Who hears Prayers for Oklahoma? I'm gonna go with, "God."

My response to Who Hears #PrayersForOklahoma?

True, prayer is often used as a well-meaning expression to show sympathy, care, and helplessness. However, for those who would argue that everyone should "actually do something", I think there are more than a few believers throughout history who could prove that prayer is the most powerful thing you can do.  Yes, "prayer" real prayer is much more than a well-wish comment-- it is authentic communication with God.  I'm fairly certain Christians such as Corrie Ten Boom, Martin Luther King, and Mother Teresa were most likely moved to do amazing things in the Lord's name for Jews hiding from Nazis, for Civil Rights, and for the diseased in India due to a believer's natural first step-- prayer.

I don't fully know why God allows terrible things to happen, except that it seems to go hand in hand with a world that is not perfect and can't be perfect when free will is given to people.

What I do know is this:

1.) There is a whole lot of evidence that we as human beings are not very wise, yet we all like to think we are wiser than God or any idea of Him.  Psalms 14:1 says "The fool has said in his heart, There is no God." There are people who know they are foolish, and search for wisdom from God, and there are people who look at people of faith, call them foolish, and without knowing, seem to believe they are gods. 

2.)  God is bigger than any tornado.

#PrayersforOklahoma. Truly.

10 signs that summer is not just nice for teachers, it's necessary...

This list especially relates to middle school educators:

1. You've dialed 9 to make an outgoing call... on your cell. (Parent phone calls from the classroom phone, much?)
2. You have to restrain the habit of telling pre-teens having fun at social gatherings or public places to "quiet down" or "CUT IT OUT."
3. Without consideration or hesitation you chuck a package of pencils, paper, and post-its in your grocery cart on every trip.
4. When you're distracted you start to shush people who are talking... anywhere.
5. You absent-mindedly dab on hand sanitizer each time you hear someone sneeze, cough, or clear their throat.
6. You feel naked without your lanyard of your keys and teacher ID hanging around your neck.
7. When that driver erroneously stops to let you go even though he doesn't have a stop sign, you feel inclined to take advantage of a "teaching moment" and show him the correct procedure with a (gentle) tap on the horn.
8. On a whim during 4th quarter you dish out the cash you never would have in September to buy the audiobook and movie based off your class novel because technology is the burnt out teacher's best friend.
9. Your whole "I don't bribe students, I reward them" motto turns into "I will give you a jolly rancher if you just stay in your flippin' seat"
10. You pass a teacher in the hallway your barely know and you both call out the number of class periods left in the school year as a cheerful greeting.


Countdown 'til summer: 4.5 weeks, 22 days, 154 class periods.

Life in a land flowing with milk and honey.
Filled to the brim,
I partake and then just take.
Greed so powerful, makes me quake.

I am foul.
Yet fresh and clean.
Nothing here always makes sense,
S'pose that's the beauty of innocence.

My God is more than alive
He is that which is life.
His breath escapes my lips,
And his life reverberates off my finger tips.

He is black. White.
Even grey.
He is my "conscious", my "awake".
Don't you see Him? Just look past the fake.

I see Him in you.
You.
Yes, you.
Somehow, he always makes us new.
(So much to Him is due!)
Yet those that see it are few.

Blinded by a land filled with milk and honey;
Maybe it's just too sunny.

Brandon's (New) China Update

I've loved getting Brandon's updates from China.  It's so strange to see China through his eyes after experiencing it.  Here is the email update he sent out today:

Dear Friends and Family,

It has been several weeks since I last sent an update, so I thought I would plug you into what I have been up to. I have already finished two of my classes, as they last only eight weeks. As the classes I teach are oral English classes, the final was entirely oral. I have two hours for the final to test 50 students on their oral English. Due to the obvious time constraints, their final exam (and by extension 70 percent of their course grade) consists of them answering one question in English. They are all very nervous to say the least.

