So you want to go to law school

The obvious question is, why? You will have to answer this question and thousand and one times, so you would be well-advised to craft a solid go-to answer that is true-ish. Then you'll have the rest of your law school journey to hone and workshop your answer through admissions essays, interviews, and networking events. But you have to have something solid to work with.

Pro tip: "I like to argue" is a terrible reason. The money used to be a good reason, but with wages falling as the legal labor sector becomes more automated and dense, makes financial incentives illusory these days. The nice answer for millennials, we who are so social welfare minded, is "I want to help people", but you might find the idealism and naivete latent in that justification a smidge cringe-worthy for your taste. The best answer is always a story. One time I got stopped at the border trying to leave Kazakhstan for Turkey because I mistakenly overstayed my visa, and my brush with the migration police in a foreign country gave me a depth of gratitude to immigration attorneys that was enough of a wellspring to get me through.

That's not the real reason I went to law school, but it's a fun story for me to tell and it opens the door for me to talk about one of the more interesting periods of my life. Birds, stone.

The thing about the decision to go to law school is that if you don't already have exposure to or experience in the field, it's hard to know what's out there, to say nothing of determining whether you have both the skills and inclination to make it worth it for you. That was my biggest fear about starting law school, that I was going to be bad at it and that it was going to be boring. While the jury's still out on the former, it was to my delight in that very first civ pro class that I was going to have a grand time learning the law. 

So this is what I recommend, if you can pull up a statute on a law you've heard of, and read it, and then find a state supreme court opinion applying that statute, and you find yourself enjoying the puzzle of figuring out how the statute and the opinion fit together, then all other considerations aside, you will probably enjoy law school coursework. (A difficult but maybe compelling example might be the Ohio marriage statute, linked here, and the SCOTUS decision in Obergefell v. Hodges, linked here.) 

You don't have to enjoy the law to feel justified in your decision to go to law school, but if you're going to suffer through to get the piece of paper, you better have 100% assurance of a job at the end. It's all just a carrot on a stick. 

There is also the financial consideration. The student debt situation is ludicrous. It's terrifying, hinging on absurd. I'm a little sanctimonious about this topic, so I'll spare you a lecture and just say that my path worked great for me and it's a path that you might want to look into for yourself. A 3.9 undergrad GPA and a 154 LSAT score got me a full ride at Michigan State, Penn State, and my alma mater. Not T2 schools, but being hard working is more important than the reputation of your school. Who's to say how the market will change, but this was a pro tip from family friends who sent most of their kids to college on a variety of full ride scholarships: don't pay for school if you can avoid it. On the other hand, if you're loaded and can pay your tuition out of pocket, definitely shoot for the stars. Harvard may be a diploma mill, but it still makes doors fly open, which is probably enough to justify the price tag if you are heart eyes for the law.

I don't have any other advice about choosing a school. But there are loads of internet forums with heaps of opinions to fill that void.

My last recommendation is to take a beat before starting law school. People who go straight to law school from undergrad may "maintain momentum", but they are also more likely to be burned out or lack workforce experience that imparts valuable perspective to the law school experience. I knew I wanted to go to law school since I was a senior in high school, but I still took some time in between to work as an ESL teacher. Working cross-culturally gave me skills and contacts that I drew from frequently in my immigration law work. I also go to check some life experiences off that I didn't have time to tackle while I was in law school. I was only out of school for a year, but I missed studying so much during that time that I was actually looking forward to going back to an academic setting by the time I matriculated. You can also use that time to get more financially stable.

(A casual suggestion that I have no personal experience with, but have seen many of my friends try: get an entry-level paralegal position after undergrad, make yourself invaluable to your firm, and then get your firm to either send you to law school or promise you an associate position when you graduate. The practice of law is apprenticeship and firms would much rather hire someone who already knows what they do than train an outsider. Find your job offer before you even start law school. This path is very common, and IMHO, very smart.) 

So you've got your motivation sorted, you've taken the LSAT, you've applied and matriculated, and now law school is foisted upon you. I have some various and sundry advice for you regarding the law school process.

• Skip journal. Whoa, whoa, whoa, what??? Let me get the exceptions out of the way: people who are destined for editor in chief of the law review, people who want to clerk for federal judges after law school, and people who legitimately enjoy legal writing. Those people should join a journal, preferable law review, but a journal in your concentration is also acceptable. (If you are not interested and will never be interested in the subject matter of your journal, skip it.) Journal is difficult, boring, time-consuming, and stressful. Employers are not as impressed with journal participation as they used to me. Journals are high cost, low reward.

