When Summer Has to End...

It’s MUCH harder to keep up with blogging when school is in session, but I at least want to finish writing about my summer experiences.  This is the last post about my internship at the house of prayer, but stay tuned over the next couple months for posts about Wyldlife camp and my engagement!!

I love summer.  At least for right now where summer still means vacation from classes and opportunities to do something fun, adventurous, and life changing.  For me, summer flies by every single year, and the toughest part is always when it ends.  Because, more often than not, the end of summer means that it’s time to say goodbye.  To new friends and new places and new experiences that I may never get to repeat.

Leaving IHOP:EG in early August was really sad.  Chris and I had found a home there among a community that truly felt like brothers and sisters in Christ, but it was just for a short season.  Yet although it went quickly, it definitely left its mark on my life.  Suddenly, the Bible started making sense and actually capturing my attention.  And suddenly, I felt that desire and fire and zeal stirring up after many months of dormancy. 

During our last week, I was finally able to see the shift that had occurred in my heart.  I was no longer frustrated in my relationship with God but was instead thankful for His mercy.  And I was excited to pray.  I felt connected to the Holy Spirit once again and was able to see beyond my own plan for myself.  After ignoring the blind man in Puerto Rico (see previous post), I was determined to obey the Lord when led to pray for someone.  I felt this conviction particularly strongly as our time at EG was wrapping up. 

First, it was in one of the Friday night services.  I saw a fellow staff member who looked distressed and knew I should go ask to pray for her.  Embarrassed that I didn’t know what to pray about, I was less than eager to approach her.  But the tugging on my heart persisted, and I finally obeyed, all the while reminding myself that if I was too scared to pray for another Christian in a House of PRAYER, I was never going to be able to pray for (or witness to) a stranger or unbeliever.  So I submitted and prayed for the woman, who expressed great gratitude.  Awesome.  But that wasn’t the end of the matter. 

During another service a few days later, I spotted a little girl standing in the back by herself.  Again, I knew that I needed to go up to her and at least ask if she was okay.  Completely unsure of what to say, I left my seat, approached the girl, and asked her if she knew Jesus.  She responded that she didn’t but that she wanted to.  And as I started praying and sharing with her, the girl seemed to come alive.  Although she’d seemed shy at first, she began to dance and cry out, “I love you, Jesus!”  I’m not sure what chains were broken that day, but it was clear that something at least had changed in her heart. Praise the Lord!

So I felt inspired and praying for people was awesome, but our last set in the Prayer Room was less than ideal.  Chris did great at leading worship, but my microphone was giving me trouble, and I felt unable to connect to the Lord.  Expecting our last set to be really amazing, I got very frustrated and struggled to focus on God.  In retrospect, it wasn’t that bad...just another opportunity to practice responding rightly to unmet expectations.  And anyway, the reality is that our prayer/worship sets weren’t even really about us at all.  They were all for God, so even when we felt like we were doing a bad job, the time wasn’t wasted.  God was still praised and lifted up, and He didn’t stop listening on certain days just because I didn’t sound as good.  What a relief!

Later that week, Chris and I decided to play on a Night Watch set so we’d have at least one experience of praying in the middle of the night.  We joined the worship team for the 2am-4am set, and it was an awesome time of praise and intercession.  Everyone present seemed more awake than most people who come to the Prayer Room during the day! There is definitely something special about crying out to God when most people are fast asleep! 

That Wednesday, we had our last staff meeting of the summer.  We felt so loved by the community and it was a privilege to share with them how much the summer had impacted our lives.  It was also exciting to hear another man share who had been sent from the House of Prayer into the mission field and was back to visit.  The brotherly love exhibited through his sharing really felt like a visit from Paul to the early church.  I was reminded of how important it is for missionaries to be supported by a loving community of believers. 

...But besides all the events of our last week, there was one other important factor.  You can’t leave a house of prayer without having LOTS of people pray you off.  Each time we said goodbye to a friend on staff, they offered to pray for us.  I love that!  What better gift could they send us off with than a sincere prayer? I was so touched to receive the prayers of these faithful ones who spend so much time at the feet of Jesus.

On out last night, Chris and I decided to make dinner for the staff.  After being teased all summer for our healthy eating habits, we wanted to demonstrate that constant fast food does NOT have to be part of the “missionary lifestyle.”  And plus, we really wanted to serve all the people who had welcomed us into their community and taught us so much.  However...we had never taken on a cooking task nearly so ambitious.  Dinner for 20+ people is no minor task!  We took one of our favorite recipes, multiplied it by 4, and bought a whole cart full of ingredients for ground chicken chili, salad, homemade guacamole, and black bean brownies.  Although the cooking was certainly a lot of work, it really wasn’t too bad except for the very intense moment where we realized that the chili wasn’t all going to fit in one pot.  But noticing it early on, it wasn’t the end of the world, and we were able to split the chili between two pots before anything overflowed or spilled.  Phew!