I am still enjoying my Tuesday night “English Corners” and have created some good relationships with students I have met there. Recently I have been more proactive in socializing with students outside of this time. I have started inviting groups to dinner or individuals to coffee if they seem to enjoy more in-depth conversations. Last week we began a weekly get-together in my apartment building open to English speaking students where we practice English through conversations, games and English movies. The turnout was pretty good for a night where most students went home for a holiday. This get-together will hopefully provide many contacts so as to find those who like to have the most… interesting conversations in more intimate settings. Our apartments are very poorly situated for productive socializing so please “hope” that we can find an alternative place to converse.

We have had several interesting experiences these last few weeks. One Wednesday night three of us (two teachers from Harding and one from Pepperdine) were invited to evaluate the English of candidates for a school club called UN Assembly where they apparently discuss foreign politics and relations. They explained that they wanted us to evaluate their ability to converse in foreign relation matters. After the first few students answered our questions, they decided our questions were too difficult, and we needed to make them easier to understand. As our questions were already rather elementary, this eliminated any foreign relations questions. The next student decided to showcase her English abilities by a full a capella version of a Mariah Carey song. I was rather taken aback by the bravery of the student to sing unaccompanied to strangers for an entire three minutes. The students waiting outside of the room seemed to get the same idea, so the remainder of the session consisted of judging students’ English abilities based on their singing various pop songs to us. Chinese students are not shy.

Another experience dealt with a recent Sports Week at school. Sports Week is common at Chinese universities and seems to be a few days similar to a primary school’s field day. The different colleges on campus compete at all kinds of athletic competition and team sports. The first day of Sports Week includes an opening ceremony, where the different colleges march into the stadium and perform some sort of cheer for the crowds in the bleachers. The foreign language department thought it would be good to make all the foreign teachers dress in traditional Chinese outfits and perform some Tai Chi moves in front of hundreds of spectators. As such, we had to have a couple of practices to learn the moves including (perhaps not the proper names) the “make the watermelon,” “split the watermelon,” and “sitting on the toilet” maneuvers. The actual rendition was less than spectacular, but at least the administration was able to show off all the things they can make the foreigners do.

A few more oddities:

I noticed a student wearing glasses without lenses. He explained that it was purely for appearances. Upon closer inspection I have found that a large number of my other students are not optically impaired either.

Chinese people like to nap. At one o’clock in the afternoon you can find people napping in public places, taxis parked on the side of the road, and some shops even closed down until two.

Chinese like fireworks. A lot. Like even late at night...

“Hoping” that your work is going well.

Best wishes,

Brandon

Brandon's Update

My brother is in China doing God's work, and I couldn't be prouder.  I can't claim to have anything to do for his passion for outreach and travel, but I did give him a little push in the Asian direction.  Here is his first email update he sent out a few weeks ago...

 

To My Friends and Family,

This weekend marks one month since I landed in the Beijing airport. The month has mostly been one of settling in and finding a routine, but has certainly been as unexpected as one might anticipate moving to China should be (if it is possible to anticipate the unexpected).

The flights went very smoothly and I arrived in Beijing on the 25^th after leaving on the 23^rd. However, the plane was delayed 20 minutes or so. Just enough time to cause an already short stop in Beijing to be near impossible. And impossible it was for a dozen or so Americans who were catching the flight from Beijing to Wuhan. I had to wait 18 hours to catch the next vacant seat to Wuhan. While I slept very well on airport benches and my luggage, my spine spent the better part of the last month recovering from the experience.

I arrived at the Wuhan airport after a two hour long plane ride with all the amenities (including a meal at 3 in the afternoon) that put their US counterparts to shame. The university official in Wuhan treated me to my first real Chinese meal, KFC. I was then taken to my apartment which is on campus and only a ten minute walk from classes. The apartment is well furnished and spacious for a guy used to sleeping on a couch.

