. Behind our Framingham house we had a row of poisonberry trees. The birds loved to nest in them and once a year the same family of blue jays would have their babies in our yard. I loved those baby birds. They were so cute and I wanted to be like the kids in books and movies who would find hurt baby birds and nurse them. My problem was that none of the baby birds we had were hurt. Our baby birds were perfectly happy chirping away in their nest. I wanted to hold just one sooooo bad. I asked my mom and she said absolutely not. If the baby birds smell different, the mom won’t feed them and they’ll die. But I was determined to nurse myself a baby bird. I went out one afternoon on a mission. After I checked to make sure my mom couldn’t see, I casually placed myself against the tree. To this day I am ashamed of what I am about to confess. I, Lily Fairman, bumped against that tree with all my ten year old might. Once wasn’t enough though. At this point the birds were not very happy. I slammed the trunk again. Successful this time, i was staring at a baby bird on the ground. In that moment I realized that I had done a horrible thing. I ran to get help from the house. My fairy-tale had turned into a bad dream. My dad swooped in to the rescue with a paper-towel and carefully placed the uninjured, yet traumatized, bird back into its nest. Perhaps God does not always say “yes” because I don’t have the wisdom to realize how my life should go. He knows what I have yet to learn. I will always remember looking at the poor bird on the ground and realizing what I wanted was in reality a nightmare. Yes, there are those days that I find myself looking at a metaphorical baby bird on the ground of my life…wishing God had stopped me. But praise God for the days He saves me from myself. I love Valentines Day, To the cynic, Valentines day is one of two things: A day of hypocrisy where you excessively love those you should be loving already in some attempt to prove yourself, or a day of single angst, half-price chocolate, and desperate dates. The way I see it, Valentines day is neither of these. We all get busy with life and before we know it, we are struggling to excessively love the people we care most about. Along the way I forget to intentionally, specifically, and passionately inform the people I love how much of my heart is overwhelmed by their place in my life. Maybe Valentines Day doesn’t mean a romantic evening with someone you care about, Maybe you need to pick up the phone and take your mom out to lunch. Maybe you need to grab some flowers and surprise a friend with dinner and a red box. Maybe you need to babysit for that couple at your church who just need a night to remember what it’s like to be alone. Whoever you are, Why not? |
AuthorMy name is Lily. Archives
October 2016
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