Turning This Old Ground

Daniel and I have been putting our heads together for ideas to turn our home into a retreat home. Like anything worth having, it requires planning, sacrifice, and obedience to carry through. When we first married and I moved in, we had so much junk between the two of us. It didn’t take us long to realize that for us to make it a functional space, most of our personal possessions had to be purged. Something had to give.

Turning a house into a home is a process. It took us so much longer to make the inside of our home reflective of our new life together than it took to clear out the exterior (the part people tend to notice the most.) We learned and are still learning that growing together starts from the inside out. We had petty arguments, we cried, and most importantly, we faced each other’s fears together. Over time, it gets easier because all the stuff that needed to be dug up had already began to turn and was dealt with. In a way, facing each other’s fears and speaking truth cleared the ground for better things to be built on. There’s a part of me still kicking and screaming. Marriage is such a new concept.

Yesterday as I tilled our hard soil to make room for a garden, I was reminded of a song lyric from the band Gungor that goes:

Could all that is lost ever be found?
Could a garden come up from this ground at all….?

Oh, you make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us

Like making a house a home, pursuing a person for relationship goes through the same process. May God meet us all half way when we give up this old ground for better things to be built on. May every relationship we pursue be pursued from the inside out.

-Stef (The kicking and screaming Negoon)

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year to whoever is reading this. Is anybody out there? Not sure where to pick up but how about a bulletpoint list of shocking life factors that have taken place since my last post.

I Stefani in the past 3 years have…

• met a cute Swedish man with a red beard who plays the banjo
• turned out he’s crazy about Jesus so I had to lock him down for life
• moved from Dallas to Ft. Worth to Midcities to what I will now call “the sticks”
• have 2 dogs and a goat pending
• started a serious attempt to learn more about gardening and horticulture
• started this crazy low-carb high fat diet that is making me feel mentally and physically indestructible
• worshipped Jesus at the foothills of a mountain
• learned that I am terribly broken but redeemable
• learned that forgiveness is always an option

More later. I’m too wired on fat to type properly. Negoon over and out.

 

Third World Appetite

“If I could do it again, I would never get married. I would work hard, travel, and know what it’s like to be alone.”

I am 26 years old. For at least all of my existence, my mom has phrased these words voluntarily during our lunches, dinners, car rides between stores, as if it had been the most unsettling idea of her life. Alone. She savors the word slowly as if tasting it without ingesting. There would never be any transition between the last topic to the thrown idea of solitude. The idea of living independently intrigues her and frightens her. While most women her age would desire to have better things, the thought of having better counter-tops, remodeled rooms, and fancy cars seemed excessive and inept compared to other things. Like most other middle aged women of her culture, she is bound by necessity and custom, as she spent the majority of her adulthood being a caretaker for someone else. It is a duty, not an option. The year her dad died in ’68, after being blown up to pieces in a gruesome accident by a grenade planted by a soldier in the communist party, my mom worked relentlessly to provide for her family, tasting the poor life for the first time with welted hands from carrying heavy wicker baskets transporting fish in open markets with her mother to feed 4 other hungry mouths. Her marriage shortly after would provide little relief. Being away from her family in a different part of Vietnam committed to a man who met her work ethic and spiritual beliefs, it seemed good. According to my mom, it was good because life was simple and in a country where hunger was the most feared form of death, being married to someone meant that your chances of being hungry would be less likely. Having enough to eat and being alive was good enough. It was good, she said. “We were healthy. We had enough rice to live on. God loved us.”