Over the next week the university organized little trips for the foreign teachers (numbered 28). They took us to a nice restaurant that was built on a lake. The restaurant had a glut of all the stereotypical Chinese decorations that would seem comically over the top if it were in the States. Afterwards they took us to the Hubei Provincial Museum where they showcase a 200 two-toned bells set from the Qing dynasty and had a show using replicas. At one point during the museum trip I was walking around with two blonde foreign teachers from my university. One Chinese man walked up to us and pointed at his camera. We thought for a split second he might want us to take a picture of him at the museum. You know, like in the States. Well it turned out he wanted to have pictures taken with the foreigners. This facilitated several more less courageous Chinese visitors to stand in an impromptu line to take pictures with the foreigners. Fortunately for me I have black hair and am not too interesting, so they let me slink off to the more static exhibits.

Teaching began on the week of the 3^rd. Courses are only eight weeks and I only have 14 courses throughout the semester. Coming in the teaching aspect was something I was very comfortable with, however teaching English in China is very different than secondary science. The Chinese collegiate education typically has the professor reading out of the text while the students may or may not pay attention. They then are expected to memorize and regurgitate that information on the final exam. As such, the students are completely unfamiliar and uncomfortable with speaking in class under any circumstances. As my only goal is to facilitate a greater fluency in speaking English, 50 blank staring students unwilling to speak in class has caused me to adjust my teaching style.

As I have only 14 hours of classes a week, I have quite a bit of free time. I’ve spent that time reading, studying and exploring my area of the city. Within walking distance there are three different malls, and countless shopping strips. I have been impressed with how modern my section of the city seems to be. One of the malls contains a KFC, McDonalds, Starbucks, Pizza Hut, Dairy Queen and an iMax theatre currently showing Batman and Bourne Legacy. However, some of these bear little resemblance to their US franchises. This last weekend I splurged on a meal by going to Pizza Hut with a fellow Harding graduate at my university. It was a little different than I remembered. Upon entering a hostess showed us to our booth with a chandelier. We were then given small cups of water. My friend sipped it and realized it was A: hot water and B: scented like perfume. We were unable to determine if it was for drinking or rinsing our fingers, so we abstained. They then gave us a menu of fine wine selections and finally the pizza menu. Sort of. The first three quarters of the menu was composed of various steaks, pastas and some French dishes. Alas, at the very end we found our stuffed crust pepperoni pizza.

While the malls usually have picture menus so you at least can get something you know will be edible, but most of the street shopping requires a good deal of Mandarin skills to get something without homicidal bones included. Probably the most important thing I have learned so far is how to show numbers using hand gestures. I cannot understate how crucial this has been to me in many situations. The hand gestures for 1-5 are as we might do in the States. However, 6-10 are way different. Six you use only the pinky and thumb in a ‘call me… maybe’ form. Seven is touching all of your finger tips like a hand puppet. Eight is using your thumb and index finger like you are pointing a gun. Nine is a fist with the index sticking out like a fishhook, and ten is crossing both index fingers like an ‘x. It is amazing how much one can communicate using these gestures, pointing and various Tim Allen-esque grunts.

By far the most heartening times have come at “English Corner.” Every Tuesday night each of the foreign English teachers must meet at the foreign language department to converse with any students wishing to practice their English. Generally I have four or five students speak to me at a time about anything under the sun. The university has some representatives there, so one has to be intelligent as to what topics one broaches. This does not bother the students one bit, as they drill me with all sorts of questions from my understanding of how mosquitoes reproduce to other more sensitive areas. This has served as a wonderful way to meet inquisitive friends.

“Hoping” that your work is going well.

Warmest Regards from China,

Brandon

Finding Clarity

Nothing brings about self-reflection quite like writing does.  For me, anyway.

Playing with words. Sure, that's fun.  Many people write out of sheer love for language. I'm not the best at pretty words. As an English major in college, I quickly figured that one out.  Many a wordsmith has outshown me and danced circles around my fumblesome self with sheer eloquency as I grappled to to make my point in a way that someone might take slight pause to consider before stomping over it with impressive verbosity.  Granted, the more I've written, the more I've improved.  Still, it's not reason enough to write.

Skills and hobbies? Bragging rights?  Sure, they have their perks.  But I'm not crafty.  I drool over pinterest like most other women do who want to dress like supermodels while baking like Paula Dean in a home surrounded with decor worthy of Martha Stewart; but I don't do any of these things well.  As far as I can tell, I don't have much to brag about in the world's eyes.  I'm not starting up companies or running marathons or birthing babies.  I care very little for politics, celebrities, or sports.  These things bring me no inspiration for writing.

