I received an email in my inbox at the beginning of the week that said "Happy Lab Week. You are appreciated." Something lit up inside of me. Oo! They're going to give me free stuff! Last year they gave me a meal ticket and a gift card to the bookstore...I wonder what it'll be this year... And that little spark of joy and anticipation stayed with me the next few days.
Today I had a conversation in the lunch room with a woman who was telling me about her research. "It's difficult...because you work and work and work and you hardly ever end up with the results you want."
Oo...chord within me has been struck. That's exactly it. That's exactly how I've been feeling for a while now. Nothing I do is going to give me immediate results and most often not the results that I'm anticipating. With every process of fundraising, there is more waiting. And fifty appointments does not necessarily equal lots of money. And as I hope and long to see real transformation in the lives of college students and of my coworkers and of my family...quick results are pretty much unheard of. In fact, real transformation cannot fully be evaluated until some twenty or thirty years have gone by.
But everything in me says that that's not the way it should work. Since childhood I've been raised with a narrative that goes something like this: You work hard = You reap the benefits. You are lazy = You reap the consequences. You study well = You get the satisfaction of seeing "A"s on your report card. You do a good job at work = You get a...
A bag?? I half chuckled to myself as I went down to pick up my "appreciation" gift. A mass manufactured black insulated bag with "Pathology and Laboratory Medicine" printed on the front. Oh! How much I had looked forward to receiving something that said I was appreciated for my work. (And don't get me wrong...I'm thankful for the bag). But now what will become of it? It will probably sit in our apartment for years, adding to the pile of random objects in our already overflowing closet.
I found myself telling my friend in the lunch room "But think of how meaningful your research really is. We may never see the full effect of it...maybe not till 100 years down the road...But just think of how many lives might someday be saved because of your grueling work."
And a voice popped into my head. "Those words were meant for you." Hmm.... I guess I'll prefer the wait.
The Gift of Fund Development
I have officially begun the process of finding and inviting a team of people to support the ministry here at UCLA.
How's it gone so far? I've pretty much been schooled by Jesus just about every day.
A few snapshots of all I've been learning:
How's it gone so far? I've pretty much been schooled by Jesus just about every day.
A few snapshots of all I've been learning:
- People are generous...especially those who have little money to give.
- God provides...usually in the most unexpected ways.
- Jesus wants to make me into a generous and bold person.
- Potential donors have SO much to teach me from their life experiences.
- Money is only about 10% of what this is all about. Much of it is about partnership...praying for and encouraging each other. But all of it is about being discipled by Jesus.
- I must simultaneously put to death all desires to please people, but also continually think of ways to serve them well by being relevant and articulate.
- I love campus ministry and God is breaking my heart for college students more and more.
- The chance to fundraise is a gift. And I must praise God for it every day.
A Redeemed Church
I've seen some beautiful moments at church the last few weeks:
Today the pastor called all the men in the church to practice laying down their lives for their wives by taking the postures of servants in their marriages. About thirty men came to the front of the church to confess they needed help in their marriage and wanted to be better husbands. It was beautiful. Made me cry.
Last week at my home church, in what used to be a largely all white congregation, at least four different languages were spoken from up front, including Armenian. It was beautiful. Made me cry.
I love church. I think that, due to the fact that I work with so many college students who've had bad experiences at church, I've been trained so much to say that I understand it's got its faults and that it often doesn't represent what Jesus actually taught.
But I really like church. There has rarely been a time that I've gone to church, in the last 24 years of my life (or at least those that I can remember), that I haven't been either blessed, challenged, or filled with much joy and peace. :)
Today the pastor called all the men in the church to practice laying down their lives for their wives by taking the postures of servants in their marriages. About thirty men came to the front of the church to confess they needed help in their marriage and wanted to be better husbands. It was beautiful. Made me cry.
Last week at my home church, in what used to be a largely all white congregation, at least four different languages were spoken from up front, including Armenian. It was beautiful. Made me cry.
I love church. I think that, due to the fact that I work with so many college students who've had bad experiences at church, I've been trained so much to say that I understand it's got its faults and that it often doesn't represent what Jesus actually taught.
But I really like church. There has rarely been a time that I've gone to church, in the last 24 years of my life (or at least those that I can remember), that I haven't been either blessed, challenged, or filled with much joy and peace. :)
A Rich Heritage
Mom and I listened to the recordings of Dad's memorial service tonight. Here are some highlights from what people shared:
And that yearning I have for the world to know the dad I had is just a tiny reflection of the desire I have for the world to see how great of a God I have. I want to be like my dad because, when people saw my dad, they saw Jesus. And my prayer and deepest desire is that somehow, through the mystery and grace of God, they might see Jesus in me too.
For everything in me (in regards to both my dad and to Jesus - though the latter all the more) just wants to scream to the world, "You gotta meet my Dad! You gotta meet my Dad!"