No one ever tells third world women that their appetite will change when they settle into the new world. Their children adapt quickly for a taste of their immediate culture and further away from their parents’. As a child of a first generation immigrant, I learned to eat my rice with chopsticks and inevitably with a fork and spoon, conscious of the correct way to hold a knife and fork in the appropriate hand in situations where chopsticks would not be available. I carry my parents’ hereditary culture with me; always in pocketful of respectable greetings and proper phrases to greet my elders, addressing them as “cô,” “chú”, “câu,” “bác” to signify the relativity of relationship to our family or the ranking of superiority. I bow to them with humility and know that stirring inside me, something is saying why should I feel inferior? Even though it gratifies my parents that we still abide by these customs, strangely over the years my parents have moved further away from the community which their Vietnamese friends find refuge in. When my parents saved enough money to move us out of our tiny downtown apartment to a house in suburbia, they were relieved to escape the confrontation of their own culture that dwindled as they gained better paying jobs and opportunities that would never come to them if they ever stayed in their home country. In a way, the Vietnamese community reminded them of the place that held them back. My parents like every first generation immigrant, marveled at their accomplishments, could not wait to throw parties and invite their friends from the city to their very small parcel of America which they would pay in mortgage payments well into their retirement.

When my dad seemed over-complacent, my mom in her 50s wonders if she will ever know the gratification of loneliness. She is happiest when she makes short trips to the store on her own, buying things for the family, without the family besieging her. For someone who is terrified of eating at a restaurant alone, she reveres that she can accomplish small tasks by herself, having an hour a day to reminisce who she was before she was someone’s wife or mother. One afternoon, over crispy noodles heavily sauced with seafood and vegetables at her favorite Chinese restaurant, she said, “Don’t marry a Vietnamese man. He’ll be oppressive.” To mock her, I told her I was going to marry a fine Black or Hispanic man. She always makes a face at me, laughs, and gives into the idea that no matter who I marry, somewhere down the road, the boundaries that confine our culture will be loosened with every generation. I realize as we gain the options to choose where our lives will go, we must also confront the question whether to choose to carry our culture with us. When I speak my hereditary language, I submit and become inferior or superior. Every Vietnamese word that comes out of my mouth will carry the essence of the order of things and someday, I too will have to ask myself if I want my children to inherit the caveats of their ancestors.

Stefani

“Being a Single Christian Woman: Blessing or Burden?” by Amanda

Stef here,

A word to all my single friends.

Being a Single Christian Woman: Blessing or Burden?

As a young Christian woman, I’ve recently become very interested in the writings of Leslie Ludy, a bestselling Christian author who is passionate about reaching young women with the message of Jesus Christ.  Her writings often reflect upon issues that I deal with in my faith journey and help me to discover how I can live a life that’s more centered in Christ.As I was skimming through the different reflections, blogs and articles that appear on Ludy’s website, I came across something in the Q&A section that really hit home for me.  A girl wrote to Ludy asking for advice, saying that she’s a college sophomore and has never been in a serious relationship (which I could immediately relate to, since I’m a rising college junior in the same situation).  The girl wrote about her frustration about the fact that our culture, even Christian culture, places a great deal of emphasis on relationships. She mentioned that she has prayed to God, asking Him to “write her love story” (as I have), but she has faced an incredible amount of pressure from her Christian community towards a relationship and ultimately marriage.Girls are praised when they have found their dream man, but when they still have yet to find “Prince Charming,” they are told that God will one day place a man in their lives — as if the sole purpose of their lives is to get married.  The letter-writer asked Ludy how to respond to people who keep emphasizing the need for her to have a man in her life without sounding jealous or bitter.

In her response to the writer, Ludy agreed that Christian communities tend to be very unsupportive of single women.  Often, the very people who should be inspiring them to live a life completely devoted to Christ are the ones who severely lower their self-esteem, leading them to believe that they need a marriage to be complete.  For single women, unfortunately, a Christian community often presents a source of discouragement instead of encouragement.

Sometimes, the emphasis Christian communities place on marriage is so great that the single life is harshly condemned as sinful.  Ludy quotes a book entitled Getting Serious About Getting Married – Rethinking the Gift of Singleness that says:

The belief that remaining single is legitimate and godly is a work of the devil. Read that again:  Satan dishonors marriage by fooling us into believing that singleness is okay (page 43).…men and women who are not connected in marriage are like the mutilated members of a mangled body (page 28).

