Trying out tumblr for a bit. I know it's more of a reposting thing, but I'd blog and post/repost random things as well. If it doesn't work out I may come back here, or wordpress.

http://hsiehthanksyou.tumblr.com/

Saving Face

Someone I respect told me recently that his motto is to not learn from his mistakes, but rather to avoid making the mistake altogether by observing other people so that he doesn't make the same. I'm not like that. I see other people make the mistake then make the mistake of thinking it won't happen to me. Call it being naive, or call it stupidity, but the only way I can really seem to learn is if it actually happens to me. I somehow managed to get all of my important documents stolen while I was in Paris while staring at the gold gilded ceilings at the Palace of Versailles, taking photos with two different cameras. Easy target population one. Alright maybe I'll give myself some slack. Population three or four. Something needs to change though, and I'm trying to be more attentive and careful with my things.

This week I put up some photos in the student gallery entitled with the verse, "For with you is the fountain of life; in your light we see light," which comes from Psalm. I didn't think much about why I chose it until someone asked me (yeah I know, bad). The photos are kind of a diary of "light," interpreted in memories and shown through vast spaces within the compositions. Some are unusual scenes, like a photo of two horse butts, and one of me crying on my grandmother's lap. That's my favorite memory of her--me crying on her lap as she shooed my grandpa away when he tried to take a photo of my blotchy face. It's interesting how something so scarring on my 5 year old self can be so funny now. There were also two photos taken from an old family album: one of my grandparents in the early 50s standing next to a horse, and one of my mom and her siblings as little kids standing in height order. I guess I chose the Psalm for this piece because it's by God's grace that I can see beauty, that I can laugh, that I can find pleasure in small, unextraordinary moments. By choosing to give me life, by giving me sight, by giving me grace. It's a scary thing to put a photo of your crying self on a gallery wall. I feel somehow that I'm plastering a private memory under glaring lights for strangers to judge and see and judge. And Grandma, frowning so loyally for my sake, with the lampshade behind her head making strange shapes with her permed curls.

It has always been my struggle to fear man over fearing God. I'm a people pleaser, but under a more critical self-evaluation, I realize there's a selfishness in it as well. A friend was discouraged today and I wanted to encourage him, but realized I didn't really know how. It made me upset that I couldn't help, and it dawned on me that being encouraging only provides instant gratification when that person is encouraged by it. If I encourage and there's no response or lack of appreciation or no recognition, there's a lot less incentive to encourage. See? Totally selfish. The hardest is encouraging without expecting anything in return, whether it be gratitude or anything else. I guess it comes down to love. Loving someone with complete selflessness and with a passionate pursuit and perseverance that sustains through any circumstance. I think that's what Christ's love looks like, even if I can't always see it or feel it. I think that's what a great marriage looks like too.

To really be genuine and honest, with others and with yourself, is a hard thing. I'm so tired of saying trite things, repeating and regurgitating words like a parrot, leaving an empty feeling on my tongue where the words just came out. At the risk of this being a long post (I think it already is, perhaps to make up for my lack of blogging), I wanted to repost something I read from someone else's blog. Someone I don't know but know of, and loves Jesus, and has such a way with words to echo those stirrings and frustrations that elude words. Except he uses his words, and somehow it works.

"This I’m learn­ing: laugh­ter is my cover and cloak. Hav­ing the right answers is my defense.

I tried to describe to Jeff this morn­ing how it felt, and I was sur­prised I couldn’t fig­ure it out. Well, it was a sorta lonely feel­ing. I’ll start from there. I real­ized in the shower the other morn­ing that I hated wait­ing. Recently I’ve been try­ing to dis­tract myself. I know it’s not help­ful, but I’d much rather be with the noise, the shiny stuff, the city din, the glitterati.

Henri Nouwen talks about allow­ing lone­li­ness to drive you to the seat of your true desire: being close to the Father. Father, I won­der some­times what the hell I am doing with my life. I want to know I want to know I want to know. When I was younger I used to pray: Jesus, be my only sat­is­fac­tion with total abandonment. It sounds com­pletely ridicu­lous, but I hon­estly didn’t expect to be here being asked of that now. I want human hands, I want tan­gi­ble touch, I want a gen­uine expe­ri­ence, and soul-connection and laugh­ter and tears.

It’s self­ish, Jesus, but on the other hand it’s not. I just want to believe it is from you, and I can expe­ri­ence it, and I can wait and say you met me on the other side. Can I ask that? Dare I ask that? I don’t want trite answers. I want to sit in the seat of the val­leys and remain there and say I waited patiently and he came, he really did.

Jonathan men­tioned that at our home group the other week. What do you want, I asked him. I want to hear him say he’s proud of me, he answered, and I thought it the most gen­uine thing I’ve heard in a while."

Have you ever

seen someone and their life and their love and think,

WOW, I want to be just like them?

but shoot I'm not cool enough,

I'm not fun(ny) enough

I'm not friendly enough

goofy enough

Holy enough

smart enough

pretty enough

adventurous enough

enough.

But God says I am just enough, enough just as I am, because Jesus is enough.

And just like that, my heart breaks just a little, but in a good way.

If you know me, then you know I love Top Chef. Hung from season 3 never ceases to crack me up. Padma looks so confused. Check it.

I am the true vine

and my Father is the vinedresser. Every branch in me that does not beat fruit he takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit. Already you are clean because of the words that I have spoken to you. Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever avbdes in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing...

As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you.
Abide in my love.

If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father's commandments and abide in his love. These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full.

John 15:1-10

Thrive

Been fighting things that I can't see in
Like voices coming from the inside of me and
Like doing things I find hard to believe in
Am I myself or am I dreaming?

