The wind has been blowing something fierce. This is no pleasant wei feng; it is a fierce gale that leaves nothing undisturbed. It is a wind that redirects steps, slams classroom doors, and requires us to lean in order to remain standing.
We don’t lean away from the wind, or we will fall down. We must lean into the wind, embracing it, and allowing it to support us. It’s uncomfortable, but that is the only way to stay on the path.
Images from today fill my head, causing me to smile, ponder, and laugh: students on the sidewalk outside building two, walking 30 degrees from vertical; a chicken on the road behind building four, unable to complete its journey to the chicken coop; blowing rain streaking the windows of my sun-filled classroom; ...
the hopeful and optimistic faces of students – in class on a Saturday afternoon – hearing out my dreams and plans for the coming years, sharing theirs with me.
As the end of the semester looms, I find myself constantly needing to lean into the One who is orchestrating all of these changes. I can’t lean away from the fact that we are leaving in well under two months; I can’t ignore the growing need to close really dear relationships; I can’t turn my back on the highly ambiguous future that awaits on the other side of the ocean. I’m tired and windblown, but I will continue to lean into the changes, embracing as best I can the beauty, delight, and challenge that these final weeks in China will hold.
"Today the wind is too strong," observed the man who runs the shop downstairs. The wind tore the sign off his door and nearly knocked me down on the way to class... but I understood what he said in Chinese!!!!
We don’t lean away from the wind, or we will fall down. We must lean into the wind, embracing it, and allowing it to support us. It’s uncomfortable, but that is the only way to stay on the path.
Images from today fill my head, causing me to smile, ponder, and laugh: students on the sidewalk outside building two, walking 30 degrees from vertical; a chicken on the road behind building four, unable to complete its journey to the chicken coop; blowing rain streaking the windows of my sun-filled classroom; ...
the hopeful and optimistic faces of students – in class on a Saturday afternoon – hearing out my dreams and plans for the coming years, sharing theirs with me.
As the end of the semester looms, I find myself constantly needing to lean into the One who is orchestrating all of these changes. I can’t lean away from the fact that we are leaving in well under two months; I can’t ignore the growing need to close really dear relationships; I can’t turn my back on the highly ambiguous future that awaits on the other side of the ocean. I’m tired and windblown, but I will continue to lean into the changes, embracing as best I can the beauty, delight, and challenge that these final weeks in China will hold.
"Today the wind is too strong," observed the man who runs the shop downstairs. The wind tore the sign off his door and nearly knocked me down on the way to class... but I understood what he said in Chinese!!!!