• Get a legal job ASAP. This is two-pronged advice. First, all legal experience is going to do you a solid, therefore, the more of it you have, they better prepared you are to be good at your craft. Law is apprenticeship. Get in the trenches early. Second, there are only two summers. 2L summer associates are critical for people looking to go the big law route. That leaves you with only four semesters and one summer to diversify your experience and figure out what options you have for after law school. The sooner you can get started on that process, the better. And it is totally possible to balance 1L coursework with part-time employment. Just work hard. It's what you'll be doing as a lawyer anyway.

• Find two attorney mentors. Mine ended up being my supervising attorneys for my two student practitioner gigs during 3L. I wouldn't recommend waiting that long, it caused me a lot of stress, but both individuals have become valued friends in my life, so take comfort that things can work out. Practical steps to get an attorney to adopt you: go to professor office hours, take a research position, and ask about opportunities and current events in their specialty. Pick people who have margin in their lives--the faculty "rock stars" of your school, though definitely well-connected, will probably already have a full plate between research, writing, advising, teaching, and school politics, and while they might take an interest in you, they probably also won't have the time to meet with you regularly. In contrast, adjuncts, new attorneys, or people on the "fringe" of the faculty or the firm you're working at will have more space to give you attention and will be flattered that you're seeking their advice and support. My school did not have an alumni mentorship program, but if yours does, jump on that. 

• Do moot court. If you must participate in some extracurricular school activities, skip the clubs (but get on their mailing lists--job opportunities in your inbox and advance notice of where free food will be) and student government, and compete in legal simulations. It's the next best thing to employment experience.

• Talk in class. If you think this advice will be easy for you, ignore it and do the opposite. (Everyone hates those people who waste class time asking useless and obscure hypos.) But if you are not naturally inclined to speak up in class, push yourself to. You will sound dumb and people will think you're dumb, but you'll learn the material well and you'll remember the material. If you're academically gifted enough to be considering law school, you already know how you best learn. Leverage class time to maximize your content retention. Another perk, talking also makes boring classes go by faster.

• Talk to your classmates. My biggest regret from law school is not making more friends. Law school is that much easier when you have people to share notes, collaborate on outlines, laugh with, commiserate with, and all around related to. I avoided people at law school because I didn't want to catch their anxiety or lose perspective. In the process I missed out laying the groundwork for my professional network and I was a little bit lonely and miserable. There are plenty of loners at law school, and the law school social scene is definitely a minefield of judgment, but do your best to rest in the balance.

• You don't have to outline. I outlined only one class in my entire time at law school and I did fine. Make of that what you will. See, I know how I learn and it's not via outlines. You know how you learn. Don't force yourself to make flashcards or study groups if it's not going to help you just because everyone else is doing it and they're judging you. 

• Start studying for the bar early. Don't take froufy classes, take the subjects that will definitely be on the bar, since many schools make some of these courses optional. (I made it through law school without taking commercial paper or wills & estates. Studying those topics for the bar had me stressed out of my mind.) Learn the doctrinal law well the first time around, and start doing MBE question practice sets during 2L. Set aside two hours every Saturday of 3L to review bar resources. Bar prep is literally memorizing three 900-page paperback outline books, which is literally impossible to do in the two months between graduation and the bar. Chip away at it earlier so that you can have a little fun with your summer.

Above all, remember that if you are discerning, diligent, and dedicated, you will find the path that works for you. I truly feel like my path to and through law school was the path that was best for me, and I offer my experiences as a template for those seeking some guidance to get them started on a sensible path. However, I was struck at graduation by just how many of my classmates had taken paths that I had previously considered ill-advised but were nevertheless stepping out of law school into viable careers or receiving valuable accolades for their contributions to the legal community. That was a humbling and encouraging realization. My way is one way, but it's not the only way. My way was best for me, but it's not best for everyone. And it's not productive to stress about incongruence between your choices and the choices of others--don't be reckless, but don't be despondent. 

And best of luck. :)

Takeoffs & Landings

I really loved my former apartment. It was just one stop from downtown, with the most amazing view of the skyline from across the small stretch of water. There was the new Jeffries Point Park and also Dough, La Sultana, and La Hacienda all within walking distance. But I kind of love my new apartment, too. It's across the street from a small beach that overlooks part of the airport, and I've spent a few afternoons sitting on the sand watching planes taxi down the runway and lift into the air. 

