09....minus 1

Scott is going to swim in the ocean tomorrow, yes, it is cold and rainy and all that but he is a fan of starting the year off with a splash. Me...I finished the final draft of my MA final project yesterday, and for me that is my splash into the new year. Scott's deal is a one time event, cold slap in the face...Mine, I have been working on this since August.
This is quite significant for me, it had become so huge in my mind that psychologically I was unable to even start let alone complete. I had great ideas every month that I could never follow through on because it had become a mountain of impossibility. I have been needing to write this Final Project for my MA for about 2 years now and have been unable to write a single sentence till this last August. What happened was an advisor who knew I could and encouraged every step of the way, Thank you Randy, and a husband who always believes the impossible can happen especially if it has anything to do with ability. He knew I could more then I knew I could. Yesterday, while the kids and he were out giving me quiet space in the house, I corrected the last of the draft. (BTW...I seem to not like to put in commas, anywhere, even when I need them, and even, when, I don't).
It is anti climatic after all the personal drama to finally be done. I should have a party or something for this accomplishment but it is New Years and a new year trumps all other celebrations. I have no idea if and when the graduation ceremony will happen but all the writing is done. When they sign on that line I will have a MA in leadership...too bad I don't have a job that needs it. But I finished it...I did not quit...I wrote 70 + pages...This is a great way to begin a new year.

And they found the babe...

There he was, all crinkled, prune like...hair matted against his cone shaped head lying in the manger. Protected for a time in the arms of his mother. A bundle of wrapped potential stretching against the confines of skin...the Almighty in flesh.
There they were, tired from a day of sheep keeping. Bright light...strange words of hope...don't be afraid, He is Here...the Almighty God, the Prince of Peace, the Everlasting Father...All Hail...to this bundle of baby in the manger...GO and SEE...Peace and goodwill....Go and SEE!!!
There she was, tired sore, sweaty and dirty...pushing Him into humanity. A new mother, a new father...a new baby balling his little fists feeling hunger, limited for the first time in eternity, in a body.
Angels finding shepherds finding the baby...finding us.

Thank you all for following me through this journey of Christmas...it was so good for me to dive into the familiar. Merry Christmas and I will see you next year.

Mary did you know...

We watched a strange movie the other night...'Water'. It is a story about what happens to widows in India and how they are thrown away by society because without a husband they are just a burden to society. It made me think about the state of women across the world whether it is the hidden women in Muslims societies, the arranged women in Hindu society, the beaten down women in developing societies and the surviving women in war torn societies.

A great way to measure whether a religion has any merit is to see how they treat their women. It is a good barometer. Even though Christianity has its flaws when it comes to the treatment of women, Jesus always did right by women. He trusted himself not only to the care of a women but throughout His story all sorts of marginalized women were honored. A prostitutes (Rahab), a foreigner ( Ruth), the victimized (Tamar), the barren (Elizabeth), the widow ( Anna), the young mother (Mary) were named and honored.

Maybe that is why so many women followed Jesus and follow Jesus. Even though Catholics have taken away the simplicity of Mary and relegated her to an unapproachable standard, she represents the vulnerability of what it means to be a woman. And in that vulnerability she carried and cared for Jesus.

Every year I think of her as she struggles to carry her heavy body over the rough trail to a place she did not choose. No place of her own, no clean sheets and warm water, no family...nothing easy about the journey. So similar to so many stories all over the world on this day in December.

In uturo, He made his dwelling amongst us...

The reason for the season...

Every year we try really hard to do this season right. We are told time and time again that we can't forget the reason for the season. BUT...I contend that Jesus is not the reason for the season, we are. The whole reason we have this season, other then the fundamental reason that Constantine wanted to redeem the pagan solstice holiday, is to celebrate that the ALMIGHTY came down for us. We are the reason, we always have been and we always will be....Jesus came for us. I know...it makes it all pretty self-centered and it sounds wrong BUT...think about it. Unto you is born this day.....Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to men.

In Zechariah's song...because of the tender mercies of our God, by which the rising sun will come to us from heaven to shine on the darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide OUR feet into the path of peace. Jesus did not come on a holiday trip for His benefit, He came for us...We are the reason for this season.