- When Dad was in grad school at USC, he burned a hole in a door across the hall with his laser beam. :)
- In the 1970s Dad organized a trip for 150 college students to attend Urbana. (Little did he know his daughters would continue that tradition. ;))
- Dad introduced his friend, Steve Dashiell, to Jesus when he was in grad school and they were best friends for some 25 years after that ("they" meaning Dad and Steve but you can include Jesus in that too).
- One of the top managers at Xerox said that he learned everything he knew about parenting from my Dad.
- Several missionaries said how much they felt like our house was a home to them when they came back on furlough and how much wisdom and encouragement Dad gave them when they were here.
- Dad had a record at Xerox of all his achievements and groups that he's managed. The last entry said "Group Managed: Family. Highest Position Attained: Father."
And that yearning I have for the world to know the dad I had is just a tiny reflection of the desire I have for the world to see how great of a God I have. I want to be like my dad because, when people saw my dad, they saw Jesus. And my prayer and deepest desire is that somehow, through the mystery and grace of God, they might see Jesus in me too.
For everything in me (in regards to both my dad and to Jesus - though the latter all the more) just wants to scream to the world, "You gotta meet my Dad! You gotta meet my Dad!"
A Runner's Thoughts
Do you ever wonder what a runner thinks about when they're en route with no iPod or friend to talk to? Here's a little snap shot from my run this morning:
Oy...it's painful to be awake right now. Should I take the dirt path? Or the road? Dirt? What if I break an ankle...eh...what the hay...
I wonder what I'll have to do at work today... (Sinking feeling.) I have to say goodbye to Sudheer and Priya today. Science is stealing them to Texas. MAN I really hate goodbyes. How can God give me so much love for someone is so short of time? I had no idea when I started this job that I'd end up crying for a hours because I'm going to miss them so much.
Those two older men are wearing suits and the same hats. I wonder where they're from. Maybe Professors? Just taking a walk? Some cult? I bet they're in the mafia...
I wonder what Priya thinks about her new Telugu Bible. Will I still get to be a part of her life somehow and see how she continues growing spiritually while she's in Texas? I hope so.
"In-N-Out." Aagh...Don't want to smell that right now. Ooo...in four days I'll get to eat chocolate again!...Ok, don't think about food right now...
Why do I hope? It's so stinkin' painful. The more I hope and have faith the more I get hurt.
Ok. That freakin' street cleaning truck has been following me for five minutes now. If I could just run faster to get far enough ahead of him...DANG IT. I forfeit. Let me just stop and pretend to tie my shoe so he can pass me up.
Could I be like those grandmothers who pray for their children 45 years before seeing them experience Jesus? Or like one of those evangelists who really tries everything for a few years and fails miserably only to see God work wonders a couple years down the road? Jesus, what are you trying to teach me?
OH...the HILL... Minnie! I need you right now! 1,2,3...4,5,6...1,2,3...4,5,6...
Oy...it's painful to be awake right now. Should I take the dirt path? Or the road? Dirt? What if I break an ankle...eh...what the hay...
I wonder what I'll have to do at work today... (Sinking feeling.) I have to say goodbye to Sudheer and Priya today. Science is stealing them to Texas. MAN I really hate goodbyes. How can God give me so much love for someone is so short of time? I had no idea when I started this job that I'd end up crying for a hours because I'm going to miss them so much.
Those two older men are wearing suits and the same hats. I wonder where they're from. Maybe Professors? Just taking a walk? Some cult? I bet they're in the mafia...
I wonder what Priya thinks about her new Telugu Bible. Will I still get to be a part of her life somehow and see how she continues growing spiritually while she's in Texas? I hope so.
"In-N-Out." Aagh...Don't want to smell that right now. Ooo...in four days I'll get to eat chocolate again!...Ok, don't think about food right now...
Why do I hope? It's so stinkin' painful. The more I hope and have faith the more I get hurt.
Ok. That freakin' street cleaning truck has been following me for five minutes now. If I could just run faster to get far enough ahead of him...DANG IT. I forfeit. Let me just stop and pretend to tie my shoe so he can pass me up.
Could I be like those grandmothers who pray for their children 45 years before seeing them experience Jesus? Or like one of those evangelists who really tries everything for a few years and fails miserably only to see God work wonders a couple years down the road? Jesus, what are you trying to teach me?
OH...the HILL... Minnie! I need you right now! 1,2,3...4,5,6...1,2,3...4,5,6...
Damn Denim
(Pardon my French.)
I bought a pair of denim shorts from Old Navy the other day and wore them once before washing them. Bad idea. Ever since I've had bad itching all over my legs. Feels like a million mosquitoes attacked me. I'm telling you...I always have the weird and painful yet totally harmless stuff happen to me. Sigh...
The costochondritis (miserable chest pain) has finally subsided for the most part though. I think God is testing my ability to cope with pain...
I bought a pair of denim shorts from Old Navy the other day and wore them once before washing them. Bad idea. Ever since I've had bad itching all over my legs. Feels like a million mosquitoes attacked me. I'm telling you...I always have the weird and painful yet totally harmless stuff happen to me. Sigh...