Which of course makes me think about life.

I'm a little scared. I'm scared of my schedule, which is packed to burst with school and work and extracurriculars. I'm scared of not delivering quality product to teachers and students. I'm scared of watering unhealthy habits and of growing further away from my God instead of becoming grounded in Him. Last fall was difficult. Is this fall going to be even hard? Each new thing is a takeoff. Each success is a landing.

Life is a series of these, takeoffs and landings. Most lives are a grueling marriage to a proverbial suitcase, moving from one flight to another to another, endlessly. That makes me feel tired. I watch the flight attendants who get on the train at the airport stop, with the little rolly suitcases, headed home after a few days on. (The whole top floor of our building is flight attendants.) I think about what a hard job they have.

My co-teacher told me today one of our students left his country because his parents were shot. I have a student whose parents sent him to the USA to study English to protect him from gang recruitment. I have a handful of students from Libya who are in the US biding their time for stability to come to their country so they can return. My students remind me that even the rich and the privileged experience heartache and tragedy. Because life has turbulence. 

I watch the takeoffs and landings and think of all the people sitting in chairs encased by a hunk of metal, and suddenly they are moving through the sky. It's amazing. Life is a gift. 

It's okay to celebrate

Here is my confession: I waited with taunt anticipation for SCOTUS to release their opinions this morning, and when they announced that they were granting same sex marriage in all 50 states I wanted to CHEER! But I didn't, even though I was in the basement of a building housing a predominantly liberal office with only one other person who probably also felt like cheering. But I didn't cheer, and this is why.

I thought:

1. Is it okay that I'm happy about this?
2. Is my happiness about this incongruent with my faith?
3. WWJD . . .
4. Can't tweet about it either because my tweets go straight to my dad's phone.
5. I mean, my dad's a good man and he loves me, but he might think I've had a little too much of the liberalist Kool-Aide.
6. People are going to think I don't care what the Bible says.
7. Or they're going to think I'm just making things up.
8. Or they're going to think my brain is full of heresy.
9. Oh man, this is the normalization of evil, Satan wants me to cheer for marriage equality like he wants me to smile at the "Say Anything" sex scene or shrug off hooker jokes.
10. I'm probably wrong about everything.

But I couldn't stop thinking about it all day. Today felt special, historic. I read article after article, reactions from every faith blogger or journalist who has credibility with me, trying to find some explanation for or dissection of what I was thinking. My sister said that how the church responds today is really important. So I decided it was okay to celebrate.

WHY IT'S OKAY TO CELEBRATE:

1. Equal Protection

The Bible doesn't require you be a fan of the Constitution, so that's fine. If you're against the 14th Amendment, this idea won't matter to you. But for those of you who appreciate our structure of government as one that's better than most, this decision strengthened one of the greatest doctrines of our government. The law of our land says you can't treat one group of people differently than another. The equal protection clause assures fair treatment even when a huge portion of the nation stands against you. Sure, for the "moral majority" it's concerning to have your power circumvented, to have the court muzzle democracy. And yet, where the Athenian democracy went belly up the USA (struggles to do) does good. I'm thankful for a government that bats for the little guy, because it feels like that doesn't happen too often. That fairness is worth celebrating.

(Really. This does not affect us.) (Though if and when it does, I have something to say about that, too. Dig deep and stand with the persecuted church around the world.)

2. A Step Against Bigotry

It's one thing for us as believers to say we love gay people. I think we say it with good intentions, but also with naivete. There are people who have lost their jobs for the sole reason that they're gay. There are kids who have taken their own lives because they couldn't cope with social attitudes regarding same sex attraction. There are people who get mistreated and cussed out and called rude names because their haircuts were "too butch" or their nails were "too effeminate." We believers would call that wrong, but what do we do to change the cultural tide to treat people with respect? As same sex marriage brings about the normalization of gay relationships, I feel hopeful that this mistreatment will ebb. And I think it's okay to be excited for a cultural shift that will mean better treatment for a whole group of people.