By the end of the night, neither of my two fears had become reality.  The food didn’t taste disgusting, and we had enough for everyone who came.  In fact, because we’d used Chris’ typical meal size as a serving size, we had PLENTY of food left over (I now know that one serving for Chris is probably about 3 normal-sized servings!).  Or maybe God just multiplied the food.  Also a possibility…

After dinner was our last Encounter God Service.  The pastor called me and Chris up front and asked the congregation to pray for us, which was amazing.  Many came forward and laid hands on us, and it was so powerful to hear a chorus of voices all lifting up our lives in prayer.  I know that God was listening, and I’m excited to see the fruit of all those blessings.  I cried as we drove home and couldn't help but recognize how crazy it is that the places I hate at first always seem to be the places I’m most reluctant to leave.  But maybe that was part of God’s plan all along.

Last night with Hans, our intern director

Chris stole my apron!!

feeding the gang...at least those that came on time, haha!

Hope That Does Not Disappoint

So one thing that I’ve learned about myself this year is that expectations greatly affect my emotions.  This manifests in several different ways.  First, if I have no expectations (or low ones), and something turns out to be really great, I get very excited.  However, if the opposite is true…if I have high expectations that are not met, I get very upset…I feel frustrated…I blame people….I cry…it’s bad.

This summer, God gave me lots of opportunities to practice responding in a godly fashion to unmet expectations.  The first time this happened was in New York City.  (Actually, it probably happened several times before that, but you can read about those stories in my previous blogs).  On one of our Thursdays off, Chris and I took the bus into the city in hopes of seeing a Broadway show.  Our plan was to purchase discounted student tickets for a performance that night by lining up right before the box office opened.  However, Les Miserables sold out of Rush tickets just before we got to the front of the line, and despite checking box offices for 5 or 6 different shows after that, we were unable to find tickets for a price that we were willing to pay.  Still hopeful, though, we spent the day at High Line Park and then returned to Broadway to sign up for ticket lotteries for Aladdin and Matilda.  Having been told that most participants  in the lottery the night before had won tickets, we thought our chances were pretty good.  But when about 60 other people joined the drawing for just 10 tickets, we realized that we might not be seeing a show after all.  And sure enough, about 12 hours after our first attempts at buying tickets, we resigned ourselves to a Broadway-free evening and took the bus back to New Jersey.  I tried so hard to be okay with it, to be thankful for the awesome time at the park and in the city and with Chris.  But I was so disappointed.  And even a little bit mad.  

Just a couple weeks later, I set my hopes equally high on something equally uncertain.  For some reason, I was completely convinced that if I went to the beach and brought my kite with me, I would have an amazing kite flying experience just like all my sweet childhood memories of flying kites with my dad on the beach.  However, there were multiple problems with this fantasy.  First, I didn’t really know how to fly the kite.  I’d gotten it for Christmas two years before but had never flown it.  Second, kite flying is very dependent on wind, which is not always present, even at the beach.  And third, kite strings are very easily tangled, especially when there is strong wind. 

All of these things I failed to consider when I imagined how awesome it would be to finally fly my brand new kite.  But the first time we tried to fly it, the wind was very strong, and I was so excited that I unwound the strings too fast and created a giant knot which Chris later had to spend hours untangling.  The second time, there was no wind, and even Chris' super fast backwards running couldn't keep the kite in the air for an expended period of time.  And the third time, we realized that we’d lost an important piece of the kite when disassembling it the previous time.  In a nutshell, we just couldn't get the kite in the air.

So of course, just like when our Broadway plans fell through, I got frustrated and upset and nearly missed out on enjoying the other amazing beach activities that we got to experience...like body boarding in icy water without freezing to death (thank you Jesus for wetsuits) and watching the sunrise from the lifeguard's chair.  

Thankfully, my time at IHOP:EG really changed my perspective and hopefully the way I'll react to scenarios like these in the future.  Because this is a spiritual matter as well.  Sometimes I have expectations for God.  And like anything else, these expectations are not always met.  For example, I used to think that, when I was faithful to pray and read my Bible, God was obligated to speak to me and make me feel close to Him.  However, this is really a false sense of entitlement.  Even if I lay down everything I have for Jesus, He owes me nothing.  What I actually deserve is death and separation from God, and anything beyond that is His mercy.  This summer, I began to see that, instead of accusing Jesus for being distant or ignoring my prayers, I should be grateful for His love and kindness.  And even if He never gives me anything in this earthly life, He is still God, and He is still good.  

