Sparks of Joy

In minimalism, a classic phrase is "what sparks joy?" It is what determines what you keep, and what you leave behind. It classifies object into what you truly love, and what you think is simply clutter. For a girl who truly desires to be a minimalist, what holds her back is the emotional ties to objects and possessions.

Where I didn't think minimalist theory would apply would be in the big move I have made.

A little update...

On Monday, August 17th, my grandfather and I arrived at Columbia International University, and I was bouncing like a small little child on her first day at school. The total drive time was probably around nine hours, beginning at 4am in the morning. It was a very beautiful journey, with misty mountain tops in Virginia and incredible scenery all around us.

Around 7am, we took a small break, at which point my grandfather and I swapped seats: it was to be my first time driving on the right side of the road. One thing I forgot to pack: confidence.

Let's just say right side driving is interesting. The rule I don't think I will ever get used to is the "right turn on red". Yep, for those in Australia, without a green arrow, if there is no traffic coming from your left, you are allowed to turn right at an intersection with a red light.

For the hour or so, my only concern was right-side driving. Upon entry into a town for gas, a guy stuck behind the girl driving what he believed to be the suggested speed limit, decided he would honk his horn and flash his rude finger when passing. Obviously, I noticed it, but I had a more pressing issue: turning at an intersection onto a different side of the road. Perhaps my grandfather wasn't scared of my foreign driving, but he was happy to drive the rest of the way to school.

When we finally made it to Columbia - and I saw the sign for the college - I started to tear up, and released a little gasp of excitement. I was here after ten years, after pronouncing I was to attend the same college my parents went to. Upon arrival, I was not disappointed.

One lady, who I had only briefly spoken to once, exclaimed as soon as I entered the admissions office "Welcome Aynsley!" and I was overwhelmed by the friendliness of everyone here. I met my admissions counsellor, who I had been in consistent communication with. Funnily enough, because it was so hot outside, when the school nurse checked my temperature it showed me running a fever - two minutes later, she checked again, and I was normal. A little fear never hurt anyone.

Two girls here introduced me into my dorm, helping me to move my stuff in. Girls along the hall, most of them upperclassmen, all welcomed me into Petty Residence Hall and their kindness was astounding. I adore my RA, who has already assisted me in more ways than one - the most important obviously being her advice on plants in the dorm.

The past few days, I have met amazing people with amazing stories. Now being apart of the MuKappa group here on campus - a group that helps Third Culture and Missionary Kids transition back into American culture - I have met people from countries like Macedonia, Senegal, Albania, Austria, Haiti, Spain. In spite of our variance of culture, there is much we find connection over - and it really brings beauty to the meaning of Columbia INTERNATIONAL University.

But I pray I don't get comfortable. We have had four sessions over the past two days, which have helped us understand the struggle and loss of leaving people behind, and how to settle into a culture you already identified yourself with. But I know in order to transition swiftly, I need to take the time to make American friends.

The honest struggle

When you decide to leave a country, you are choosing to lose what matters most. In an effort to not express the same feelings I have in many of my blog articles, I will try to keep this brief. Minimalist theory does not apply to two countries you have always called home. Rather, where minimalism fails for most people is where I found its greatest truth in my life. My emotional ties to the place I always called home, made Australia difficult to give up.

But that's not to say that taking hold of this other part of my identity has not sparked joy. Choosing to move to a Bible college, to make friends with people who are from your country, enjoying the food, exploring the culture: all of this satisfies the desires of a perpetual wanderluster.

But as I have said in previous articles, I cannot call either of them my home. Neither can I call them my hope.

When I went through periods in Australia of feeling down, anxious, stressed, hurt, or harmed, my first port of call, my immediate refuge was my move to America. Perhaps that is startling for some of you back home. What startles me however is that it wasn't my hope in Jesus that brought me through.

The truth I must accept

1 Peter 1 says this in reference to "various trials"

"Though you have not seen him, you love him. Though you do not now see him, you believe in him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory, obtaining the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls." (1 Peter 1:8-9)

Peter is writing to exiles from many different lands. They are facing struggles, probably even cultural struggles. Persecution is probably their main trial, but as a TCK, I can understand if they were struggling with their identity. In verse 6, they were "grieved". One of the sessions we did for MuKappa really talked about the element of grief we will experience. And its okay to mourn. I don't think Peter was putting them down about it. In fact, he was celebrating their reaction, their response. They are actually rejoicing in the hope that their salvation brings.

I do not feel I compare in any such way. When studying the Bible, we must not exult the people, but our God. He is the one who has brought such rich growth amongst the exiles, he is the one who has allowed them to see their struggle and rejoice anyway.

In the midst of mourning loss and in the midst of joy in new experiences or new memories, I know that the range of my emotions must not distract me from my main purpose in life: glorifying God.

And if glorifying God is my main purpose, then I must prioritize him. And I must find a true and steady refuge in him. The exiles "rejoice with joy that is inexpressible" (vs.8) because they believe in him and understand that the "outcome of [their] faith [is] the salvation of [their] souls" (vs.9).

So what sparks true and lasting joy will never be a country, but the hope that the Lord Jesus offered when he saved me from my sins.

I pray that when I forget this truth that I will be reminded. I pray I might rejoice, as a TCK Christian, how great the God is who brought me on this journey. I pray I might find joy in the hope that he has given me. When I get out of the "honeymoon period" of college life, when I get back into studies, that the Lord will remind me each and every day what joy I can have in him.

So I ask the question, are you holding dear what sparks joy? More importantly, are you reaching for that which sparks true joy? I promise you, there is a difference.