A blog entry, shaped roundly, swirling

As of this past Tuesday, my YWAM friends are home from their three-month outreach in India, China, and Nepal. Most of the students leave for their homes early this week, but the staff (Raquel, Mikayla, Anna, Kimberly, Jordan, and Josh—all my friends, all in their twenties) will all still be here, as well as Sam (the German raised in India who dressed up as Aladdin for Fall Fest.) Josh shared some pretty gnarly stories at Radnight on Thursday—he was sick for two of the three months of outreach. Like, super sick. His poop was white.

This morning at church, various members of the mission teams shared about their experiences. I caught up with Sam after church and our talk gravitated toward literature, which is a never-ending discussion, and by the time we wrapped it up his ride had left. I took him back to the YWAM base in Anahola to save him from having to hitchhike, and I explored the base a bit when we got there—they have an orange cat! His name is Leo, and he’s adorable. Everyone was scattered around either getting ready to go to the beach, thinking about going to the beach, or already at the beach, which is a quick walk across the street from the base. I just happened to have a swim suit, towel, and sun screen in my car. I’m either well-prepared or really messy. I’ll claim either.

So I got changed and walked with Sam to the beach to set up camp with the YWAMers who were already there. It was a BEAUTIFUL day. Sunny, warm, clear. After laying out for a few minutes, Mikayla, Sam, a married couple who I don’t really know, and I got in the water and spent quite a while floating over the (small) swells, chatting, and body surfing. I should probably admit that I only actually body-surfed correctly once… the other times included a lot of unnecessary underwater tumbling. Great fun. After the water-playing, Mikayla, Christina (one of the students who is leaving on Tuesday) and I laid out in the sun and talked, talked, talked. 

I went home, sandy, slightly sunburned, and happy.

For a while now, most of the YWAMers have been pressuring (no, not pressuring… encouraging) (maybe begging) me to do a DTS. I’ve mentioned it in my blog before, I think, but a DTS is a Discipleship Training School consisting of three months of Bible teachings followed by three months of outreach on the mission field. I would love to do a DTS. I would love to spend six solid months living in community with these people. I would love to attend lectures and listen to speakers. I would love to travel overseas.

But it seems too easy.

The word Sam used to describe it, after I explained my mess of thoughts to him, was “convenient.” It would be very convenient for me to apply for the September DTS, raise the support money, continue working part-time during the first three months or training, then take off three months for outreach. It would all work perfectly. Fit right into my life. Neat and tidy.

But I don’t want a DTS to be a “eh sure, might as well” decision. I want to have to wrestle with it. I really, really wish I felt “called” (a tricky concept in itself) to do a DTS. I wish it was something about which I felt a raging passion. Because seriously, it would be awesome. But my friends who have done DTSes have done so out of an unquenchable desire to serve the world and bring about social justice. I like social justice; I think it’s super cool. I’m just waiting for that unquenchable desire to spark in me, and in the form of direct gospel ministry. I hope it does. I have a feeling it won’t.

I was explaining it to Jordan (one of the YWAM staff, covered in tattoos, possibly the quirkiest person I’ve met, totally rad) this morning after church, and by “it” I mean my confusion about what my “calling” is. I raved about how I want to road trip the U.S., but I want to simultaneously be in some sort of ministry, and I want to write meaningful things, and I want to travel overseas, and I want to be a part of something bigger than myself. When I stopped talking and sat back to breathe, he said, “Sounds like you’ve got it figured out to me.”

I suppose he’s right.

He worked it into a pretty accurate analogy: all of those things I want so desperately to do are clustered together in a ball—a ball of awesome, abundant life—and as I wait for the right time to pursue those desires, the life experience I gain and the knowledge I receive all swirl into the ball, informing those desires and filling them out. The task, then, becomes to mold the ball into something linear, to pull out the desires that are ripe and act upon them.

Oh, and just to give you a visual, my ball is orange. I don’t know why; it just is. Yours can be whatever color you see, but mine is orange. Bright orange, and swirling.

This blog entry is in ball form—a cluster of bright orange, swirling ideas and moments and conversations. I wish I had the time and energy to fashion it into something linear that is easier for you all to read and to understand where I’m coming from. (From where I’m coming?) But the kind of time I need to make sense of all this isn’t measured in minutes or hours but in years, in a lifetime. I told Jordan that I have a feeling I’ll spend most of my life remolding the orange ball, bouncing it around off of walls and ceilings in experimentation, and by the end of it all, the ball will be the same and what will have ripened are the eyes through which I see it. (The eyes through which it I see? Through which eyes… screw prepositions.) He wasn’t quite ready to subscribe to that belief, and I don’t blame him. I’d like to believe that life can make sense as we’re living it, too, and not just at the end of it all.  

But…

…does it really matter? This afternoon it sure seemed to matter, the whole “purpose” and “calling” thing, but after writing about it for a while, I’m ready to put it down for the night. Because… I’m super young. I have a plethora of plans and dreams. I love the people I’m surrounding with, all of them. I’m going to have an awesome life. I currently have an awesome life.  

Basically, formless though it may be... my bright orange ball rocks.

(Post script: In case you feel like I’ve left you hanging… the tsunami (thankfully) ended up being a bit of a non-event on Kauai, though parts of Maui and the Big Island sustained a bit of damage. I’m crafting a blog entry concerning the tsunami events; it’s coming soon. I was overwhelmed by how many of you from back home prayed for the island and our safety… thank you all, truly.)