The Land of Living Stones

As I sat by the computer where I work most days, I had a sudden thought. This beautiful lime green scarf that my colleague just gave me to wear (later to keep!) had a certain, perhaps even pleasant, contrast with the fitted Old Navy top that my little sister gave me (or I stole) once upon a time. The shirt was hot pink. To my credit, perhaps more of a magenta hue. In any case, I was stunned at this moment to recall that I have a deep, deep grudge against the combination of hot pink and lime green and that I swore back in high school never to be seen in the company of this chromatic duo. In fact, I always regarded the preppy wearers of hot pink and lime green as substantially inferior to myself and often my mortal enemies.

I doubt that I will ever repeat the unforgiveably preppy matching of lime green and hot pink–this is the first time that I’ve owned clothing in both colors I believe. My archenemies at Towson High with their peppy school spirit attempted to make the combination our Class Colors–for prom decor, God forbid! But this jaunt down memory lane reminded me of just how far I’ve come since those days of high school. It’s been probably eight years since my passionate hate for hot pink and lime green hit its zenith and it will be our five year reunion this year (not so special with the advent of Facebook where I can stalk those former jocks, babes, nerds, and artsy types any time of day.)

In 2002, I did not know what Palestine was, though I always had a dream of visiting Israel. I did not know what an Anabaptist was, nor did I think that patriotism, nationalism, and war-mongering were at all disparate from a good Christian life–I’d never contemplated the Kingdom of God or wondered how sharing in community might be more the pattern of early Christians or just a more satisfying lifestyle. In 2002, I didn’t know what Messiah College was, nor did I ever consider going to a Christian institution for my Bachelors’ degree. The Middle East was not on my map–except as a place from whence came terrorists like the September 11th attackers. I didn’t have any interest in the politics of the region, skipping the boring articles that often featured in the daily newspaper I read religiously (yes, in high school!).

I’m not certain what all was up there in my mind…I often seemed to be judging people on the basis of dogmatic principles of right and wrong–wondering whether people with various sins could be redeemed, fixed. In 2000 I started to go to a youth group full of peers, my friends who I loved so much and we all listened to the same music, Christian music. At school I had a diverse crop of friends who were called “the Hill people” because of the hill that we loitered on after class everyday. We talked about some current events but mostly the politics of Towson High, the craziness of college-prep classes, and the movies coming out over the weekend.

I was not very interested in Spanish and figured I wouldn’t need to take a language in college, or maybe a semester’s worth. I knew I was not great at learning language and I never thought I’d want to work overseas. Mission work was admirable to me but I surely wasn’t cut out to be a missionary (and what else does one do abroad?). I always thought of myself as a bit on the poor and piteable side because I never could afford to buy nice name brand clothes and my neighbors were quite well off.

Obviously my perspectives have changed, even shifted 180 degrees in some cases. I am completely sure that I will never be sure about anything again. My theological ideas were so moved that I have no way to understand what I understood as truth before. My political leanings have had several phases and now I don’t even think that the political arena is where my calling is. My personal relationships, even with my friends from high school, seem far less superficial and more meaningful as I gain more life-experience. As for where I’ve gone in the meantime, a small Christian college in PA, a semester in Lithuania, and a year in Palestine where I am now so attached I can’t bear to think about how I must leave in 5 months.

When and if I show up at that reunion (not wearing hot pink or lime green) I think I’ll have to have several hours just to explain what has happened in five years! Now I’m wondering, where will I be in five years from now?? I can’t even begin to imagine 2014.