Of course, I don't think this means that I should set my expectations super low and stop hoping for blessings.  I still want to experience fun things and feel close to God.  But every hope that I have has to be put into perspective.  Because my ultimate hope is not in this life, but in the age to come, and that hope will never disappoint (see Rom 5:5).  When I get to reign on a restored earth with Jesus FOREVER, I'm pretty sure I won't care that I missed out on a Broadway show or flying my kite.  So instead of putting my hope and expectations in this life, I'm learning to wait for Jesus.  He is our blessed hope ( Titus 2:13).     

High Line Park

Can you believe all this green in the middle of NYC?

Grand Central Station

Jamba Juice

Bradley Beach

sunset on our 17 month anniversary!

Trying to fly the kite: Take 16

body boarding in the freezingggg water

sunrise on the beach

A Roller Coaster Ride

In my girls’ small group at W&L, we always start off our meetings with highs and lows. I think that’s the best way to sum up my first two weeks at IHOP:EG.  I wish I could say that I’m unshaken by circumstances and that, no matter where I am, I am confident and at peace because of my identity in Jesus.  But unfortunately, I’m just not that mature…at least not yet. So this internship started out with a bit of a roller coaster ride.

Low #1:  Although I could eventually no longer attribute it to culture shock, I was still stressed and frustrated about our seemingly disorganized schedule and my loss of a plan for housing.  I would sit in the Prayer Room, get bored within 30 minutes, and accuse God for the next hour and a half with lines like, “Why did You bring me here for this whole summer?" and “What am I going to do with myself for the next two months? I don't even have a place to stay!”  (Yep, I was full of myself… thank the Lord for His grace and mercy.)

High #1: I’ve played the flute for 12 years.  A lot of time, effort, and my parents’ money has gone into lessons, band, auditions, recitals, concerts, etc.  But until just a year or two ago, I never really used my flute to praise the Lord.  I didn’t know how.  I could only play music written on a page, which just isn’t very useful in Spirit-led worship.  However, last year, Chris gave me some tips so that I can now play by ear.  Suddenly, this instrument that I love can be used to make music to Jesus!  This is relevant to my internship, because now, for the first time since starting college, I play my flute for several hours a week.  And I love it!  In the Prayer Room, I actually get to live out Psalm 150:4 (“Praise the Lord with harp and flute”).  What a privilege!

Low #2: The Prayer Room is freezing!  I’ve gotten used to it, but at first, this was a big struggle for me.  I would try to pray but be so mad about how cold I was that I couldn’t focus AT ALL!  I tried using a blanket, but naturally: Sitting on the floor + wrapped in a blanket + closing my eyes to pray = prayer???  Nope….sleeping!

High #2: The teachings that we listened to rapidly began to change my view on creation and heaven.  Talking to some of the staff at EG blew my mind, and I found myself telling everyone about how heaven is a REAL place, not an immaterial realm where we float around on clouds.  Like a child, I was easily excited by even the simplest things we learned.  For example, God stretched out the heavens after He created them (Isaiah 42:5).  I didn’t know that!  And there must be at least some animals in heaven, because Jesus will come down riding a white horse (Rev 19:11).  And there are at least 3 heavens (2 Cor 12:2), with God dwelling in the highest heaven (Deut 10:14, Job 22:12)!  The stuff we were learning was just so cool!

High #3:  One of Chris’ friends shared with us how she really believed we were in the right place.  She knew I was frustrated about housing and the disorganization, but she stressed the importance of learning to be sent.  When God tells us to go somewhere, our job is to obey, even before He actually provides the way.  Naturally, as humans, we want provision before we go, but that takes little faith.  Real faith is demonstrated when we follow God before we can see how He will come through.  The next day, I found a place to stay that was much closer to EG.  So she was right. God provides when we take the first steps towards what He asks of us.    

Low #3: Now that Chris and I were no longer staying with his parents, I couldn’t rely on Chris to drive me everywhere.  The first time I had to drive by myself on the Garden State Parkway, I cried the whole way home.  In retrospect, it wasn’t nearly as bad as I expected.  All I had to do was merge on, stay in my lane for 3 or 4 exits, exit, and make a few turns on local roads.  But that first night, it seemed terrifying.  SO MANY LANES!  And headlights...EVERYWHERE!

Low #4: It rained on our first day off.  So much for our plans to head down to the Jersey shore. L

High #4: It turned out okay because we went to the Liberty Science Center instead and got to watch a lady dissect a cow eye (gross!), see an IMAX about sharks, and lots of other fun stuff.

Low #5: On the way back, we got stuck in traffic for the first time.  Not fun.  At all.  I think traffic is a great way to become better acquainted with our sin nature.  So much anger and so little patience.  It's a very simple reminder of how much we need God's mercy.

