confessions of a prospective graduate student

Every new step in my graduate school application journey is accompanied by a surge of fear, insecurity, and anxiety. It is such a struggle to maintain perspective and see myself clearly. Most days, I spend more time trying to cut down the tangled roots of insecurity, fear, pride, narcissism, and jealousy than actually working on my writing sample, research, and personal statements. I just wish I could feel more grounded and confident in my skills, giftings and abilities while being content to accept my limitations. But I’m a perfectionist. I want to be affirmed, and I want to be recognized. As much as I hate to admit it, I care what others think.

I’m hesitant to tell others about graduate school, and I regularly downplay my desires and ambitions. I just don’t want to seem like I am shooting too high: my dreams and desires are where I feel most vulnerable. On the other hand, learning and academia is such an important part of my sense of vocation that I feel inauthentic not sharing it with others. My greatest fear in putting myself out there through sharing, writing, and applying is that I will inaccurately judge my abilities and fall flat on my face and everyone (but me) will have seen it from miles away. After all, who am I to think that I could get an advanced degree and spend my life researching, reading, writing, and teaching?

I wish that I could rid myself of these hypercritical, overly inflated, insecurities that end up being directed towards myself or others. This is partly why I have held off on applying for so long. I am pretty sure I haven’t killed off my mean streak of perfectionism, only sent it into hiding. Going back to school might be the equivalent of an alcoholic sitting in a bar, so my strategy has been to just stay away. There is so much pain associated with my personal journey of coming to terms with my perfectionism and also my intimate knowledge of my own vulnerabilities. In the back of my mind, I can't help but worry that my old demons will return, and I will be facing another season of exhaustion, trauma, and depression.

But at the same time, I feel a growing desire to confront this fear head on, to claim my desires, and enter the unknown. I know I’m probably not ever going to get rid of my perfectionism, but I hope – and pray – that I have gained enough confidence and grounding to not only survive but thrive in graduate school, while maintaining clarity, integrity, and balance.

So, I'm engaged in a struggle right now between doubt and belief, fear and confidence, insecurity and faith. And I know from watching my husband in graduate school that it doesn't really go away. I wonder if this simply part of the vocational journey?

creative simplicity

langa township
Originally uploaded by wenchee

Langa Art Center, South Africa

One of the most awe inspiring aspects of this year has been God’s ongoing provision for us financially. Yet, with gas and food prices rising, I am starting to feel the definite pinch on our budget. It’s incredibly easy to shift into my default position of fear and anxiety and to respond with an increased desire for control. I’m constantly working to let go, relax, stop worrying about what I’m going to eat and wear, and instead let myself trust in God’s goodness and provision.

Living on a tight budget has taught me a lot and made me more conscious of the poor and vulnerable. When I start to feel powerless in light of limited funds and despite my well paying job (ok, so it’s not great, but it’s sufficiently more than minimum wage), I think about the sheer burden of poverty held by so many. Poverty is a prison. It impacts every choice and every decision. It controls movement, nutrition, health, well-being. For many, there just seems to be no escape.

In light of all this, I have been thinking about the difference between poverty and simplicity. On the surface, simplicity seems to be a lifestyle based on empowerment, while poverty seems to strip power. So, recently I have wondered, what’s the relationship between living simply and poverty? How can living simply empower the impoverished? How I can shift my perspective from one of fear, anxiety, and captivity to a life lived in trust, joy and contentment. How can I tap into my limited resources and experience the gracious space and freedom of the Spirit?

It’s so tricky. It’s difficult to explain the difference between living in a spirit of simplicity and feeling trapped by limited resources, but I can certainly feel it. Possibility replaces paralysis. Agency replaces entrapment. When I am living in simplicity and trust, a weight is lifted. I am liberated to be present and feel grateful. There is freedom to use my resources and freedom to accept my material realities/limitations without feeling burdened by them. I am empowered to create instead of consume. So, I get creative about cooking with limited ingredients. I get creative about how to serve people and gift them. I go outside and see color and beauty in creation --- a gift that is open to both rich and poor alike, though the rich often try to make it a commodity.

I believe that the Spirit of God rests with the poor and vulnerable. Anyone who has worked with the poor knows that God gifts the poor with incredible creativity and eyes to see what the privileged often miss. The Spirit’s empowerment and gifts of joy, beauty and creativity liberate the poor from the immediate shackles of daily existence. I love this subversion, and I long to capture more of this power in my life. A life of creative simplicity and trust seems to be the only effective way for me resist the imperialism of wealth, consumerism and privilege. The poor teach me that I need not be wealthy to experience God’s gracious beauty and bounty, and I do the poor a disservice when I do not appreciate and validate the good news of God’s Spirit upon them. They have so much to teach and offer.


