There are few things I am more moved by than the celebration of the Eucharist on a Sunday morning. The incarnation of Christ is perhaps the most mystical aspect of the Christian faith and the Eucharist is the nearest I can come to experiencing His physical presence here on Earth. While I don't believe that the bread and wine themselves become holier when they are used for this purpose, I am thankful for it's representation of a tangible Savior.
The reminder of Christ incarnate by way of the Eucharist means two very significant things to me: 1) a Savior able to identify with all that I experience (Hebrews 4:15) and 2) a body not all that different mine endured incredible suffering in place of me (Matthew 27:27-46).
The breaking of bread for the breaking of the body. The pouring of wine for the spilling of blood. The humanity of the divine Christ becomes very clear to me while remaining completely astounding and mystical. As paradoxical as that seems, I think it is the essence of faith. The more we learn and understand, the more we find to seek and discover. That is beautiful; it is the mystery of Christ as man and divine embodied.
In Girl Meets God Lauren Winner writes, "For people with bodies important things like love have to be embodied. That's all. God had to be embodied, or else people with bodies would never in a trillion years understand about love."
Communing together over bread and wine does much for the edification of the Church, as well. Food and drink are at the very base of humanity's needs, and to share in them, whether over a table of pizza or in the pews, brings about a level of intimacy and deepened relationships.
Another bit from Lauren Winner: "Holy Communion is another name, and there are good reasons to speak of taking communion. Those words remind us that we are not only drawing near to God, but that we are doing the most basic and social thing, we are eating together, we are drawing near to one another."
In church buildings where stained glass windows and brightly illuminated texts have been replaced by sound systems and powerpoints, it is easy to become academic and logical about things, dealing only in reason and that which we see. To strip our faith of the element of mysticism found in something like the divine made man is to remove one of its most fundamental tenets. To be thoughtful and intentional about the Eucharist, the representation of Christ made man, is to bring back this mysticism, which is sure to open our lives to a realm we can never fully understand but will always crave to know.
Wednesday, October 07, 2009
Saturday, October 03, 2009
Let me introduce you to my new hobby
Somewhere in the middle of my 406 day blogging hiatus I became obsessed with photography. I do not use the word obsessed lightly. It happened one day in March after I shot a few pictures with my friend's Nikon D40.
After acquiring my own D40 as an early graduation present, I effectively captured the last 3 weeks of my college career in beautiful, brilliant, sharp photos. I was hooked. While in North Carolina, I was privileged to do some work with a professional photographer. I helped shoot a wedding, did some marketing and business things for her, and learned SO much. We ventured to the zoo one day to shoot for fun. 
I also took family pictures for the 2009 Christmas cards, especially challenging since I also needed to be in the pictures. We were trying to get a head start so that they could go out in February instead of July like they usually do.
The best thing about photography, especially photography in the digital age, is that that you can be self-taught. Every time I take a picture, I learn something new about what I like, what works, what doesn't work, and how to more effectively shoot. It's such a great learning process, and you don't waste all that film.
So far, I've enjoyed shooting our nature adventures, which is really easy to do when you live in
Western North Carolina. I've attempted some inner-city shots in Atlanta, DC, Baltimore, and Seoul, but it's hard for me to just "see" what works there. Some people can take shots of buildings and they look super, ultra cool; mine mostly look like buildings. I'm still a huge fan of jumping pictures and have remained unscathed since the tailbone incident of April 2008. And finally, I thoroughly enjoy shooting kids. My niece is a wonderful practice for this.
Career? I don't think so. But, everyone needs a hobby, right?
Photos: slinky bobcat at NC Zoo; family pose in Todd, NC; Sadie on a walk
After acquiring my own D40 as an early graduation present, I effectively captured the last 3 weeks of my college career in beautiful, brilliant, sharp photos. I was hooked. While in North Carolina, I was privileged to do some work with a professional photographer. I helped shoot a wedding, did some marketing and business things for her, and learned SO much. We ventured to the zoo one day to shoot for fun. 
I also took family pictures for the 2009 Christmas cards, especially challenging since I also needed to be in the pictures. We were trying to get a head start so that they could go out in February instead of July like they usually do.The best thing about photography, especially photography in the digital age, is that that you can be self-taught. Every time I take a picture, I learn something new about what I like, what works, what doesn't work, and how to more effectively shoot. It's such a great learning process, and you don't waste all that film.