3. A Refocus

There seems to be a tendency among believers to spend a lot of energy decrying the evil of sodomy*, presumably because the culture at large says the opposite. The culture at large actually says the opposite of believers a good portion of the time, because as Paul said, "When you were slaves to sin, you were free from the control of righteousness." The culture is going to be opposite us all the time, almost always. I'm not sure it matters all that much. Now that this issue is settled, maybe the faith community can refocus on the actual priority: preaching Jesus as the answer. I'M NOT SAYING SIN IS IRRELEVANT. But maybe now it will be easier for the church to treat sin like sin, instead of regular sin versus sin that is ALSO a hot button political issue. Because it's not about the politics, family, we know it's not. It's about Jesus and knowing Him better and knowing His love and showing His love to others.

As I believer, I think fairness, better treatment, and a clarified message are all things that are worth celebrating. Even when those things carry the baggage of normalizing sin.

I welcome the thoughts of believers who see where I'm coming from on this; I would like to know what you think about celebrating marriage equality within the contexts of the faith. To be honest, I'm not interested in hearing about the social ills of same sex marriage nor do I want to entertain any hand-wringing about the erosion of religious freedom. You may count my frankness about this intellectual dishonesty--it is, you're right--but I'm just looking for edification, not to change my mind.

Can believers celebrate today while still maintaining that sodomy* is a sin? Are the two mutually exclusive?



*I'm sorry to offend by using the term sodomy to mean any girl/girl or guy/guy sexual activity. It's an ugly word and I don't like saying it and I'm not even using it correctly, but I use the term to emphasize that the sin the Bible talks about is not "being gay" or experiencing same sex attraction but rather sexual activity with a person of the same gender. 

1L: lessons learned

My first year of law school, wow, it's over. It's amazing to me how swiftly this time flew by, especially compared to last year, but it's disheartening when I remember I still have two years to go before I can get in the trenches with clients. I love school, school is great, but it's intriguing to feel a new pull on my heart, a desire to do something other than sit in a classroom.

As with any academic endeavor, the whole point is learn stuff. And I've learned a lot about the law and our judicial system and how exactly the USA has gotten to where it is today, but I've also learned some personal things. I have made note of them here, in hopes that my own lessons may serve as perspective for you in learning yours.

• I learned that I don't adjust to new things as well as I thought I did. Adjustment takes time. Maybe more time for me than the average person. But it is what it is. Being depressed that I require time to settle into things does not make time tick by faster. 

• You have to be okay with sounding like an idiot when you talk in class. And so what if everyone thinks you're an idiot? I am constantly being surprised by classmates I thought had empty heads but are actual leagues smarter than me. So either I am actually an idiot, or sooner or later people will figure out I'm not the airhead I seem to be. 

• And to dovetail with that, there is nothing wrong with being an idiot! So you're not smart, fine. Being smart does not make you a better person. Being uneducated or even being ignorant doesn't mean you have committed a moral wrong that you deserve to be punished for. There is an aura of intellectual elitism that pervades Boston, because to be fair, education is a huge industry here! But there's an unspoken assumption that education makes people better people. I have a coworker or two who openly mock rednecks and think that the southern accent is uneducated. To be honest, I used to be that person. I'm trying not to be anymore. 

• I usually think of my year in Kazakhstan as ruining me; when I came back to the USA I was a basket case and this year being back has been THE HARDEST year of my life so far. But I don't give KZ enough credit for preparing me for life in Boston. In KZ I learned how to cook, go food shopping, take care of a leaking sink, teach English, live with another person, survive the cold and snow. All those things have benefited me enormously this past year. 

• ATFQ. Or if you don't know the answer, don't say anything. Word vomiting all the information you know is not what gets you a good grade. Answering the question does. Because that's what lawyers do. And even though the answer is usually "it depends", that's what keeps you in bread and butter. This has become my new life philosophy. 

• There are a lot of political philosophies out there, all of which spitball about the best way to structure a government. And I used to be a big proponent of limited government, balancing federal power with state power and limiting judicial review (or, I think we called it, judicial activism.) I joke that I'm a liberal now, but what it really mean is, I'm less worried about our nation going to crap. It's not the structure of our government that keeps us from turning into whatever country is spinning a global cautionary tale, it's the daily actions of the people who govern us. That's why voting's important, y'all. (I'm glad there are people who care about politics. I want them to keep caring. I want liberals and conservatives to keep fighting, because between the two extremes reality eventually falls in the middle.)

• If you're sick, rest. It was Wednesday and I felt like a raisin stuck to the bottom of a boot that kept slapping the pavement. It was bleh. Thursday I climbed into bed and when I crawled out Monday morning I was healed. It was like magic. I never tried the whole resting thing cos I just didn't think it worked. Why rest when Theraflu and Dayquil exist? Rest because it works!