So, no, I don't write for any of these things.  Sure, I occasionally write to entertain, more myself than anyone.  But, mostly, I write to unscramble my head.  Like untangling knots out of my curly hair after a shower, when I've been given time to reflect and sit in silence I find that I need to sort the mess inside my head much more than the strands on top.

I haven't written many posts in the past year... or two.  Inspiration leaked from me as I left China, almost as though I was a balloon poked by a tack.  I looked towards people and different relationships to fill me up, again, but it didn't work.  It's taken some time, but I'm feeling a bit more in tact. 

You see, I've been putting a box around the one being that could fill me up again; Yes, I'm talking about God.

I've spent years of my life listening to people preach about His goodness and, then, doing the same.  I've said time and time again that good works will not make you right with Him, but I secretly seemed to think they would.  I tried to put a human box around the Lord.  I've hidden from Him in my selfish and pathetic moments.  I didn't always bother asking forgiveness for my sins, because, well, people who apologize all the time can get really annoying. 

Sometimes, I swear, I can almost see God rolling His eyes at me. 

God, well, I've never had a problem believing that He is exceptional.  However, I believed He was like..... an exceptional person.  So it only made sense to think that He wouldn't want anything to do with me unless I was exceptional, too.  When, I felt exceptional, it was all good.  And when I didn't, I needed Him to give me space until I got it together again.

One picture of God that helps me most is this one: God is an artist.  As it turns out, I am an ever changing, ever-evolving substance in His hands.  He is willing to work with me, so who am I to write myself off?  For when I am weak, then I am  strong.

Dude.  If I was in the middle of a painting and someone told me just to give up I'd be seriously ticked.  "I'm just getting started!" I'd think, "Who are you to interrupt my work in progress? Who are you to tell me it's finished?"  No one else can have the vision of an artist. 

Granted, I'm not a great artist, so that wasn't the best example.  How about this one:

I have an 8th grader who can't read.  Well, he can a little. But we're talking Kindergarten level.  When I see him, though, I am hungry... I'm telling you hungry, for an opportunity to help him.  But he's so self-conscious.  I mean so self-conscious.  He's constantly putting on a show to hide the fact that he can't read.  And it's not working.  He's not fooling anybody.  And he's miserable, so very miserable because he's trying to deal with it alone.  I know that he hates that he can't read well.  It embarrasses him everyday.  But he's fighting me on it.  He doesn't want my help.  Why?  Is he afraid I'll roll my eyes at his inabilities?  He must not know me at all.

I think.... that's how God must feel about me.  And you, if you're reading.

This is us....

Stumbling.  Grappling out of sheer pride to afford our own balance, without anyone's help.  But, then, finally allowing ourselves to quit trying to hide our flaws. And then turn to God.  And with attempted defiance shout at Him, "Welp. Look at me. What can you do with this?!" And then, in that humility, realize... you're an idiot.

Yes. An idiot.

'Cause God was there all along, and you really didn't need to make it that hard.

Just saying.

 Finding clarity isn't always pretty.  But, as it turns out, it's kind of a relief.

Get up, go to bed

Fill your time inbetween

We rank our successes in life

On how quickly time passes between sleep.

Work hard, play hard

Chasing after laughs and smiles

We look for temporary fulfillment

Something to make us feel good about ourselves for a while.

Touch, and be touched

Looking for positive attention

We hope to attract that someone

Be everything to a person with good intention.

No pain, no gain.

Wreck yourself up and spew
That people don't know how to love

If they don't fully agree with you.
 

Speak up, shut up

Too "unique" for devotion

We don't dare stand up for truth

When the cool kids preach a trendier notion.

Maybe we all need to just show up, and grow up.
What we've spouted out about has been said before;
Demanding acceptance and understanding
Or we'll walk, self-righteously, out the door.

Basing truths of the universe around self,
So, history repeats itself,
Repeats itself.
And we defeat ourselves.