So far, I've enjoyed shooting our nature adventures, which is really easy to do when you live in
Western North Carolina. I've attempted some inner-city shots in Atlanta, DC, Baltimore, and Seoul, but it's hard for me to just "see" what works there. Some people can take shots of buildings and they look super, ultra cool; mine mostly look like buildings. I'm still a huge fan of jumping pictures and have remained unscathed since the tailbone incident of April 2008. And finally, I thoroughly enjoy shooting kids. My niece is a wonderful practice for this.Career? I don't think so. But, everyone needs a hobby, right?
Photos: slinky bobcat at NC Zoo; family pose in Todd, NC; Sadie on a walk
Friday, October 02, 2009
Hello, October
October: the leaves change, temperatures drop, school is really in full swing, fall decorations are everywhere, Halloween - all very important and prominent parts of this new month.
In addition to all that is Fall, October is awareness month for breast cancer, domestic violence, down syndrome, dental hygiene, SIDS, and world blindness, to name just a few. The fact of it is, almost every month of the year is rife with causes to support, programs to give money to, and places to volunteer.
For bleeding hearts like myself, this means an onslaught of heart-wrenching emotion. We feel the immediacy of every cause when we see an advertisement with a lonely battered woman or a child's belly swollen with hunger or a young man sorting through trash heaps or a shaking puppy without a home. There is a part of us that could be behind almost every cause; compassion, sympathy, and hopefully empathy seep out of our every pore.
Therein lies the fundamental problem: we can't support every cause. If we tried, we would spread ourselves so thin we couldn't be of use to anyone. I have to believe there is a cause for everyone because all of us have different hearts and minds. So, how do you choose?
1. Find the cause that won't leave you alone, that keeps you up at night. Choose the one that has you day dreaming about what a world without X would look like and what you could do to make that reality.
2. Discern your passion. For example, the commercial with dish detergent being used to clean off the little animals covered in oil is touching, but it's merely a cuteness factor. The ad agency who created the commercial did a good job, but it isn't my passion. To find the cause right for you, you've got to know what you really, really care about for the long-term.
3. Know your skills. We're all talented in some ways, both natural and learned. A lot of skills are extremely transferable when it comes to this area, but some causes call for a special skill. For example, in order to advocate an increase in music education in public schools, you might be taken a bit more seriously if you have some involvement in music yourself.
4. Volunteer. There is at least one nonprofit associated with any cause and they're almost always looking for volunteers. Seek out these opportunities; they will help you determine if the cause is something to which you'd really like to commit or if its time to find another.
In addition to all that is Fall, October is awareness month for breast cancer, domestic violence, down syndrome, dental hygiene, SIDS, and world blindness, to name just a few. The fact of it is, almost every month of the year is rife with causes to support, programs to give money to, and places to volunteer.
For bleeding hearts like myself, this means an onslaught of heart-wrenching emotion. We feel the immediacy of every cause when we see an advertisement with a lonely battered woman or a child's belly swollen with hunger or a young man sorting through trash heaps or a shaking puppy without a home. There is a part of us that could be behind almost every cause; compassion, sympathy, and hopefully empathy seep out of our every pore.
Therein lies the fundamental problem: we can't support every cause. If we tried, we would spread ourselves so thin we couldn't be of use to anyone. I have to believe there is a cause for everyone because all of us have different hearts and minds. So, how do you choose?
1. Find the cause that won't leave you alone, that keeps you up at night. Choose the one that has you day dreaming about what a world without X would look like and what you could do to make that reality.
2. Discern your passion. For example, the commercial with dish detergent being used to clean off the little animals covered in oil is touching, but it's merely a cuteness factor. The ad agency who created the commercial did a good job, but it isn't my passion. To find the cause right for you, you've got to know what you really, really care about for the long-term.
3. Know your skills. We're all talented in some ways, both natural and learned. A lot of skills are extremely transferable when it comes to this area, but some causes call for a special skill. For example, in order to advocate an increase in music education in public schools, you might be taken a bit more seriously if you have some involvement in music yourself.