WOW.  If this is true, it means that there is no way for a woman to glorify God other than getting married, her so-called “duty.”  I agree with Ludy in her disagreement with this view.  As Ludy pointed out, this message leads many Christian women to settle for men who are mediocre and self-centered, just so they can supposedly fulfill God’s will.

As Ludy pointed out, single women should not let their lives be consumed by their perceived “need” to find a man.  All that a woman should be concerned with is devoting her life to Jesus Christ and serving Him faithfully.  Upon reading this, I thought of the words of a song by John Waller called “While I’m Waiting.” Here are the lyrics to the chorus:

I will move ahead, bold and confident
Taking every step in obedience
While I’m waiting I will serve You
While I’m waiting I will worship
While I’m waiting I will not faint
I’ll be running the race
Even while I wait.

While a woman is waiting to find the man of her dreams, she should not fall into a slump of misery.  Her heart should be enlivened and she should grow deeper in her relationship with God.  If she happens to fall in love with a man, oh how lucky that man will be to find a woman who is so devoted to living her life for the Lord.  If she does not, that’s fine too, because her relationship with God is enough for her and provides the eternal fulfillment that no human relationship can.

When a woman’s eyes are solely focused on receiving the applause of Heaven, and no one or nothing else — not even the Church community, they will develop a different feeling about their singleness, one that is joyful rather than bitter.

Ludy’s words truly inspired me and helped me to reevaluate my singleness as a blessing rather than a burden.  My singleness is a journey, not some sort of trapped prison.  It’s a journey of growing in my trust of the Lord and believing that He has a plan for me — and whether it be single or married life, it won’t matter.  On my journey of singleness, I will move ahead, bold and confident, taking every step in obedience.

Do you believe singleness is a blessing or a burden for a young woman?  Do you think the Christian Church often places too much emphasis on marriage for women?  If you’re a single Christian woman, how do you deal with the sometimes excess pressure towards married life?

The Landing

Heidegger called today and he told me to tell you that I have been silent since my last post because I’ve had SOMETHING to say. I’ve been meaning to write more frequently but I’ve been too busy living my thoughts out loud. Also, I’ve moved back to the city due to sudden events and have since found myself very alone. It’s frightful and liberating. Many things are uncertain at the moment but I think the uncertainty comes from pondering the possibilities of what’s to come for me in the future. The unknowing leaves room for doubt. I will not be consumed by the fear doubt brings.

No worries. God has plans for me and I feel that big changes are coming my way.

Moving back to the city where I spent all my childhood and half my life is a highly nostalgic experience. The heavily polluted sunsets have a way of looking brighter and beautiful than the sunsets I see in the suburbs. Every evening from 6:30 – 7:00 different hues of bright pink and burnt oranges twist together then stretch out so low over the horizon, I swear I thought the house might catch on fire.

It’s East Dallas. The neighborhood has its quirks. A man with an ice cream cart passes through early in the afternoon. By night, people walk their dogs in groups because maybe the dogs too are afraid of the horror stories that happened 1 block away from here in the ’80s.

Living in a house built in 1927, (that’s 2 years after the Wall Street Crash and 15 years after the Titanic sank), has its quirks. For example, I can’t tell if the neighbor below me is listening to heavy metal music all night long of if the floors between us have no insulation causing every sound from my apartment to the apartment below to act as a portal for guessing games of what we do for fun in our homes.

I imagine the people below looking toward the ceiling wondering if I have a mariachi band. Oh goodness, how will they stand me when I play my electric guitar?

Well for better or worse, I signed a 12 month lease for this apartment. For 630 sq feet, I think I have a deal. I love that I’m 6 minutes away from the office and 6 minutes away from Lakewood. Being close to Lakewood, makes me feel like an alien. I will save this last thought for a very rainy day.

Stefani Negoon, over and out.

