We stereotype like crazy when it comes to who or what is spiritual.

Once my mom left a particular church because the minister said he smoked a cigar on vacation. She just couldn't believe anyone who smoked could have anything to say about God- it's part of the ex Mormon in her I guess. I hate cigar smoke, but I don't really care if a minister smokes, or see it as any sort of gauge of spirituality. I'm sure that minister wouldn't have mentioned the cigar if he knew ahead of time that he would lose a member of his congregation because of it. There is an element of being a role model when you are a member of the clergy, but how can you predict just what will hit someone the wrong way?

I am sort of nervous about preaching at our church which is very small and friendly, except for one guy who sits in the front row who is soooooo formal. I know one of his employees really well, and she says he is always calling her in about her clothes- for instance, she wore a black dress and he told her black was only for evening wear. She also got in trouble for wearing brown. So now I'm afraid I'll get raked over the coals for breaking some sort of fashion taboo out of ignorance because we really don't have a lot of fussy rules in the Southwestern. (Back East, my daughter says people won't wear white until after Easter and before Labor Day.)Actually, the big truth is, I'm afraid he is very old school and probably objects to a woman in the pulpit.

It's really hard to be yourself- I love the way Jesus did his own thing and let the chips fall where they may. I don't want to be tip toeing around somebody else's expectations but do it all the time.

I hardly ever want to mention I'm a vegetarian because I'm afraid people won't want to invite me to dinner; it feels like a giant character flaw. And I never want to tell my neighborhood friends that I am studying for the ministry. I'm afraid they will think I'm a no fun sort of geek and will harangue them until they convert... Of course the truth is I AM actually boring and, I would love to talk to them about Jesus but nearly always bite my tongue. Mostly, I want to blend in, but it is really hard for me to do that in Malaysia.

One reason I don’t get excited about living on campus is my home in KL is so breathtaking. The actual house is sort of old, but the yard is stunning. And usually I do my schoolwork sitting outside at a picnic table. Being outside even makes what would otherwise seem like drudgey, fun.

I looked all over town for a place my dogs could have a blast running around in, and was resigned to living with at a house with only a small patch of grass because the realtor wasn’t coming up with much else. Then one day, while looking at another house, I saw the house of my dreams. It was on a mountainside with a huge yard and nature everywhere you look. The trouble was, the house wasn’t for rent so I didn’t think too much about it- just tucked the thought away that given a choice, that is where I would live.

Looking back, I forget what a miracle it is that the very next week, that particular house went on the market, and we could rent it for a price within our allowance, beating out other potential renters who had a bigger budget.

Anyway, this is an email I sent my friends yesterday:

This afternoon I discovered wild orchids in one of our trees. The flowers are white on delicate branches. So I cut a few of the stalks and put the flowers in a vase. Then after that, I just walked around our big yard to see whatever else I have overlooked all this time. Oh my gosh, it is such a tropically beautiful yard. One weird creeper goes all the way up a tree trunk. But the heart shaped leaves, about the size of my palm, just look like they are glued flat to the trunk; they're really strange.

Of course we have mini waterfalls dripping down the rock cliffs (unless it rains hard, and then they're big), and itsy-bitsy springs the dogs like to drink from. I think you'd have to be a millionaire to have a yard like this anywhere in the US.

Once one of my gardeners raked up a brown hand blown glass bead that has a hand drilled hole through it. I wear it around my neck sometimes on a leather strap and think about who could have made it, or traded for it, and how wild and exotic this very spot must have been long ago.

It's still sort of wild.

When Steve walked up the hill behind our house a bit ago, the dogs chased jungle pigs who were playing in the mud. And our maintenance man tells me that it's a good thing my koi hides since civet cats that live in our jungle like to fish for them.

Eagles screech overhead every now and then too.

If it weren't for the sand fleas and the leeches, I would just live in our yard.
Cindy (End of email)

I really love nature. How could heaven be better; God doesn’t have to go to the trouble of making another place, this is good enough for me.

I'm glad school is out for awhile because I want to rest and just deal with the thoughts in my head before I take on any more. What I'm trying to do this week is talk to the Holy Spirit. I never did before; I talked to Jesus or the Father. Maybe the Holy Spirit was what talked back in whatever way the Spirit spoke, but I didn't think he was a real conversation partner.

I actually have an Orthodox prayerbook for Holy Communion and funeral services etc... and I have read some of it. Nothing much jumped out at me about the H. Spirit, but I will keep at it because it might take a while for something to jive. Sort of like, I had to do a walking meditation through a maze for a class once. I thought it sounded unhelpful. I didn't want to do it since it was a winter night and dark and cold. But an assignment was an assignment, so I did it, and I actually still remember some of the insights I recieved while walking in the maze, so it wasn't as pointless as it sounded.

It's only been a couple of days since Friday, and I hope the H. S. will reveal who he is to me... if he is a person or not. But so far when I pray, this is what I've seen: a beating heart, a pipeline and gravity. Gravity- he holds the souls together. Pipeline- he sends us what we need. Heart- you can live braindead, but not without a heart.

Right now, I have decided not to change my thinking about the H. S. unless the H. S. tells me to. Because, although I am (hopefully) flexible, there is a point at which you just say your religion is up for grabs to whoever is most convincing if you are too willing to change your mind. I don't think anyone wants me to change my mind; I don't feel that kind of pressure; I put that on myself because I don't want to be the lone oddball- I want to think what everybody else does. But only if I can with integrity.