4. Volunteer. There is at least one nonprofit associated with any cause and they're almost always looking for volunteers. Seek out these opportunities; they will help you determine if the cause is something to which you'd really like to commit or if its time to find another.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
a letter: the mini time capsule
There are few things in life I love more than a letter sent via post There is something very intentional about letter writing, something so patient and thoughtful. More than a phone call, which often results in instant feedback; more than an e-mail, the format of which almost mandates brevity; more than a tweet or text, which limits thoughts to 140 or 160 characters - I treasure letters above all of these things.
An envelope addressed to me amongst the day's mail is like discovering an unexpected Christmas present behind the tree after all others had been opened. When I lived with the Shengs, TS would joke that I got more mail then they did. He was joking, but only in part. The truth is, I am an excellent letter writer (humble, too), and the best way to get letters is to write them. I love the time that it takes to sit down and write a letter to someone - a real letter, one that details your comings and goings, lessons learned, the simplest and grandest things of life all at once, etc.
Letters are like tiny time capsules. They are written one day and arrive a few days later, unless the USPS is really off and then they arrive 47 years later. A letter freezes time and sends it off to be shared by another. Whatever happens after I lick the disgusting glue on the back of an envelope cannot be recorded in that particular time capsule. It must wait its turn for another. A letter, thus, is the perfect way to share life with people far away. Unless you write letters like e-mails or texts or tweets, then there is no summarizing, no jumping to the end of the story, no telling the main points - there is only that moment or those moments in which what really matters is present.
With my affection for letter writing comes an extreme fondness for the stationery aisle in any store. I could spend hours and hours and hours and dollars and dollars and dollars in those blessed aisles picking out the perfect stationery on which to write. On the days when I'm feeling even more creative, I pick through magazines and cut out pictures fit for a card front. If you want to make me late or seriously distract me, send me the stationery aisle in any store.
Don't get me wrong - I am often appreciative of the immediacy of technologically advanced forms of communication, and I anxiously await the day when I can send invisible thoughts to my friends via the chips implanted in our brains, but there is still nothing like a letter. Send me one. I promise I'll write back.
An envelope addressed to me amongst the day's mail is like discovering an unexpected Christmas present behind the tree after all others had been opened. When I lived with the Shengs, TS would joke that I got more mail then they did. He was joking, but only in part. The truth is, I am an excellent letter writer (humble, too), and the best way to get letters is to write them. I love the time that it takes to sit down and write a letter to someone - a real letter, one that details your comings and goings, lessons learned, the simplest and grandest things of life all at once, etc.
Letters are like tiny time capsules. They are written one day and arrive a few days later, unless the USPS is really off and then they arrive 47 years later. A letter freezes time and sends it off to be shared by another. Whatever happens after I lick the disgusting glue on the back of an envelope cannot be recorded in that particular time capsule. It must wait its turn for another. A letter, thus, is the perfect way to share life with people far away. Unless you write letters like e-mails or texts or tweets, then there is no summarizing, no jumping to the end of the story, no telling the main points - there is only that moment or those moments in which what really matters is present.
With my affection for letter writing comes an extreme fondness for the stationery aisle in any store. I could spend hours and hours and hours and dollars and dollars and dollars in those blessed aisles picking out the perfect stationery on which to write. On the days when I'm feeling even more creative, I pick through magazines and cut out pictures fit for a card front. If you want to make me late or seriously distract me, send me the stationery aisle in any store.
Don't get me wrong - I am often appreciative of the immediacy of technologically advanced forms of communication, and I anxiously await the day when I can send invisible thoughts to my friends via the chips implanted in our brains, but there is still nothing like a letter. Send me one. I promise I'll write back.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Wonders never cease
It's been 406 days since my last blog post. That's a record lapse, even for me. For the most part, it wasn't intentional. Things got busy, of course, when I headed back to school for senior year. Then I heard someone say, "Blogging is the epitome of narcissism. Too many people who think they have something that the rest of the world needs to know." So, I needed to think about that one for a few weeks, and by the time those few weeks were over, I was too long gone to make a comeback.
And so here I am, 406 days later. It seems nearly impossible to document all that happened in those days. There was my final (and favorite!) year of college, graduation and a lot of sad goodbyes, time in both Maryland and North Carolina, an international move to Korea (yes, I moved to Korea to teach for a year), a sudden return from Korea, a funeral, an ongoing job search, and a lot of CSI episodes.