I’m rereading Richard Foster’s Freedom of Simplicity. It is an amazing book. I can’t believe he wrote it in the 1970s! It is so relevant to our present time, although I guess more and more this decade is resembling the 1970s. Foster is quick to caution against any prescribed way of living simply. To be clear, I don’t think we should ever glamorize or elevate poverty itself nor should we reject the value of the material goods. I – like so many – desire to increase my wealth, status, and improve my well being. I don’t believe this desire is completely bad. I have hopes and dreams that require mobility and unfortunately money. Living simply, is a complex, varied, and lifelong journey and as Foster says “repudiates easy, dogmatic answers to tough intricate problems.” I wish it could be as easy as give all of your money away! I watched Into the Wild a few weeks ago, and I think this movie/story shows the danger, naivety, and tragedy of such simplistic decisiveness.

So, I’m still wrestling. But in the meantime, I’m seeking to create beauty in the desert, and I am amazed at what I’m discovering as I wait for and trust in God’s provision.

This post is dedicated to my friends:
I’m amazed and inspired by all of you who are artists – official or unofficial. You have used your gifts to give dignity to the poor by letting their lives speak and capturing their beauty and worth, whether in Tanzania, Afghanistan, Haiti, Guatemala, the streets of Seattle, Costa Rica, Kenya, or South Africa. Your commitment has taught me so much and encourages me to seek redemption right here in Texas. Thank you.

weapons of war

I am in shock right now. The Mail and Gaurdian reported yesterday that South Africa has been supplying Zimbabwe with weapons of war, including helicopters, revolvers and cartridges -- despite the mounting human rights atrocities in that country.

"Information at the Mail & Guardian’s disposal points to a cosy relationship between the defence forces of both countries, as well as government-to-government arms transfers. This appears to conflict with President Thabo Mbeki’s mediation role between the ruling Zanu-PF and the opposition MDC, which demands neutrality. "Read the full story here.

I have become increasingly frustrated and anguished with Mbeki in the last few months. If anyone had the opportunity to exert meaningful pressure on Mugabe, it was him. Instead, he remained silent. Now, it appears he was complicit in this brutal regime's terror tactics.

Shame.

I cannot understand it.

After all that South Africans endured to achieve democracy, this is what emerges.

Today, the words of a South African poet Sandile Dikeni hang in the air:

Nowadays
they don't hang you by the neck
till you die
They dangle you by the feet
till the blood comes to your brain.

zimbabwe, we stand with you

Today, Zimbabwe votes. In extraordinary acts of creative resistance, red fliers have fallen from the sky urging Zimbabweans to boycott the vote. Go to This is Zimbabwe to see the full story as it unfolds today and keep Zimbabwe in your prayers. I am amazed at the courage, patience, and endurance of the Zimbabwean people.

Also, the pictures are amazing. I can't help but laugh and smile~

Red Alert! Red Alert! Red Alert!
June 26th, 2008
Reddy for freedom, and reddy for peace!
Late this afternoon, residents of Bulawayo’s inner city population were treated to a glorious red show. Those who start their days very early - vendors, people walking long distances to work, those who get up early to have more time to find food - caught a glimpse of what was to come later in the day when red alert flyers carpeted some areas of the city.

This afternoon, thousands of ‘red alert flyers’ rained down on the inner city streets; people were speculating that they had been thrown from a plane. One person was overheard to say that maybe it was God himself, throwing them down as a reminder to Robert Mugabe that he still existed in Zimbabwe and was ready stand by the downtrodden and the oppressed and to remove him from power and deliver as all to freedom and peace.

A small group of singing supporters of the MDC also marched through the city while the flyers clouded the horizon.As soon as they hit the ground the flyer were scooped up by excited pedestrians. People were seen in supermarkets afterwards discretely showing each other the flyers and laughing. This show of defiance after a time of terror has delighted those who were lucky enough to see them.

However, nobody is complacent in Zimbabwe. Everyone has had been touched by the regime’s terror tactics and no one believes that they regime will back down without a fight. While they use terror and fear and violent weapons, democratic forces are determined to spread words, and hope and bright colours in a dark period.