It is odd to think this way but what it does for me is changes my perspective. If this was all for us...why not celebrate! The solstice holiday that we redeemed was a season of hope. IT is dark, but it will get lighter. IT is cold, it will get warmer. It is gloomy but it will end. Bring in the evergreen to remind us that seasons come and go...light the candles, have a party...get us through these dark days. We knew even in our paganism that we needed to celebrate in the dark to remind us about the light. Constantine was brilliant in changing what was hollow into what we now claim as our holy day. It has only been our holy day for a few hundred years...It wasn't ours to begin with...none of what makes up Christmas is our to begin with. We borrowed a lot to make this rowdy time of old redeemable. I think it is a great idea, Christmas isn't biblical in that it was a holiday we were to celebrate...we created this time because we needed this time to hope. In the dark of the season, in the cold of the night we needed a light to guide us through. A star...angels...donkeys and pregnant mothers... young and old, rich and poor , the best story ever to bring us light in our dark places. It is about us, always has been. Isn't that the most amazing gift ever!

And there were angels...

We had another BB game and this time we had more parents there then players from both teams. St. Paul's have a great fan base and though the girls team and the boys team had a combined score of 4 you would have never known from the parents cheering.
This is what I think about when I think of the Angels in the Christmas story...Fans of Baby Jesus coming to cheer even though it is a field and some shepherds. Like the parents, just excited to be cheering their team on no matter the score.
From the glory of heaven, the myriads of glorious song to a field and shepherds who can't even listen they are so scared...a strange place for an angel choir. But think about it...what was normal about any part of the story. The only normal event of the story was the baby being born. Nothing more normal then a baby being born when it is time...oblivious to the hoopla around just wanting his mothers milk and caring arms to nestle.
The gears of time and eternity pivot on that little baby, no wonder the angels came to sing.

Small things..cont.

There they were...Nick's BB team, all five of them. The team they were playing, about 20. I don't know if you realize this, if you have 5 members of a BB team...all of you play all the time with no breaks, just playing. 5 is all they have on the C team, the lowest of all teams at LC. Nick is the smallest member of the smallest team on the C team at LC.
They won... 19-17 in the last 20 seconds of the game. I have never been a big fan of BB, but this team inspires me, I don't want to miss a game. There is something about being an underdog that overcomes great odds that inspires even the jaded. Don't despise the small things...
A small baby, in a small town, in a small country, born to poor parents...Right! Change the world? I don't think so...Odds are stacked...
He did, He does still...overcome great odds to make all our smallness into something great. Our weakness, his strength. Our 10th...His surplus. Our attempts...His overcoming.
Joy to the World!

The day of small things...Zech.4:10

"Who despises the day of small things? Men will rejoice when they see the plumb line in the hand of Zerubbabel".
How's that for a Christmas card verse?
Zerubbabel who is in the line of David, line of Mary, line of Jesus...has the plumb line, making sure that when the temple is built it will be true. BIG TEMPLE...small plumb line, this small thing will make the BIG THING true. God is in the rebuilding program and this Christmas there is some rebuilding to do. God's rebuilding program for me starts small like having a plumb line in someones hand. Bringing truth into my thinking is where God begins with me.
The other day I was trying to deal with a huge disappointment. I was uncertain about abilities, strengths and purpose. Always uncertain ,it seems, these day. A friend called me for coffee. We met and soon after we sat down she was called away in an emergency of sorts but in that 10 minutes of conversation she poured love into my uncertainty. She was my plumb line. She spoke truth into my discouragement. She was my Zerubbabel with plumb line in hand. How about you...how about me? Whose plumb line are we?