The costochondritis (miserable chest pain) has finally subsided for the most part though. I think God is testing my ability to cope with pain...
5 Years
5 years ago, today, I woke up to go running with my brother and came back to hear the news that my dad had ran his last.
I don't really have much eloquent to say, but I feel a deep need to say something. That's been my frustration all day. Someone needs to remember. Someone needs to say something. But no one here ever knew my dad. No one here knows just how great he really was. And, sadly, I lack the words to tell them. I can talk all day about silly little stories - of how he did triple axles in the parking lot after church every Sunday or how he was addicted to watching "24." I can go a little deeper and talk about how he helped me with my homework and read his Bible every day. Of how he had missionaries over all the time and loved to learn about other cultures. But nothing I can say really does justice in explaining how great of a dad I had.
He wasn't a famous preacher or a missionary martyr or anyone who might cause us to have a holiday to remember him by. He was an engineer. An engineer who went to the same job for 35 years. He was quiet and pretty serious and not always recognized. And yet his impact was huge. I really think he led by Jesus' ministry model. Invest in a few and impact the world. My dad invested in four people - my mom, my sister, my brother, and myself. Sure, there were plenty of others he cared for and served, but he definitely gave up his time and life for us. And, not to boast, but I think it's only fare to say that his investment is paying off.
My mom has played a huge role in her church and is a woman of great influence there and at her work. Not to mention she has great influence in her family. :) My sister is overseeing a college ministry in San Diego where they are seeing hundreds of students become new believers. My brother is a key leader in his church group and has seen it grow from five to over thirty in just a few years. By God's grace I have seen many students and friends decide to follow Jesus for the first time and am now going into full time ministry.
And how did my Dad do it? He didn't preach any wild sermons at us or demand that we follow Jesus. No, he led by example. He woke up every morning to pray and meet with His Father. He put his family above his work and refused to travel much or work overtime. He dedicated one day a week to God, and family, and rest. When we asked him for advice, his first question for us was if we listened to God about it yet. And then he empowered us. He told me he loved me and was proud of me nearly every day. He asked me for prayer when I was just a little girl. He sent me to go to India and Mexico to have experiences of God in new environments. He loved Jesus and prayed for me every day. And really, I don't think anything else could have been more powerful.
And so, no one here knows my dad. My kids will never know him. Probably only a couple hundred people could ever say they really knew him. But his impact and his influence is immeasurable. And so today is technically Casar Chavez day. But I want to also call it Dr. Ronald Earl Joiner Jr. day. Because I think he deserves it. And boy I wish the world could just stop for a minute and remember him.
I don't really have much eloquent to say, but I feel a deep need to say something. That's been my frustration all day. Someone needs to remember. Someone needs to say something. But no one here ever knew my dad. No one here knows just how great he really was. And, sadly, I lack the words to tell them. I can talk all day about silly little stories - of how he did triple axles in the parking lot after church every Sunday or how he was addicted to watching "24." I can go a little deeper and talk about how he helped me with my homework and read his Bible every day. Of how he had missionaries over all the time and loved to learn about other cultures. But nothing I can say really does justice in explaining how great of a dad I had.
He wasn't a famous preacher or a missionary martyr or anyone who might cause us to have a holiday to remember him by. He was an engineer. An engineer who went to the same job for 35 years. He was quiet and pretty serious and not always recognized. And yet his impact was huge. I really think he led by Jesus' ministry model. Invest in a few and impact the world. My dad invested in four people - my mom, my sister, my brother, and myself. Sure, there were plenty of others he cared for and served, but he definitely gave up his time and life for us. And, not to boast, but I think it's only fare to say that his investment is paying off.
My mom has played a huge role in her church and is a woman of great influence there and at her work. Not to mention she has great influence in her family. :) My sister is overseeing a college ministry in San Diego where they are seeing hundreds of students become new believers. My brother is a key leader in his church group and has seen it grow from five to over thirty in just a few years. By God's grace I have seen many students and friends decide to follow Jesus for the first time and am now going into full time ministry.
And how did my Dad do it? He didn't preach any wild sermons at us or demand that we follow Jesus. No, he led by example. He woke up every morning to pray and meet with His Father. He put his family above his work and refused to travel much or work overtime. He dedicated one day a week to God, and family, and rest. When we asked him for advice, his first question for us was if we listened to God about it yet. And then he empowered us. He told me he loved me and was proud of me nearly every day. He asked me for prayer when I was just a little girl. He sent me to go to India and Mexico to have experiences of God in new environments. He loved Jesus and prayed for me every day. And really, I don't think anything else could have been more powerful.
And so, no one here knows my dad. My kids will never know him. Probably only a couple hundred people could ever say they really knew him. But his impact and his influence is immeasurable. And so today is technically Casar Chavez day. But I want to also call it Dr. Ronald Earl Joiner Jr. day. Because I think he deserves it. And boy I wish the world could just stop for a minute and remember him.