Currently I find myself in rural Maryland. The couch has more or less changed shape to fit my rear-end and I've just about seen every CSI episode ever created... Las Vegas, Miami, AND New York. Almost everyday I search online for more places to send cover letters and resumes. I'm thankful the process is online, though, or I'd be spending a small fortune on postage.
Additionally, I've burst into the retail word as a sales floor associate at Target. Organizing men's deodorant and pet supplies wasn't exactly what I had in mind when I toiled away for 4 years in pursuit of my English/Communication degree. However, I suppose it's better than "Would you like fries or onion rings with that?", which is what everyone teases English majors about.
As an aside: the fact of it is, I majored in English because I love literature, I love writing, and I love the two together. I did not major in English because it is where all the jobs are post-graduation. Practical advice to any student: study what you love.
I can't use one blog entry to fill you in on the last 406 days, but I hope that everything I have learned and am continuing to learn can come out in the days ahead... maybe even 406 and beyond. While this may be a revival of leslitab.blogspot.com, don't expect a reinvention. My plan is to write just as I always have - thoughtfully (most of the time), honestly, and, well, so that you can hear me just the way I would tell you if we were face-to-face.
And so here I am, 406 days later. It seems nearly impossible to document all that happened in those days. There was my final (and favorite!) year of college, graduation and a lot of sad goodbyes, time in both Maryland and North Carolina, an international move to Korea (yes, I moved to Korea to teach for a year), a sudden return from Korea, a funeral, an ongoing job search, and a lot of CSI episodes.
Currently I find myself in rural Maryland. The couch has more or less changed shape to fit my rear-end and I've just about seen every CSI episode ever created... Las Vegas, Miami, AND New York. Almost everyday I search online for more places to send cover letters and resumes. I'm thankful the process is online, though, or I'd be spending a small fortune on postage.
Additionally, I've burst into the retail word as a sales floor associate at Target. Organizing men's deodorant and pet supplies wasn't exactly what I had in mind when I toiled away for 4 years in pursuit of my English/Communication degree. However, I suppose it's better than "Would you like fries or onion rings with that?", which is what everyone teases English majors about.
As an aside: the fact of it is, I majored in English because I love literature, I love writing, and I love the two together. I did not major in English because it is where all the jobs are post-graduation. Practical advice to any student: study what you love.
I can't use one blog entry to fill you in on the last 406 days, but I hope that everything I have learned and am continuing to learn can come out in the days ahead... maybe even 406 and beyond. While this may be a revival of leslitab.blogspot.com, don't expect a reinvention. My plan is to write just as I always have - thoughtfully (most of the time), honestly, and, well, so that you can hear me just the way I would tell you if we were face-to-face.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Not enough persecution
If I was a really knowledgeable person I would start off this post by telling you how many times Paul (and other followers of Jesus, for that matter) were persecuted in Scripture. I don't have those facts.
Now that I have admitted my lack of knowledge to you, let's proceed.
It occurred to me this morning... or was it last night?... either way, it occurred to me that I am not persecuted enough.
I can think of two times in my life that I was actually persecuted for myself after sharing Jesus with someone. Here is one story:
While I was in Istanbul, I was sitting by the Bosporus Strait with my friend Courtney. We were reading Scripture aloud and a crowd of about 15-20 teenagers had gathered around us. (It was kind of a Jesus moment.) They spoke a bit of English, although some of them just repeated lines they'd heard repeatedly in American movies. This experience made me re-think the influence of the media, but that is for another day.
We managed to tell them what we were doing in a conglomeration of Turkish and English - reading Scripture from the Incil (the New Testament; pronounced In-jeel) and learning about Isa (Jesus; pronounced E-sa). It didn't take long for us to realize that the teens who had once been so interested in us were now scoffing at us. One girl had taken my Bible from my hand; I had visions of it being thrown into the Strait. The boys were saying nasty, inappropriate things to Courtney. They had surrounded us.
Any and all reasoning that we tried was fruitless, so we made the decision to leave. It wasn't enough for about 8 of the older boys, who decided they would follow us for about 1/2 a mile before approaching us again. "Barrack!" I exclaimed. Not to be confused with the presidential candidate, this is the Turkish word for "go away". When said angrily, it means business. They finally left us after another 10 minutes of inappropriate phrases and laughter.
