Art:Worship

The other night I got to participate in a night of “Worship Through Art.” I am not the best artist. However, on the occasions that I can get past the narrative that “I can’t paint, or draw” I usually have a great time trying to create art. Add in the element of making it an act of worship – using my creativity to try to express my love of God – and it’s one of my favorite things.

So I showed up, sat down, prayed that I could worship through my art, and tried to get started. But, there were a lot of distractions. It was a conference that I was providing some counseling for, so I got asked a question or two, and a friend that I had made sat down next to me and started talking – not knowing that I’m more of a quiet, introspective artist.

But, I put the pastel to the paper and started going for it. For about 5 minutes I just went for it. And, let me tell you… Nothing! I had nothing. I was trying to hide my disappointment and was trying to figure out how to move seats without being rude, when the inspiration showed up.

6 years old, long blonde hair, and a spunky attitude. “What are you drawing?” The tone that was used was one of bewilderment. As any good counselor would do, I turned the question back around on my visitor, “What does this look like to you?” She studied it for a good long while and told me what she saw.

Then she told me how I could improve what I had drawn. “Maybe you could help me with it.” Those were the magic words – help me, she did. As her developing fine motor skills were whirling she walked me through all the finer points of who she was, where she lived, and how to correctly draw a palm tree.

“Are you mad that I’m helping you?” She asked after a couple minutes of completely changing the artistic direction of my worship.
“No! I asked for your help! And you’re doing a great job!”

She stopped drawing, checked my face for honesty, smiled to herself, and went back at it.

A few minutes later her mother called her away, so I thanked her for her help, and she was gone. For a few minutes I sat looking at the masterpiece that we had created and decided that it was done. My other friend was still talking so I found an appropriate moment to excuse myself and I got up and walked, by myself, down to the beach. I was bummed that I hadn’t had the chance to worship through art. I had enjoyed the interaction with my 6-year-old friend, but I had been hoping for some sort of breakthrough – or something.

Watching waves, listening to their comfort, has always been a favorite thing of mine. And as I got over my disappointment, as I started to relax, a new thought emerged.

Maybe letting that 6-year-old help me with my art was a way that I could worship. Maybe that is my art. 

Yeah, I think so.

Hong Kong 100k

100 kilometers and 20,000 feet of climbing up and then back down again. Sounds miserable. But, it’s in Hong Kong! And you get a free entry! Right. So, I ran up and down the mountains in Chiang Mai a lot, and then flew to Hong Kong. 

“I’m gonna come to Hong Kong for your race.” I thought my friend Tim, who lives in Wyoming, was joking, but he wasn’t. So, when I got in on Friday morning, there he was. I love seeing new places, and Tim and I get along really well, so it was really nice time together. We saw quite a lot, while also leaving plenty to go back and see “next time.” I appreciate Tim so much for coming out and helping with the race, but it was also just great to hang.

I started the race slowly and from the beginning I felt really good. I enjoyed the first 4 or 5 miles and once the crowd thinned out a little bit I decided to start working. I hit a low point around mile 29, but it only lasted for a mile or two. It was brought on by direct sunlight and having to use my hands (and knees) to get up one hill. Besides that everything worked like clockwork. Tim met me at 5 aid stations and gave me my tailwind and whatever else had my fancy at that time. 

The course was mostly either up or down. Not much flat. If it was going up, we were climbing up stairs made out of stones placed there by design (not God’s). If it was going down, we were descending stairs likewise made of uneven, not always steady, stone. I had practiced some on stairs, but not enough. The technique of stair climbing/descending is different than just running up or down a hill. The beating that the stairs hand your body is more dramatic than regular dirt trail. And, the concentration it takes to navigate the best path up or down a set of uneven stairs accumulates over time.

Besides the one blip I told you about earlier, I felt strong and smooth all the way until mile 48. I saw Tim at that aid station and told him I wasn’t feeling so hot. He used some psychologist’s trick and I left feeling buoyed. A couple miles later was when I saw a porcupine. Hong Kong has wild porcupines. Seriously. And they’re huge.

As mile 55 rolled around, my body, and my brain, decided they had done enough. And I stopped running. There isn’t a good way to explain this “Blowing up” other than to say – I just couldn’t. I tried every trick in the book. But my legs were beat up and my brain was tired. So, I ran a little, really really slowly, but mostly I just walked it in. “Keep moving forward…” I had hit nearly all of my time goals up to that last section. Then, I didn’t.

 I finished in 32^nd out of 465 finishers (622 starters) and in 16 hours and 15 minutes. This one will go in the books as the hardest course I’ve ever ran. I’ve done a lot of these races now and everyone is new and presents new challenges. This race was all about managing the stairs. I was happy with the finish. I was super impressed by the Hong Kong runners. And I was so grateful for Tim’s support and accompaniment.

I don’t think I walked away with any big life lessons. But, as with every race, it was hard, and it’s always nice knowing that you can do hard things.