Negooning in the new year

Hi! Stef here, I just realized even though I’m down to just 1 full-time job with no school, I’ve spent less time outdoors than before which made me sad. Since Texas weather has been known to be unpredictable and we were blessed with gorgeous weather in the late 60s to 70s, Negoon and I decided to really enjoy it with walks and random photos.

Stef’s hair journey 2012

What a girly subject to write about. It seems vain with the exception that hair styles are often associated by a season, an event, or something memorable that happened to me this year. Maybe documenting a haircut will help me remember these things. I’m not sure but at the moment, seems like a perrrrty good idea. Besides if I decide to get a mohawk and regret it, I can kick myself in the butt if it turns out bad since I’ve got proof that I looked better with longer hair. ha!

JAN

dark brown

MARCH

highlights lightened by the sun

MAY

brown, growing bangs, hair naturally lightened by sun

JUNE

unbearably long

JULY

inexcusably long, ash brown highlights

AUG

Ash brown all over + covering old highlights

OCTOBER

dark brown

NOV

choppy bangs, layers starting at chin length

A day in Glen Rose, Texas

Around 11 a.m. Saturday, Tran and I left the DFW metropolis to venture into small town shenanigans in Glen Rose.

It’s known for Fossil Rim (a wildlife safari tour), Dinosaur World, and Dinosaur Valley state park where some of the best preserved dinosaur tracks can be found in the world. The objective of the trip was to get away from the smog of the city and do some hiking. Since each attraction requires hours to see it all, we opted for the state park and reserved the rest of the evening to check out local shops in the historic neighborhood. We arrived at Dinosaur Valley State park around 1 p.m. to 1,500 acres of rolling hills filled with biking and hiking trails and infamously known for the well preserved foot prints of carnivorous dinosaurs (theropod) and large round sauropod dinosaur .

Here are some photos of the fossils. All of them were found along side the Paluxy River.

After lunch we ventured into historic downtown for some legendary pie. I had their famous buttermilk pie but thought it was way too sweet and eggy. Tran had the coconut caramel pie. A silky frozen pie with a whipped topping on graham cracker crust. Topped with toasted coconut flakes and drizzle with caramel. To die for!

We ended the day with some Texas BBQ @ Ranch House BBQ on Big Bend Rd and saw a musical about the life of Jesus. It was a wonderful production with an amazing cast. Even though it was 53 degrees outside, and by the end of the evening our thighs were sore from all the walking, I think we both could agree that

1. Bring a blanket to watch a show at the amphitheater if the weather is below 70 degrees.

2. If you’re planning to have local adventures in Glen Rose, keep in mind most things close by 5 p.m.

3. It also ain’t a town for clubbing or night life. We wondered, where all the locals go to party?

I think the highlight of this trip was getting a chance to be outdoors for a little bit and take in some nature which is refreshing when one gets so use to the pollution and noise of city life.

little truths

Tran and I often have very insightful conversations over our meals where we mull over the meaning of life and the meaning of, well meaning. There are some thought provoking points I’d like to write out lest I forget:

1. Everything is meaningless until you’ve been filled by the spirit.
2. No matter how delicately we prepare ourselves to deliver unpleasant news, we have no control over how the opposite person will receive it.
3. If the person does not handle the news well, you take responsibility for their tears but not their conviction.
4. The truth is  a hand grenade of reality.
5. One’s  emotions and thought processes are two separate entities and until they both align with one another, it is wise to not speak impulsively since it may result in regret and disdain of a growth opportunity.
6. Live with a sense of urgency so that it pushes you to live intentionally with meaning but do not live in such a hurry that you miss out the hard parts that build up character. Do not forget to have fun and enjoy little things.
7. The sky is there for you. When things look ugly on earth, just look up and remember that you are small.
8. Every little speck matters because you matter to God. Let him show you what one small speck can do!
9. Loving another human means understanding that they need joy outside of the relationship you offer them and that you are not their only source of happiness.
10. If you are not self-less when you love, you will be relationship-less in the end.
11. Do not think you could ever have a fulfilling long term relationship with someone who does not believe in God. So.. why waste time starting a short term one?
12. Never, ever, go on a date with someone who thinks churches were built to show off to one another.
13. Never, ever, go on a date with someone who does not read books.
14. A person’s circle of friends often say a lot about who the person is. Choose your influences wisely.
15. Be smart and never add your boyfriend or girlfriend on facebook.
16. If someone randomly asks what your opinion about them is, then it’s probably because they don’t know who they are yet and you’re about to determine it for them.
17. Co-dependency is another word for for Co-Identity. LOL.

