Blog 1: Before this (Isaiah)

I think it's crazy that I'm even here. Not just physically, but spiritually here.

I kept thinking about this when I was riding in the train. I have the farthest commute out of all my fellow interns, it's either 40 minutes to an hour by train -> bus -> walk, or a 25 minute Uber. I also made the terrible mistake of forgetting my earbuds at home, so morning/afternoon plans consist of staring out the window and do some personal reflection. This is my second week here at DC. How is my family? My friends? Will I make it in time for that concert back home? When will my husband return from war?

Now, I’ve been thrust in an environment of different cultures, living in a new neighborhood, answering emails in my newly found adult format. I’m thousands of miles away from home in Seattle, working in an organization I've never heard of until two months ago.

I'm in shock at myself for leaping in this faith-focused opportunity because I really didn't like church. Not the beliefs of the church, but I would think of it more as the routine of church. And I'm not sure that much has changed, you know? I knew I wasn't going to listen to the sermon anyway. The coffee would suck. You weren't going to remember my small talk from last week. I'd have to tell Nancy what school I'm going to again. What would I daydream about this time? It was the same monotonous schedule every week, like clockwork. I felt like I heard it all, seen it all. Been there for every type of testimony.

At least that's how it felt when I was finally an adult. My dislike for that routine carried over into my opinions of church as a whole. Before that, my youth group was more of that hangout place rather than a "spiritual finding". It was more of a social thing that made me go. It was never about Jesus or mission. There was never any purpose or outside-the-box thinking. It was more of...

"Who's going? How many people? Is he/she going too?"

All my life, I feel like I've lived a spiritual life that was just comfortable, you know? I mean, I feel I was just content with myself from hearing from others that I was doing good in the world. And the more I fed off that egotistic charity mindset, the more I closed my heart to the ones really in need. Looking back, I never went out of my way, or my own volition to do anything. I just did what was expected, or what people told me to do. Mission trips were sheltered and fenced. There was never a Why. The What/Who/Where would always take priority. Church wasn't ever something I took seriously; and to be honest, I thought it would be something I would grow out of. You know that phase in middle/high school when you had to learn an instrument, knowing full well that you were just going to forget it everything about it later in life? Church felt like that.

It felt funny. In my "church resume", I feel I'm qualified. I've been a part of Annual Conference for many years. I have many years of leadership experience with Christian camps, both in and out of state. I've done all of these community service projects, both as a participant and as a leader. I worked customer service in retail! And most importantly, I can carry SIX of the church chairs in one go. Because of my family background, I've been blessed with access to the connections and references I need to go almost anywhere I need to. People would expect me to enter some sort of ministry, or continue to play that large part in participating and leading events. But what you would see on paper was definitely not how I felt in my heart. It was empty.

As graduation looms closer for me, I began to reflect on how the future would look for me. I want to define my "why" and not settle for "what". 

Regardless of the monotony of church comfort, there’s something in me that's telling me that's still calling me to a higher purpose. And I feel that this calling is through service, justice, and activism. I believe in the heart, soul, and mission of the United Methodist Church. But the biggest issue for me is whether in moments of crisis and injustice, will I have the conviction in myself to stand up for what I believe in, or will I just opt in to stay in my comfort zone and remain a witness?  

When people would ask about my summer plans and I'd tell them I would be doing this internship, people would always say,

"Are you excited?"

To which I always say...

"Yes I am!"

But I'm not.

I'm scared.

Isaiah (Interfaith Council of Metropolitan Washington)