I've been awake for an hour or so
Checking for a pulse but I just don't know
Am I a man when I feel like a ghost?
The stranger in the mirror is wearing my clothes

No I'm not alright
I know that I'm not right
A steering wheel don't mean you can drive
A warm body don't mean I'm alive
No I'm not alright
I know that I'm not right
Feels like I travel but I never arrive
I want to thrive not just survive

I'm always close but I'm never enough
I'm always in line but I'm never in love
I get so down but I won't give up
I get slowed down but I won't give up

-Thrive, Switchfoot

//feeling it this semester

On being a dodo head

When I was little my sister would call me a dodo head because I was (am?) kind of a dork and most of the time my head was firmly set in the clouds. I was (am?) just sort of clueless. You know how some people are excellent at turning something dumb they've done into a story and getting other people to laugh about it with them, hence increasing their likability and coolness factor at being able to laugh at themselves and tell a good story? Yeah, that's not me. Most of the time I'm too embarrassed to tell the story, unless I know the person well enough and am confident enough to embellish and make them laugh. More likely than not, the situation is basically me defying common sense, and I'm ashamed that I have to be that girl. The one that makes people roll their eyes and dismiss under a pretense of aww don't worry about it, it's not a big deal when sometimes it kind of is, or has the potential to be.

Example from not so distant past:
I was supposed to meet my cousin in NYC, but conveniently forgot my cell phone. I called my mom through a pay phone to call my cousin (instead of asking her for my cousin's # to speak directly to her) and ask her location. Then I no nonsensically told my mom to tell my cousin that I'd "meet her in the middle." Then I hung up and began to walk. I promptly realized that "meet in the middle" is an ineffective way to establish a meeting location. Hit myself on the forehead in a Doh! moment.

Example from this weekend:
Went into Newark to meet up with my sister but first I had to take the bus from the train station to her dorm. There are two options to taking the bus. Option one is to buy the ticket in advance so that you do not need to worry about paying exact fare once you get on the bus. Option two is to pay once you get on. Silly me decided to combine the two options. Here's a hint: they are two different options for a reason. I got on the bus and instead of giving her my ticket showing her where I needed to go, I delivered my ticket into the slot where you're supposed to put cash. It says, "put cash here," and instead I put in my ticket. Go figure. The bus driver said, "Um, what did you just put in?" "My bus ticket," I said. She sighs, then, "You're only supposed to put money in there." Oops. Thankfully I don't think she was too mad.

Example from tonight:
I went for a run and almost got hit by a car because I wasn't paying very close attention.

I guess it's kind of funny and trivial looking back, except maybe that last example, but honestly it just makes me feel bad. One day the not so big mistakes might become a huge mistake, and what then? I always feel like I'm the brink of messing up, of missing the memo, and rather than push me towards asking for help, the opposite occurs. Since I already constantly feel in a state of vulnerability and looking behind my shoulder to make sure I didn't cause any accidents, it has stunted me from admitting my need for help and putting myself in a position to receive it. I think that this includes asking God for help, which is a huge problem, because I can't do it alone. And so I dig a deeper hole for myself because I refuse to ask for help and keep messing up and struggling and isolation and loneliness kicks in. Feeling alone is the worst feeling in the world.


















































I just completed my first half marathon (woohoo!) and it was an awesome energy to be around the 27,000 mass of people racing in the streets. What struck me though, was the fleetingness of it all. You train, and train, and in a matter of 2 hours it's over. Fans stand near the finish to cheer their loved one on, and wait 45 minutes for a five second glimpse. After a mere six hours, everything is over, the crowds are gone, and the only remnants that 87,000+ people were in that space are the multitude of empty cups scattered across the pavement, overflowing, creature-like trash bins, and abandoned "You can do it!" signs lying near the gutter. For those few hours though, everything--the training leading up to it, the sweat, the pain, the fleetingness of the race, was all worth it. My last long run the weekend before the race was 11 miles, and because I didn't have time to do it during the day, I ran it at night. The neighborhoods near my house are really dark, because the street lights are far and in between. I mapped out an 11 mile course in advance, but I had never run down some of these roads before, and running into darkness, on unfamiliar terrain, was a bit jarring. My feet were hesitant, and every jut on the road was a surprise, because I couldn't see the ground beneath me and anticipate the cracks. It was cold, and I was operating on memory that I was going in the right direction. At one point it was pitch black and I was going down a slope in the road, the inky silhouette of a barn to my left and an empty field to my right. I felt so alone and lost, even though I knew I wasn't lost. Then I remembered in John where it talks about Jesus as the light of the world, and I have never been so thankful that Jesus is light, and not darkness. He is warm, not cold. He illuminates, even while He is a mystery. For that, I am so thankful. It got me thinking about how blessed I am--that even though I felt incredible darkness and loneliness in that moment, it was a temporary state, and the final destination was home. But is that how some people feel all the time? Like they're living in darkness and in a state of constant spiritual darkness? It must be terrifying.

That was a long babble, I know, but I figure I'd make up for the months that I haven't posted, haha. This has been one of the toughest semesters yet in terms of growing mentally, doubting myself, and discovering what kind of woman God wants me to be. I know that I have to learn to not be afraid to admit I need help and ask for it. I also know that I need to grow in compassion for people, and to desire to love others in need rather than being selfish and looking out for only myself, which I'm not doing very well either. Mostly, I need to spend more time with God. Bottom line, if I want to walk the walk I talk. And because He is the creator of the universe, all powerful, and completely deserving of worship. 'Nuff said.

and just because Tangled is awesome, I'll leave you with this video. See below the video for the highest 'liked' comment. It made me lol :) Some peoples are so funny.