This City of Kings, renowned for its resistance to the Zanu PF regime despite gross terror tactics during the 1980s, wore its pink fingers like a badge of pride on the 29th March 2008 when we voted for change and brighter future. That resilience hasn’t diminished. One Bulawayo gentleman who was beaten and stabbed recently has said he has recovered enough to get ready to boycott.

We stand by everyone in our nation and especially those in the terrible areas where we know the regime will come out in their numbers and attempt to force citizens to vote for the geriatric dictator through a mixture of threat, intimidation, lies and violent force.
We pray for all of you.

heart home

How can I live better? I have been thinking about this a lot the last few weeks as I have found myself unsatisfied with several areas of my life. Boredom is a bitch. It makes me seek to fill my time and fill myself with all sorts of irrelevant things. I watch way too much TV. I spend way too much time surfing the internet. I spend way too much time obsessing about nutrition, my body, wrinkles, fashion, cooking etc. I never really used to think about these things very much. Now, I think about them frequently, mostly because I am bored but also because of what I see reflected in the culture around me.

It’s a lot easier for me now to understand the role consumerism plays in American life. While we are very busy, this business often translates to emptiness and lack of rootedness. In turn, this translates to quick fix solutions and cravings for moments of pleasure to help relieve the monotony of our days. This translates into spending money. They cycle repeats itself.

In Texas, most people go out for the majority of their meals. (I don’t think this is particular to Texas. This was a regular part of my life in Seattle.) Obesity is rampant. Yet, I am surrounded by beautiful fit college girls every day. This has made me self conscious about where I fit on the spectrum. I don’t want to be the one showing up to church with a 64 ounce cup of soda, nor do I want to constantly be working out and consumed by my appearance.

I find myself oscillating between trying to resist the culture and trying to adapt to it. Either way, both feel empty and consuming. Right now, it feels like I have no space within me or outside of me that is free from consuming forces. I don’t like this, and yet I feel resigned to it unsure of how to be free and live better.

The tasks of daily life are consuming. I’m tired of thinking about money. I’m tired of thinking about cooking and shopping. I’m tired of thinking about gas. Yes, I need to think about these things, but I probably over think them because I’m not sure how else to fill the space.

I still haven’t really found a place where I can just be. I have started walking to work in the mornings, and this has helped a lot. I’m not looking to put more stuff on my calendar. I’m not looking to fill my time. Instead, I’m longing for something I haven’t quite found yet.

Perhaps, in the words of Eugene Cho, it’s my “heart home.” As I have written before, I believe we can never get back to home. Our experience in this world is one of exile and wandering towards shalom. Any attempt to return to home is misguided to me, and yet the power and longing for one's “heart home” is very real.

My friends used to make fun of me because I would say: “I just want to be.” My heart home, I think, is a space where everything feels in balance, and I feel content with simply being myself in the world. I’ve experienced this sense in different places of the world so I know it’s not tied to a particular location, though at the same time it can’t be divorced from particularity. My heart home is always tied to specific sounds, colors, tastes, smells, experiences. I know enough about myself to know that my “heart home” is somewhere between the mountains, the ocean, urban life, and absolute quiet. Changing seasons. Snow and the hot sun. Burnt orange and red leaves. A room full of light. Bold and bright colors. People.

Every now and then, it will hit me. And I will get tears in my eyes. The wind in Texas will smell like South African wind. The coastline in Cape Town will remind me of Scotland. The mountains in New Mexico will bring me peace. And so on. I’m always amazed by the familiarities and similarities of different places in the world. While the connection may not be apparent, the feeling or response it elicits in me is remarkably similar and always a gift.

But right now, I feel far away from all this. I’m not sure if it’s physical, spiritual, mental, emotional or simply geographical. And I’m tired of trying to figure it out and adjust. I just know that I’m dissatisfied and think that there must be a way to live better, to cultivate some sense of “heart home” right here in Texas. Or maybe it is not up to me to cultivate, but rather to receive as a gift. Or maybe I just have to accept that this isn't a place for me to really call home. Either way, I desperately need spaces where I can be if I am to resist and hopefully respond to the consumerism and disconnection I am struggling with.


Small things are enough sometimes: a cup of tea, art, a gentle breeze, wine with friends, and shadows of the late afternoon sun.

mapping terror in zimbabwe

Each icon represents a single case of violence; the pin colours identify the perpetrator groups involved in the incident. Over 1,000 cases of political violence and intimidation, carried out after the March 29th elections, are represented on this map.


This full interactive map detailing election violence can be found at Sokwanele.