High #5: We attended our first Encounter God Service and Sunday Expressions, both of which were unlike any church service I’ve been to in the United States.  It was amazing to see such freedom in worship.  Everyone praised God in their own way, and no one cared what anyone else was doing.  It’s a beautiful thing to see people dance for Jesus. 

High #6: I discovered that it IS possible to cook with no stove, oven, measuring cups, or Pampered chef utensils.  A slow cooker and a toaster oven is all you need!  The EG staff have a term for such things….MISSIONARY LIFESTYLE!

Low #6: Just when I was getting used to things, it was time for my 6:30am flight out of Newark.  But it's probably unfair to count that as a low...I was headed to PUERTO RICO!  More on that in my next blog...

Liberty Science Center

New Jersey: My First Taste of Culture Shock

It’s a little surprising, but in all my trips to Peru, Honduras, Argentina, the Dominican Republic, and Puerto Rico, I've never really experienced culture shock.  Yet somehow, during my first week in New Jersey, I showcased almost every single one of Google’s top culture shock symptoms: homesickness, feelings of helplessness, disorientation, sadness, increased irritability, and excessive critical reactions to surroundings.  Looking back, I can’t even explain why.  There are a lot of things about New Jersey that are different (traffic, more people, more buildings, traffic, complicated roads, traffic…), but there are also lots of things that are just like West Virginia (trees, rolling hills closely resembling what us West Virginians like to call "mountains", bunnies, people who speak English, etc.).  For some reason, though, being in New Jersey really stressed me out at first.  Staying with Chris’ family, I was a bit less independent than at school, and I was very anxious about the fact that my initial plan for housing had fallen through and I might have to stay in Ridgewood and commute 40 minutes every day (plus traffic) for our internship.  Plus, I was unaccustomed to life in the Hu household, where they eat Chinese food, use the dishwasher as a drying rack, and walk around the house barefoot (which always results in a scolding at my house).  Of course, none of these are bad things, but when thrown in with feelings of homesickness, helplessness, disorientation, sadness, increased irritability, and excessive criticism, they felt overwhelming and kept me from seeing all the really amazing things about staying at Chris' house, such as the overflowing generosity and hospitality that I was receiving from both of his parents whom I'd only met a handful of times.  Most of all, though, I was flustered by the fact that our internship turned out to be very flexible and could not be carefully penciled into my color-coordinated planner as I always prefer things to be.  Unfortunately, it took me a while to get my eyes off myself and thank the Lord for bringing me to a place where I could learn and grow in so many ways. 

On my first night in New Jersey, one of Chris’ friends treated us to dinner.  I was surprised to see someone I’d never met give so generously and share so openly about his life and faith.  Through this occasion and many others, I've been encouraged by how easy it can be to connect with brothers and sisters in Christ just because we are all seeking the same thing.  That evening was especially interesting because a random stranger came up to us in Starbucks after hearing us pray and performed a magic trick sermon using a quarter.  His little show explained how the devil can distract us and steal away what God offers, a great reminder that God had something special in store for the summer that I would likely miss if I continued freaking out about the little details. 

The following day, I visited the church where Chris grew up.  It’s a Chinese church, so for the first time ever (at least in the US), I found myself in the clear racial minority.  There was only one other white guy in the church, and because he stood out like a sore thumb, I knew I must also be as easy to spot as a gringa in Huancayo, Peru.  Since I was so clearly a visitor, the man doing announcements had me stand up to be welcomed by the church.  Ironically, he misheard my name and introduced me to the church as Chris’ girlfriend, “Jersey.”  But that was practically drowned out by the crowd's "Awww" as the two of us sat down.  I'm pretty sure my cheeks matched my bright pink dress for a second there.  

On Monday, Chris and I finally got to go to the International House of Prayer: Eastern Gate (which I will often refer to as “EG”) where we would be interning for the next 2 months.  Still suffering from some culture shock symptoms, I was uncharacteristically irritated about the fact that the person in charge of our internship was not there on our first day.  This irritation rapidly transitioned to panic as we were informed that our time at EG would kick off with an on-the-spot audition.  Shaking like a leaf, I played my flute and sang a few lines of “Set a Fire” so that Chris and I could lead the 2pm set that very day.  It was pretty scary, but as soon as that was over and we entered the Prayer Room, I realized that EG is no so different from our Prayer Room at school.  Yes, it’s open almost 24-7 and is a lot bigger than our space at W&L.  And yes, the Prayer Room has a full sound system and a stage.  But just like at school, we simply worshiped. There was no big audience or crowd of people joining us in prayer.  It was just me, Chris, Jesus, and one or two others.  And for those 2 hours, my culture shock symptoms subsided.  Because in the presence of God, there’s just no place for such things.