After spending my middle school years daydreaming, my high school years dismally disgusted with the world, and my college years searching out Eastern philosophy and art overseas, I decided that during grad school, I would search to re-discover what it was that I truly believed. And through much study and turmoil, I found it.
I studied with all sorts of people that year, including a group of Korean missionaries. They had a habit of taking a new name after becoming Christian. I always loved the art of names, so I was determined to select a unique one, even if I never were actually called by that name in public. Originally, I wanted to take the name Ruth, but a gentle lady in the congregation had already claimed had that name. So, I continued searching for a name that would represent my meekness, my passion, and my creativity. One day, I stumbled upon a woman whom I had never noticed before in my reading: Jehosheba.
Her story struck me, particularly because of her relationship to both the king and the priest. Just a few months before, I had spent hours studying the stones of the hoshen, the breastplate worn by the Jewish high priest. My eagerness to dive back into the Bible and to dwell on the Jewish priesthood had been spurred by watching Raiders of the Lost Ark that spring. I gazed in hushed wonder at the strange Belloq who donned the priestly garments, hoshen and all, to stand before the Ark. Belloq became a personal symbol of both my idolatry and my desire to serve the Living God. (It even took the form of a book, which was never completed.) I identified with Belloq's love for God's art, wondered where my mis-placed love had led me in the past, and tried to envision where it would take me in the future as I sought for the meaning that lay just behind the images. This fascination with imagery and the priesthood impressed the story of Jehosheba on my mind.
Added to this was the sweet fact that I and II Kings were the first books of Scripture that I read in full after dusting off my old black Bible from years of neglect. Belloq, for some reason, reminded me of King Solomon. I used to love Solomon's writings when I was younger, and this nostalgically came to mind. But as I reflected, I realized that I didn't really know anything about the man Solomon. Asking my father, I found that I could learn about King Solomon in I and II Kings, and this is why I dove into those books. I was like the Queen of Sheba, who heard about the wisdom of King Solomon and wanted to discover him for myself. I found more than I ever expected. Before that spring in 2006, my Bible had simply gathered dust as a necessary addition to my things. But from that time on, the Scriptures came to life before my eyes, sprang to life in my heart, and set my soul on fire.
I considered changing my lj name as soon as I finished grad school, but I didn't actually do it for another year or two. The name marks a change in the direction of my life - from a person who chased after pictures to a person who seeks the meaning behind the art. I long to know the prophet, priest, and king who entered within the veil of the temple to present himself as my offering and I long to find eternal rest there in the temple of the Living God.