• It's okay to need people. I am possibly allergic to asking people to do things for me. I can't cope with the feeling that I am inconveniencing someone by asking them to do me a favor. I feel icky that I'm somehow "using" others for my own personal gain. And yet, life is easier when you have people's help. The heart of the difference here is humility. I don't need people as pawns to reach my life's endgame. I need people because I flounder on my own, and sometimes those people are my endgame. I can't say I'm comfortable with this entirely, but I realize I need to get comfortable with it, which is a sizeable step for me.

• Build community where you can. Without this it's really hard to flourish; the loneliness of this phase of life is robust. Still, I am realizing that despite my myriad character flaws, insecurities, and lack of social graces, I can still make community by being open to the people around me and initiating. Don't underestimate yourself. You can't force a life-giving community to flourish, but you can help construct little safe havens along the way.

I made a lot of mistakes this past year:

I didn't get plugged in with a spiritual community.
I didn't get involved with any school activities.
I didn't befriend any of my classmates.
I didn't handle my first ever relationship right.
I didn't go to my professor's office hours. (This still shocks me, because that was my hallowed MO in undergrad.)
I didn't send thank you notes after any interviews.
I ate too many peanut butter M&Ms!

But it all worked out because God is good. And that's it. I'm not good. But God is good. And grace means He gives me things I don't deserve, even when I muck it all up. That's hard for me to swallow. That doesn't seem fair, in fact, it isn't fair. But it's not about me, it's about a God whose goodness needs to be known and recognized by all. So all I can do is testify. I survived 1L. My God is good.

Redeeming the time

I don't know how I feel about deviation from routine. Despite running on four hour's sleep, I was excited to brave the messy roads with my dad this morning. There's something exciting about being outside when everyone else is inside. It's the only thing I like about being up early. I was not excited, however, waiting on the chilly platform for my train to pull in. And I was not excited trudging the four blocks to my flat with snow in my eyes. I was not excited as I surveyed my already tidy room and wondered what on earth I was going to do today. Snow days, man.

Why do we do what we do? Maybe because we enjoy it, but not everyone is so lucky. I enjoy my work, but more in a this-is-a-pleasant-way-to-spend-my-days kind of way. Few are the tasks that are a motivation unto themselves. We do what we do, I think, because of the prize promised at the end, because of the transcendent worthiness of it. My work is meaningful to me, and that matters more to me than the thrill of diagramming sentences. The mechanics are not glamorous. The ideas that inspire the mechanics are. 

The announcers said of Julian Edelman last night how much they respect him as a player not just because he gets open, makes the catches, works the openings. They said he shows up at 5am and studies the plays and catches balls and works hard. Something about that stray comment clicked for me. Edelman is a superstar, for sure. But it sounds like he's respected more for his hustle than for his talent. 

Hustling isn't exciting. I'm watching all of these people head to work in the snow. I'm congratulating myself for being a commuter at large when both my work and school are canceled, but here are these people, headed to work with no fanfare. Business as usual. Braving the elements doesn't make you a hero. You're just going to work, like you're supposed to. 

And now this deviation from routine. I don't know how to feel about these deviations because I never know what to do with them. I'm terrible at redeeming unexpected downtime. But I'm alive, I'm awake. The snow has separated me from my casebooks and the papers I need to grade, but surely there's other work to be done. I'm rested, and it's time to work, like I'm supposed to.

#doyourjob

#BlackLivesMatter, Part II

As I grow older, I become certain of one thing. It's a dumb idea to post controversial things on Facebook. Which is unfortunate, because if you know me you know I get a kick out of lighting fires and discussing controversial topics. And I guess it's amusing to me because I'm usually not personally invested. I try to avoid speaking about issues important to me unless I'm with like-minded people, because I'm not so good at staying calm when it comes to issues that have captured my heart. 

As a person who is working towards a career in the legal system, and a person who is here out of a conviction that the way immigrants are being represented in our system and in our country is unjust, my heart is already heavy over the ways the legal system is failing the poor, marginalized, and oppressed. But the events of the past few weeks, filtered through the lens of my ongoing legal training, have wrecked the dam of passivity in me.