Thank you for all of you that followed along throughout the day. We were required to carry a phone, so while I didn’t see most of your messages, I did feel the notification buzz, and that was always encouraging.

Heading Home

It’s been a good summer. A lot has happened. It’s been busy with work, studying, visiting people, and overall just enjoying being in Ohio. Ohio is such a great place to call home. I am proud to do so, and will probably always feel like it’s home.

But, now, it’s time to head home.

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That doesn’t quite make sense - the having two homes thing. But, it’s my life now - one of the job descriptions of being a missionary.

That seems strange too. The missionary part.

Life has a way of sneaking up and not being anything that you can quite put your hands on.

So, we lean into it, we fight against it, and if we’re lucky, we take naps so we can do it all over again.

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I’ve started packing.

I’m headed back to Thailand to resume my work as a counselor to missionaries. I’ll be doing most of the same things as I was when I was there previously - doing my best to provide hope and healing for missionaries, and their children, in Southeast Asia.

The last time that I packed for Thailand, I did so without ever having been to Thailand. I didn’t really know anyone there, and I only had guesses as to what my work would look like. I was so excited about all of the possibilities.

This time, as I’m packing, I’m doing so having spent the better part of a year in Thailand, I know a lot of great people, and I have a pretty good idea of what the job will look like.

And, I’m more excited this time around.

Several people have asked me, “When did you know that you wanted to go back?” I have a vivid memory. There was a day, in a staff meeting where a particular item was being discussed, that I felt needed. And I felt wanted. I hope that doesn’t sound arrogant. It just felt like I was in the right place, and those around me felt the same way. That’s when I knew that I wanted to be in Thailand, in Chiang Mai, and at Cornerstone.

So, here we go!

P.S. All of the counselors at Cornerstone, myself included, raise their own financial support. I am still looking for some friends who would be interested in helping me to finish off raising my support. If you are interested in coming alongside of me and my work you can follow this link to do so: https://paraclete.net/people/paraclete-associates/david-emch/

Everything

Everything, it seems,

is like every other beautiful thing.

Though there are some mysteries

unlike any other mystery.

And in each one of these

individual beauties

Your essence is the common

element - making each one

both unique and akin.

Running is like life, and life is like a box of chocolates. Missing home is like missing being gone, and missing you is like a forgotten simile. So often we can only describe things by using other things as a point of reference. 

Heart - too big

Oh my heart, my heart

It’s too big

For its still drawn to shiny things

and deep eyes.

Distracted by the temporary

and the partial.

Clinging to the hopes stored

in jars made by other men

Cut away that extra

So I can love

You.

The Lord your God will circumcise your heart and the hearts of your children, SO that you may love him with all of heart and with all your soul, and live. Deut 30:6

8 years

It was a big duplex house - we had the downstairs.

Through the glass doors, that let in all of the heat, (or all of the cold) was the sunroom. It became my office - my classroom. Through that door, and to the left, was my desk. Covered with papers and books and highlighters, there was just enough room for my laptop and a mug of coffee.

In the fall of 2010, I logged on to the school’s website and started to finish my undergrad. During the winter, hunched over the heater, listening to a lecture, I would sit out in that room and dream of my career to come. During the summer, sweating without an A/C, I would write research papers mostly concerning children that I hoped I would have the chance to work with. 

We moved from that house. Then I finished undergrad and started grad school. Then we moved again. Then we became I. I took a break from classes. Then I went back at it. And then, a couple of evenings ago I got an email:

 I knew it was coming. May 19^th was a while ago. But still.

Almost 8 years after I went back to finish my undergrad, and almost 6 years after I started grad school, I’ve finished.

And it feels really good. It took way too long - a ridiculous amount of time. But, also just long enough.

I think back to the person I was in 2010 and I am glad that it took me so long. I wouldn’t have had much of a chance of being a good counselor if I hadn’t lived through both the difficulties and joys of those 8 years. So, I can only be grateful.

And excited for what’s next. 

Head down, heart up, hands out. Here we go!

Bark Mulch

I’m sitting at Starbucks. I was given a gift card and I’m enjoying an Italian roast. Just outside the window of the chair that I’m sitting in is a flower bed. In that flower bed is mulch – bark mulch.

I started thinking about the owner of the bark mulch place, and how excited he was to receive word that the St. Petersburg Starbucks wanted his mulch for all of their stores. And maybe when he got into the bark mulch business all of his friends and family thought that he was ridiculous. But, he stuck to his dream of having the best barkmulch in the bay area, and here he is, just seven short years later – the barkmulch king of St. Petersburg, Tampa, and maybe all of Florida. “That risotto you’re eating?” he says to his children, “That risotto is barkmulchrisotto.” And even though it’s a lemon spinach risotto, and not barkmulchrisotto, they understand that everything they have in life is due to their dad’s persistence that barkmulch was profitable. And it’s true.

And I so often forget that life isn’t about mulch, barkmulch or any other variety, but life is always about the mulch.