Good night all.
Stefani

Just a speck

My world has been shaken up-
As subtle as last Saturday’s earthquake, the impact was small but I know it occurred because some of us had felt it. Those of us who did not feel the earthquake, whose minds have been dampened by our own worries and anxieties just missed the earth’s shifts and turns. Is anyone else in awe that while we are but a speck on this earth, we are capable of shaking and feeling every turn of this great sphere? Even when we do not feel every inch of it’s turn, we have a relationship with the creator because we too, rock quietly against the violent rhythms of the ocean?

Whatever the ocean felt that night, I felt it too.

I am wonder-struck. I am but a speck.
How can I make sense that the stars above me see me as clearly as I see it glistening?
I am but a speck. As small as a wildflower whose evening bloom receives the sky
I know that when I stop to look at the sky, I know that it notices me as well.

There is a constant disconnect between myself and another world that exists outside of me. My desire to belong to something greater than me is so strong that it has pierced a hole in my heart so large that no man can dare fill it. So there you have it. This is an illustration of the human condition that we were created less whole so that he can come in and complete us in a way that not any person or majestic ocean can fill.

So I begin to count backwards the 26 years of my life and was saddened that I had enthroned the material world so that God’s beauty could be objectified instead of appreciated. Then as I winded the clock back, I questioned in what day and what hour, in which transition between sleep and conscientiousness had I decided to begin to grow a distaste of harsh neon lights and loud music blaring from the streets. When did I begin to detest the smell of cheap perfume and idle conversations? When was it that all my favorite things like the smell of fresh rain became a burden?

When did I realize that my silence would speaker louder than my words?

I don’t know when I gradually sobered into a state of calm and saw that the cause of my own hurt and the hurt of others was the result of suffering from some kind of deficiency.

Eccleciastes 3 states:

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:

2 a time to be born, and a time to die;

a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;

3 a time to kill, and a time to heal;

a time to break down, and a time to build up;

4 a time to weep, and a time to laugh;

a time to mourn, and a time to dance;

5 a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;

a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;

6 a time to seek, and a time to lose;

a time to keep, and a time to cast away;

7 a time to tear, and a time to sew;

a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;

8 a time to love, and a time to hate;

a time for war, and a time for peace.

Maybe I’ve been prepared for the impact  of what just happened or maybe for once, I’m more aware that I’m actually more connected to non-human nature than I realize. I’m starting to see that when I’m sad, God not only comforts me but also directs me to other ways that I can experience joy. This is proof that joy is not derivative from a relationship or a person because humans do not make up for each other what the other is lacking.

As I was driving home today, a Sarah Mclachlan song came on and it just reminded me of someone I care so much about. I’m still working things out and processing all that has happened in such a short amount of time. I am sure of only one thing: that God’s will is good even if things don’t turn out the way I predicted it to be. Who am I.. but a speck to assume that what I see is all that God has to offer?

What ravages of spirit
Conjured this temptuous rage
Created you a monster
Broken by the rules of love
And fate has led you through it
You do what you have to do
And fate has led you through it
You do what you have to do …
And I have the sense to recognize that
I don’t know how to let you go
Every moment marked
With apparitions of your soul
I’m ever swiftly moving
Trying to escape this desire
The yearning to be near you
I do what I have to do
The yearning to be near you
I do what I have to do
But I have the sense to recognize
That I don’t know how
To let you go
I don’t know how
To let you go

This is Stefani signing off. Good night all.