We spoke in my criminal law class about imprisonment rates in the United States, and in particular the disproportionate representation of minority males in the system. Incarceration of black males has increased 500% since the early 90s, and 1 in 5 black males will spend time in prison in their lifetime. Serving prison time is a higher statistical likelihood for a black male than going to college is. And my classmates recited these facts pulled from our readings with grim looks on their faces, and many expressed hopelessness that they could do anything to change a problem that was inherently systemic.

So it was fitting that as I walked out of my school this evening I walked right into a protest. I've never been to a protest before, like, not a real protest, so curiosity pulled me into the fray, where I stood on the sidelines and took photos along with the other bystanders who had originally wandered onto the Commons for the tree lighting. I called Hannah and told her of the nagging hypocrisy I felt. "Ideologically, I stand with these people, I support them and endorse what they're doing, but I don't want to join them. Is that wrong?" I watched the tree lighting and walked to the train, satisfied that I had witnessed a piece of history unfolding tonight.

But I had a realization.

There is no room for silence here. There is no room for quiet endorsement. There can be no passivity because this is not a small, negotiable issue. This is not right. 

Luckily I was right there in the middle of an ongoing protest, so it was easy to put my feet where my mind way. And being there, shifting from observer to participant, marching and standing in solidarity with the people willing to shine the light on social injustice, it felt empowering. Class warfare and police brutality and racism are all huge issues, issues that stem directly from the sin that infects this world. Issues that can only be healed by Jesus. But I can be part of His ministry of reconciliation. I can stand with them. I can walk with them and assert that there is injustice and it is real and it is not okay. I can assert that publicly, and boldly, and that's doing something.

I have been embarrassed, embarrassed of my previous blindness, obliviousness, and indifference, embarrassed because of my white privilege, for who am I to speak out against something I know so little about? It's controversial and I don't want to say anything, don't want to make myself a target, don't want to be misunderstood. But if I don't say anything, in my silence I am no so different from an oppressor. If I really believe there is racial discrimination in my country's legal system, and I really believe that's wrong, then I have to say so. I have to.

I have a duty to speak for those who are not being heard. 

This is what the Lord requires. To walk humbly, to love mercy, to do justice. 

This ain't no sham, I am what I am

One phone call. If I had know that was all it would take I would have done it weeks ago.

I have been struggling. The tough, independent person I want to be is nowhere to be found. Little things are getting me down. I tried talking about it, or talking around it, I cried in UBurger, I cried every night in my room, but none of that helped. I wondered who this stranger was who had taken over my body.

But someone understands!

Solidarity is such a gift.

It's okay to struggle.

Law school is hard. Moving to a new city is hard. Missing Karaganda is hard. All of the new stuff in my life is hard. I'm not adapting well. I'm struggling to find peace in routine, and I'm not doing the greatest job following Jesus and caring about people right now.

But it's going to be okay.

Lilly understands.

Jesus understands.

All will be well, and all manner of things will be well.

But a sojourner

I've been a law student for a week now, so I know just enough law to start obnoxiously analyzing the law's application to my personal life. One question that's been keeping me up most nights is the haunting inquiry of my domicile. Am I domiciled here? In Rhode Island? In Kazakhstan?

What I gather from the Gordon case is that in order to change one's domicile one must be 1) physically present in that place, and 2) intending to stay in that place indefinitely. Given that Gordon  was currently present in Idaho and had no immediate plans to leave, it was ruled that she could be considered a citizen of Idaho.

If you can't prove you're a domiciliary in the place where you currently are, your domicile is the last place you did satisfy conditions for domiciliary, even if you're not living there anymore. 

So what about me? I am currently present in Massachusetts the majority of the time. I have an apartment here. I work here. (So I have MA tax withheld from my paycheck!) I go to school here. But most of my belongings are at my parents' home in RI. My doctors are in RI. My church is in RI. My physical presence seems somewhat split between the two states. Hm.

And then there's the issue of intent to stay in definitely. I will definitely be staying here for the next three years, all year round. But after graduation, who's to say what will happen! It is my hope that I will stay "in the area," but as to whether that constitutes Rhode Island or Boston remains to be seen. I'd be happy with either. Further, I'm conscious of the reality that the future is indeterminable, and faith may draw me back abroad or to the most unexpected of places state-side.So would it really be accurate to say I plan to stay in Massachusetts indefinitely? I may stay, but then, I may not.