I was almost certain that my lesson was how to have compassion for people even when they despise you. I still had to love the people of Turkiye, even though I wanted to hate those boys. This was a good lesson, but looking back on it, I don't think it is the whole of what God was trying to teach me.
I always tell myself that I want to live a life of risk and that with risk comes failure. For some reason, I have always twisted that to mean people will think I have failed because I will not be rich, not have a 'real' job, live in some obscure location, etc. I think, perhaps, I should begin to assume those factors will just be a part of my everyday life - things to rejoice in and pray over.
And I think I should change the mantra to, "I want to live a life of risk and with risk comes persecution." I probably won't be beheaded or cut in half or dismembered, but I might be laughed at, mocked, chased, belittled and misunderstood.
So perhaps persecution should become some sort of quantifiable data for me. If I'm not persecuted x amount of times in a month, then I am not sharing Jesus enough. It is practically a given that some people will dislike me because I am a follower of Jesus but that should not, under any circumstance, stop me from sharing Him. I want to be a world changer and I want to go because Jesus compels me and I want to see justice and I want to do all of these things, but how could I even stake a claim on any of them if I cannot share Him at the risk of being mocked?
Perhaps this is what Paul means when he delights in persecution and suffering. It means he's doing it right! If the evil in the world hates him and the work he is doing, he's living this life the way Jesus has asked him to. One day he's going to hear the Father say, "Well done, my good and faithful servant." I want to hear that, too.
Now that I have admitted my lack of knowledge to you, let's proceed.
It occurred to me this morning... or was it last night?... either way, it occurred to me that I am not persecuted enough.
I can think of two times in my life that I was actually persecuted for myself after sharing Jesus with someone. Here is one story:
While I was in Istanbul, I was sitting by the Bosporus Strait with my friend Courtney. We were reading Scripture aloud and a crowd of about 15-20 teenagers had gathered around us. (It was kind of a Jesus moment.) They spoke a bit of English, although some of them just repeated lines they'd heard repeatedly in American movies. This experience made me re-think the influence of the media, but that is for another day.
We managed to tell them what we were doing in a conglomeration of Turkish and English - reading Scripture from the Incil (the New Testament; pronounced In-jeel) and learning about Isa (Jesus; pronounced E-sa). It didn't take long for us to realize that the teens who had once been so interested in us were now scoffing at us. One girl had taken my Bible from my hand; I had visions of it being thrown into the Strait. The boys were saying nasty, inappropriate things to Courtney. They had surrounded us.
Any and all reasoning that we tried was fruitless, so we made the decision to leave. It wasn't enough for about 8 of the older boys, who decided they would follow us for about 1/2 a mile before approaching us again. "Barrack!" I exclaimed. Not to be confused with the presidential candidate, this is the Turkish word for "go away". When said angrily, it means business. They finally left us after another 10 minutes of inappropriate phrases and laughter.
I was almost certain that my lesson was how to have compassion for people even when they despise you. I still had to love the people of Turkiye, even though I wanted to hate those boys. This was a good lesson, but looking back on it, I don't think it is the whole of what God was trying to teach me.
I always tell myself that I want to live a life of risk and that with risk comes failure. For some reason, I have always twisted that to mean people will think I have failed because I will not be rich, not have a 'real' job, live in some obscure location, etc. I think, perhaps, I should begin to assume those factors will just be a part of my everyday life - things to rejoice in and pray over.
And I think I should change the mantra to, "I want to live a life of risk and with risk comes persecution." I probably won't be beheaded or cut in half or dismembered, but I might be laughed at, mocked, chased, belittled and misunderstood.
So perhaps persecution should become some sort of quantifiable data for me. If I'm not persecuted x amount of times in a month, then I am not sharing Jesus enough. It is practically a given that some people will dislike me because I am a follower of Jesus but that should not, under any circumstance, stop me from sharing Him. I want to be a world changer and I want to go because Jesus compels me and I want to see justice and I want to do all of these things, but how could I even stake a claim on any of them if I cannot share Him at the risk of being mocked?
