see what kind of love.

In my mind love is sometimes this ethereal intangible, an elusive emotional experience that will fill me with meaning and purpose. Pursuing love is like chasing after a mythical creature. All of my hope rests on it. If I find it, I will find life. But it’s like a wild unicorn wandering through the mountains. It probably doesn’t exist.

I don’t know exactly where this idea of mythical love came from, but it’s been pushed back into realistic perspective for me in the past two weeks. It all started on a Friday night journey out to my grandparents’ house in the Inland Empire. My kind roommate, Lau, offered to accompany on the journey. What should have been an hourlong commute turned (as many LA commutes do) into a two-and-a-half hour slog through Friday afternoon traffic. Halfway through our trip I asked her if we could listen to this episode of This American Life. Act I of the episode details the story of the Solomon family, who adopt a child from Romania. The family faces unthinkable obstacles to bonding, which I would relate here, but I really just think you should listen for yourself. By the end of the segment, both Lau and I were in tears, overwhelmed by the beauty of the outpouring of love displayed through these parents. Did you listen to the segment yet? The rest of this might not make sense if you don’t. It’s worth 27 minutes.

The segment ends with this commentary from the reporter, Alix Spiegel: “If you’re the kind of person who actually needs love, really needs love, chances are you’re not the kind of person who’s going to have the wherewithal to create it. Creating love is not for the soft and sentimental among us. Love is a tough business.”

Did you catch that? If you’re the kind of person that needs love…you probably can’t create it. I sat weeping in LA traffic, wiping snot from my nose and mascara smudges from under my eyes. How beautiful. How terribly sad. What a glorious revelation.

This dumbfounded me. I need love. I mean, I really need love. Therefore, according to Spiegel, I’m likely incapable of creating it. I can’t drum it up. I can’t wish it into existence. This is bad news if we stop here.

Thankfully, I don’t think the story ends with me (or you) needing love, incapable of creating it, waiting on our mythical unicorn to arrive (hint: it never will. It’s a myth, for crying out loud). Love has arrived.

It’s Christmas, and we sing a lot of songs about love arriving. In this season, it’s easy to dilute love into a warm fuzzy that glows like the lights of a Christmas tree (but then fades in the bleak January nights). Real love doesn’t fade. Real love has arrived. Two thousand-ish years ago, God proved his love for us. He knows we can’t create love for ourselves. He knows we are like those abandoned Romanian orphans who can’t even conceive of bonding with another being.

We are unlovely, but he came anyway. He sent Jesus, (veiled in flesh, the Godhead see!) who demonstrates his own love for us in this: while we were still far away from God, punching holes in the wall and throwing every defense we had, he laid down his life for us, so we could be near to him. Just like mama Heidi gave up her life to spend every waking minute with Daniel, so Jesus has come near to us and bonded to us, demonstrating love that we could never create on our own. He taught us how to love.

I am loved! What love! It’s real, and it’s tough. It’s not fuzzy or mythical. The reality  hit home whena link to this devotional ended up in my inbox a week after listening to the podcast episode. After mulling over the example of the Solomon family for a few days, I was suddenly awakened to the reality of love that came in Jesus. John, the apostle whom Jesus loved (who would know better than him?!) reminds us of this:

See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are. The reason why the world does not know us is that it did not know him. Beloved, we are God’s children now, and what we will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when he appears we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is. (1 John 3:1-2)

Merry Christmas. By his love you may be adopted, and brought near. You may be loved.

beauty in the small things

I've been experimenting more with my camera and I'm amazed at how a still image can say so much about a detail otherwise unnoticed. These are glimpses of my home. It is full of small beauties.

wine at a wedding

Yesterday I met up with my little bible study and we opened the Word to John 2:1-12: the wedding at Cana. I have to admit that my pride was fully puffed up as we sat on my carpet to read, discuss, and munch on carrot sticks. " I know all about this story. God's provision, wedding rituals, Jesus' first miracle. How many times have I read this?" my inner voice flooded my head. But then the grace of God appeared to me yet again, and the Spirit prompted me to ask for his new revelation as we read. So I did. I asked and I honestly did not expect anything in return, and that was a mistake.

Thanks to that simple request and the Lord's provision through our discussion I was struck by the beauty and simplicity of this, the first time when Jeus the savior "manifested his glory" (v.11). Have you ever thought before about how the witnesses to this pivotal moment were just the servants at the feast? I hadn't. Jesus, in all his glory, comes to display his awesome power and messianic signs to...the servants? Yes indeed. The bridegroom and the master of the banquet honestly seem like they have absolutely no idea where this good wine came from. And yet, the servants know. They brought the giant jars meant for washing and they were the ones to fill the, with water. They were a part of this momentous event even while those with societal power and influence quibbled over the fact that this wine was too good for so late in the feast. But the servants know where this excellent wine came from. They know alright.

Here is Jesus, King of Kings and Lord of Lords, who can do literally anything, and his very first sign that demonstrates that he is the messiah is an act that meets a social need in front of some servants. He later heals the blind and mute, drives out demons, calms raging storms and raises from the dead. But here we see him provide wine for a celebration. This humility, compassion, and attention to detail only make me fall in love with him more.

"This, the first of his signs, Jesus did at Cana in Galilee, and manifested his glory. And his disciples believed in  him." Do you believe in him today, disciple?

grad school admit / chicken photographer

There is something within me that wants to jot it down. That's why I'm here, on this blog. However, I'm still trying to figure out what "it" is that I want to jot. Is it daily inspiration? A record of my humorous encounters with high school students? Spiritual questions and thoughts about God? Homemade donut chronicles?

Well, probably a little of all of the above.

I'll start here though. Lately, my life has been running toward two goals: going to grad school, and helping my dear friend, Lauren, start her creative career as a musician and designer.

Now, the former goal has been a bit more defined for me. When it comes to grad school admittance I go to orientations, fill out letters of intent, make plans for financial aid, dream of housing options. There have been many that have gone before me, paving the way of post-baccalaureate studies for me so that I just show up and fill out the necessary forms. It may sound tedious or boring but there is actually something quite exhilarating about opening the door to the futre and reentering the world of academia (in case you were wondering I'll be attending a program to get my secondary English teaching credential in an urban setting + master's degree in education).

The latter of my goals (that is, to help launch Lau into her music career) is a bit more of a discovery process. What exactly does it take to be a manager/friend/publicist/novice bassist? That's what I'm learning, and it is so very much fun. If you haven't heard of Lauren, go check out her brand-spankin'-new website (look, I'm learning to publicize). My tasks include everything from learning how to enter business expenses in Quickbooks to learning bass lines for her shows so she can have a little more oomph on stage. It's a great gig. This last week, one of my assignments was to photograph the Sexton family chickens in order to make rewards for our dear Kickstarter backers. Let me tell you: it is one thing to learn to take a decent photograph, and it is quite another thing to take a decent photo of poultry.

Anyway, I know I'm starting to ramble so I should draw this post to a close before I completely lose focus. All I really want to convey to you, and really want to remind myself of is this: I am very thankful for this season. There is much goodness to be had in the different hats I wear and it is a gift to be both a graduate school admit and a chicken photographer.

on writing

I think best when I can write. At this moment in life I sit at a crossroads: waiting, praying, listening for direction. In the meanwhile I will write some things here to process my thoughts. 

This blog (truthfully perhaps the fifth I've started in my lifetime) is called "fiat lux," which is translated from Latin as "let there be light." I feel it is only right to entitle this blog as such, as my God spoke these words in the beginning and is speaking them now to my heart and to this world. He is the light to my path.

and God said, "Let there be light" and there was light.  {genesis 1:3}