Mostly this just makes me feel very insecure and out of control of my future. When I was in Karaganda, anything was fair game. Even before I left Pasadena I was considering the possibility of staying in KZ for an additional year, with the potential for staying maybe longer, if the Spirit led, as they say. Would KZ count as my last domicile, given that I was physically present (no trips home!) and was intending to stay indefinitely, up until my decision to attend law school? The law deals mostly with intent, but the issue here is that, by grace, my intent is not bent towards staying or going, but rather towards following. My intent is definite devotion. Anywhere I domicile, I am but a sojourner.

An (amusing?) addendum:

The class wherein this issue was discussed left me in stitches due to an interesting lexical choice made by our professor and followed by the students, which revealed their unfamiliarity with missiological terminology. The appellate from our case was a Mormon, and considering embarking on some cross-cultural faith work upon graduation. Her intent to go or stay was thus discussed:

"Her goal was to get married or do a missionary." -- "Potentially she could do a missionary in Idaho." -- "But what if all the missionaries are in Africa? She would have to go there to do a missionary." 

It's okay, judge me, I'm immature.

Lent, Law School, and Practicing the Presence of God

I gave up watching TV for Lent. When Lent ended today, Easter, the day of victory, the day of celebration and joy, I gleefully partook of what I'd abstained from and finished the last season of HIMYM.

When it was finished (okay, I cried a little), I reflected on where the past two hours had gone, how it was 2am, and it was irresponsible to be up that late, and how deadened two hours of television had made me feel after such a wonderful day.

This, I thought, this is why I gave up TV.

I actually gave up TV in order to better practice the presence of God. I don't often observe Lent, just because self-denial for its own sake seems to me something I can only practice selfishly, for example, slipping into the trap of thinking that watching less TV would make me a better person.

But something curious happened.

On April 12th, three days before the response deadline, I sent in a seat deposit to Penn State. I made my decision. I chose a law school. And I had such peace about it. I looked for apartments as I Skyped with Maggie and we spit-balled about visiting Disney over our spring breaks.

But three days later, on April 15th, on the response deadline, I got an email from Suffolk, my first choice law school, offering me a full-tuition scholarship. (PSU had offered me this to begin with, which I why I had chosen them over Suffolk.) When I saw the email frustration seeped through me. "Why. Why. Why." I chanted to myself as I sat at my desk.

Once I got over my initial angst, I launched into advice-seeking, pro-con list-making, general rationalizing. I emailed PSU to see if I could get my deposit back. No dice.

The whole time I questioned, "Why, Father, would You have this happen this way?" All my life my path has been steered by the gentle channel of closed and open doors. I walk forward in my desires, seeking congruence with His will, and trust Him to halt the plans that aren't His. And this has really worked for me. I'm not one of these people who agonizes of the mystery that is knowing the will of God. His personage has a depth I can't fathom, but it seems His will is very simple: seek Him.

This being my paradigm, I was flummoxed by the sudden appears of two doors. The trust I had previously placed in my decision for PSU faltered as Suffolk again became a possibility. But I was also loathe to change my mind after I had already accepted PSU as my fate. I had waited for weeks for an email from Suffolk with such scholarship news; how stunting for it to come just days after I put the money down.

"What do You want me to do," I would inquire of Him sullenly, frustrated that He would have me question my future beyond the next three months, annoyed that He would tease me with something I had desired for so long. I wanted clarity. I wanted an answer. I wanted handwriting on the wall.

And I don't want to elevate myself to put words in His mouth, but in that moment what it seemed He replied was, "I want your attention."

Lent was not about watching television. The scholarship news from Suffolk was not about my law school decision. The choice has made me batty, but it's not about choosing a school. (Either is perfectly fine!) This is about something much more important.

It's about my heart. It's about increasing the proximity of my heart to His.

And it's funny how understanding this doesn't automatically attune me to Him, just like six weeks without television didn't kill my capacity to stay up late binging on episodes that have already aired. It's funny how easy it is to adopt "Seek Him" as your guiding decision-making paradigm and then you forget to actually like, seek Him.

But He won't relent until He has it all, our whole hearts, our complete attention. And how patient He is, and how creative, how He gives us these slow pitches as He teaches us to keep our eyes on the proverbial ball . . .

The baseball metaphor is dripping with cheese, I know, but I have so much joy that I am loved by a G0d who demands my attention and teaches me to give it to Him. That He says to me, "Daughter, I will not abandon the work I began in you." He lives. He leaves us not to follow Him blindly groping, but He will open our eyes and grab our attention.