Perhaps this is what Paul means when he delights in persecution and suffering. It means he's doing it right! If the evil in the world hates him and the work he is doing, he's living this life the way Jesus has asked him to. One day he's going to hear the Father say, "Well done, my good and faithful servant." I want to hear that, too.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Why you should go to Europe at least once in your life
Reason # 276: kinder chocolates...
I have yet to find a kinder product that I do not like. The maxis (pictured left) are a fabulous combination of milk chocolate and some type of milk-ish filling that melts in your mouth. They make these adorable little treats called Hippos (pictured below) that are, you guessed it, hippo-shaped wafers filled with deliciousness. I can't really tell you exactly what kinder products have in them because I have never been able to read the wrapper, but I can tell you that whatever they put in is guaranteed to be good. 
If you're really lucky, you live near one of the few stores in the States that actually sell kinders. For example, if you live in San Francisco, there is this tiny corner store above the Stockton Tunnel next to the Tunnel Top Lounge that sells a few kinder products. Random, I know.
If not, you'll just have to get yourself over to Europe, find the nearest grocery store in almost any western European city and go to the candy aisle. Along the way, pick up some Fanta Cintron. (That was for you, D.)
Hmm... now I'm hungry. And I just ate the last of my kinder maxis yesterday.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Why hating this job is a good thing
This is my third summer working as an intern for ACS, formerly Orbital Sciences. Since the summer after my freshman year of college I've been doing technical writing and editing for the company. In a non-glorified description, the company designs systems used by mass transit organizations to stay organized. And in a non-glorified description of my job- page break here, index coding here and "is this the right way to word this?"
The point is- the job is totally corporate world. I have a cubicle with my name on it, a machine made by Dell to stare at and a large reproduction room that probably cuts down 7 trees a day for all the paper we go through.
The first summer I was here, I loved this job. I thought working in an office was great- I loved the responsibility; I loved the tasks. That summer I was almost certain that I could be a corporate executive for the rest of my life with that BMW I'd always hoped for.
The second summer I felt less strongly about reaching the corner office at the top of the ladder, but I was pleased with the job and my place in cubicle nation. At the same time, I thought there might be something more for me out there.
Here I am, third summer in a row. I am still at this internship because, with the salary I make here and a few other funds available to me, I will graduate from college without any debt, thereby freeing myself up to do virtually anything. One thing I will not do: return to this job, or one like it for that matter.
My life was definitely meant for something more than a cubicle, something a little more outside of the box, pun intended. And this is the very reason why I had to have this job for 3 summers in a row- because I needed to learn that I couldn't have this job for the rest of my life.
And so, as I pretend to have control over the course of my life after college, I am setting one rule for myself: Live a lifestyle that matters. That's all, although it's no small task. I know everyone says they want to change the world, but really, I do. I want to leave the world different, better, changed.
Some may call me an idealist, and they would be correct.
(Even writing this post scares me. Now it is out there for all of you [all 2 of you] to read, which means I have to be serious about it. Zoinks.)
The point is- the job is totally corporate world. I have a cubicle with my name on it, a machine made by Dell to stare at and a large reproduction room that probably cuts down 7 trees a day for all the paper we go through.
The first summer I was here, I loved this job. I thought working in an office was great- I loved the responsibility; I loved the tasks. That summer I was almost certain that I could be a corporate executive for the rest of my life with that BMW I'd always hoped for.
The second summer I felt less strongly about reaching the corner office at the top of the ladder, but I was pleased with the job and my place in cubicle nation. At the same time, I thought there might be something more for me out there.
Here I am, third summer in a row. I am still at this internship because, with the salary I make here and a few other funds available to me, I will graduate from college without any debt, thereby freeing myself up to do virtually anything. One thing I will not do: return to this job, or one like it for that matter.
My life was definitely meant for something more than a cubicle, something a little more outside of the box, pun intended. And this is the very reason why I had to have this job for 3 summers in a row- because I needed to learn that I couldn't have this job for the rest of my life.
And so, as I pretend to have control over the course of my life after college, I am setting one rule for myself: Live a lifestyle that matters. That's all, although it's no small task. I know everyone says they want to change the world, but really, I do. I want to leave the world different, better, changed.
Some may call me an idealist, and they would be correct.
(Even writing this post scares me. Now it is out there for all of you [all 2 of you] to read, which means I have to be serious about it. Zoinks.)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
