Sometimes I think I just get in the mood to publicly write something. Maybe that's why people like these things... it gives us a forum (or sometimes a badly desired save-the-world soapbox) to say what's on our minds in an arbitrary way.

I've been back in America for three weeks now... strange... Everything is just the way I remember it, except that now I live in Colorado (well, for a few more weeks, at least) with my family. I'm not sure how to process the stuff in my head. I'm not sad or angry or culture-shocking or screaming to return (yet...). It's kind of cool to be this extremely average person at Wal-Mart whom no one takes notice of 'cause they thankfully have better things to do than to stare at the lone foreign whitie in proximity. I forgot about gas station cappuccinos (which are disappointingly sweeter than I remember and a little hard to stomach) and dogs that bark in order to intimidate and bite in order to prove that no, they are not just at the bidding of these rich people who pay for them to live longer than the average overseas human. (Is that cynical? Maybe that's why I just keep my mouth shut these days... I hate that all these cynical thoughts are circulating my over-stimulated brain.)

I have more time to read and to sleep. I'm used to walking around a LOT more on busy, crowded streets and people talking to me while I do... but I'm willing to admit that even though the streets are a bit lonelier for human life here, it's okay that I have more time to think, think, think. Social interaction is a bit more awkward now. People who really know me are great... we can pretend that no time passed at all. And strangers are easy enough 'cause they don't know me from Adam and I don't know them, and we can talk about mundane, impersonal things around us without ever bringing up this aching hole in my heart called Asia. The in-betweener relationships are going to be a bit trickier, especially ones where I need to give an encouraging, profound Christian testimony. I'm not sure I'm good at that sort of thing. I am a profuse word-vomiter, not a preacher or word-crafter by any stretch of the imagination. I don't know which stories will inspire or encourage; I only know the things everyone else knows about the past two years of their lives: stories are recalled when the memory is stimulated by this smell or that song or that thing your friend from that place always used to say. So what if my stories occasionally have monkeys or beggars or Buddhist monks in them? And it's awkward and mind-numbing listening to anyone drone on for any length of time, so why should people humor me and handle me gingerly and nervously like a terminal patient? Conversations are better when they are two-way or the fun small-group kind. I desperately need the wisdom and passion of others' lives and dreams and desires, too.

These things I know:  I am wildly ignorant about many planes of life- parenthood, marriage, grad school, new music, and these insanely fun fashions that have invaded our formerly earth-toned, bland society... I have so many things to learn from people here. I also realize that it is impossible to save the world in any temporal way- I am jaded to those ways- but we must always live with the dream of it in our hearts or we die without hope. I still want to save the world in a desperate way, the way people stay together through the ebb and flow of love, when it is strong and when it is just a glowing ember of its former fire.

I know that Jesus is hope and life and people need that kind of grace. I also realize that so few people have truly, truly accepted grace in their lives. They say they do-- but grace doesn't change your Sunday morning routine- it changes your life, challenges every perspective you ponder, and wonderfully and rudely alters every human interaction you have. Christians profess this entirely revolutionary sort of belief system, of Someone taking the shame and evil deeds from their wholly messed-up lives, meaning a person doesn't HAVE to endure lots and lots of successive lifetimes working off the burden of evil until it is obliterated and he enters some state of blissful freedom from that evil, for example (we believe in one lifespan on earth... but reincarnation isn't exactly a perk for people- more lifetimes to try to achieve a holiness that will always evade them). So Christians talk a lot about there being a Way from the impending doom of hell if only a one-time commitment would be made... But it's more daily than that. It's a daily choice to love Jesus, to lay down one's life for others the way He'd do it for you. It's a painful realization of seeing your ugliness in light of His loveliness, your mistakes in view of His perfection...and knowing that no amount of do-gooding and sucking up is going to ever tip the scales in your favor enough to obliterate even one teensy white lie or bad thought to make you PERFECT and HOLY and SPOTLESS. Impossible. Utterly. Might as well die and get it over with 'cause it's logical that you're destined for hell sooner or later. It is an incredible kind of stubbornness to witness how some people will continue to try harder than ever thought possible... a little awe-provoking and admirable... but the worst kind of bleak and hopeless, even if doggedly determined.  So when you're trying THAT hard to earn a measure of righteousness, it's seriously good news when you hear about a way to rid yourself of this damning shame and sorrow you can't seem to shake- fabulous, incredible news when you accept that He takes it away forever. And utterly life-changing when that kind of grace takes you from wanting to rip out all the hidden evil in your gut to ushering you into this crazy love and deep-sigh kind of peace that cannot be rivaled.

So no one can save the world. It's not ours to save. But I know Whose world it is- and I want Him to enable me to love it in such a radical, daily, sacrificial way that people want the Love that is Him. I'm not good at that; none of us come by it naturally. We don't want to get our hands dirty; we don't want to be bored by other people's problems and long-winded speeches. But love is just that basic. It doesn't come merely through a program or organization. It comes via open ears and open hands and even through a stifled yawn and an avoided temptation to glance at a watch when someone is rambling and no one is there to witness your good deed of being a good Christian listener. Love is sneaky and quiet and happy when its emissary is invisible to all but the recipient sometimes.

So those are the thoughts in my mind. I want Jesus, purely and honestly, without a human's taint or spin on Who they think He is. I want to meet Him all the time and know Him for myself. I want His fortitude to love people, especially those who were on His side but who could have potentially made Him weary... But He never sinned. I am not that pure. Big churches are scary now, and it is difficult to accept a true Word of the Lord without warring against doubt and this insufferable desire to inwardly scoff. Everything is a little hazy now... but Jesus is clear. And loving. And true. And He listens to me, only God knows why. So I trust and move on and let Him heal my wounds and rip out this pride from my heart. And each time He does, I understand grace a little more... I have no idea why I have expended the time typing all this out, but it's nice. I don't care if only God ever reads this; maybe it was only meant for Him anyway and I just needed to change up things from journaling with a pen for a bit, allow my hand to uncramp. :) God is good; I am certain of it.