Zechariah...in the OT

Z in the NT propels me to look at the original Zechariah in the OT. It is a great book full of angelic announcements, visions, proclamations and symbolism. Names from Jesus' genealogy are scattered through out this book as well as prophesies of that Day. It is a quick read, but it is one of the longer minor prophets. All this to day, I will be wandering through the chapters for the next week or so.
1:11 And they reported to the angel of the Lord who was standing among the myrtle trees, " we have gone throughout the earth and found the whole world at rest and peace". The 'they' are 4 horsemen who the Lord sent to go and see...
The whole world at rest and peace...
Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests.
It is the one phrase at Christmas that has always been dissonant to me. Peace on earth, it seems at that moment in the day of Zechariah it was true..the whole world was at rest and peace, but never since and definitely not now. If not global peace...can there be personal peace? What does that look like, that shalom, whole body and soul contentment with yourself, God and others? Are you at peace this Christmas season? Could you tell us what that looks like for you?

There was a priest named Zechariah... Luke 1:5

They were old, Elizabeth was barren and they were upright in the sight of God. Faithful servants but not quite fulfilled. They are described as people who observed all the Lord's commandments and regulations blamelessly but they had no children. This was a huge deal back then, huge deal now especially when you want children. I don't think they were hoping anymore and Elizabeth had figured out what to do with her life apart from being a mother. That must have been hard in a culture and time where being a mother was the most important role a woman could fulfill. They also felt that God had maybe overlooked them and somehow even in their faithful service it wasn't good enough. Longing unfulfilled as far as they knew.
Daily they were faithful anyway to what they knew they were given to do...
One day Zechariah goes to the temple...this time a bit different, he is chosen by lot to burn incense in the Holy of Holies. Everyone is waiting outside worshiping and an Angel comes down and brings tidings of a baby. Long story short...Zechariah does not believe, Angel gets mad, Zechariah gets to be mute for 9 months and Elizabeth gets to be pregnant and bear a child. Not just any child...the forerunner of Jesus, a voice calling in the wilderness, a strange child who eats grasshoppers and honey. A child who grows to be a man, set apart for an amazing task but who ends up getting killed by Herod a bit sooner then Jesus his cousin.
Elizabeth's disgrace had been removed..this is my favorite part of the whole story except for her husband being mute, that's just funny. God could have chosen anyone else but not only did he restore her to her community, he gave her the joy of caring a child and raising him.
Maybe God does not overlook our disgrace either.
Maybe in this season of longing and expectation He will meet us and surprise us. We may feel too old, too young, too inexperienced, too jaded, too disappointed, too something...maybe like Zechariah and Elizabeth He will bring us good news.

...and 14 from the exile to the Christ. Mt. 1:17

Longing is wrapped up in those words. Generations...400 years they say, silence in the heavens. Waiting, hoping and maybe giving up. When did some quit hoping, after the first generation, 100 years, 350 years...how long would I wait ? Christmas is a strange mix of emotions and one of them for me every year is longing. This is year in particular is fraught with a strong emotion of hope and longing. I don't know about you but I am dry to the bones when it comes to enthusiasm for things that are spiritual. I want to be excited about Christmas...I can't even muster enthusiasm for church.
Longing...The Jews had never been restored from the exile. They were still living under another countries rule and still waiting for liberation. After all that time can you imagine what they were looking for...it wasn't a baby in a manger. How can a baby save anything let alone give them back their dignity and freedom. But their freedom, their hope started with a baby...well, 2 to be exact. John and Jesus...cousins from a too old mother and a very young.
As I move through this story again it may at times seem pretty personal, it should be, hope always is.

Being Called...

In my post a few days ago titled "I wonder" a few students of mine took offense to my musings. This is great, they were wanting to defend the cause of their parents who are working in Papua as translators, a noble work. I would have wanted to defend as well, since my parents were missionaries. They made a comment about their parents being called to their work and that made me wonder again. What does that mean being called? My parents also were called, Pastors are called, my brother was called to France...are we all called? Are we called to saving faith and then called to a ministry? Can we be called to whatever vocation we choose or is any vocation we choose a calling. Does it matter? Is a calling a desire?
Paul talks that some of us are called to be pastors, teachers etc. so is calling using our gifts in the local body here and beyond? If that is true, then we are all called to use our gifts within the local body to the glory of God?
On a side...when I wonder, I really am wondering! When I wonder about what a missionary is, I really do wonder? It is my fundamental desire to use words to describe what is, rather then what we want it to be.
When Scotty W. asked us if we wanted to go to Fiji to be directors of their school ..was that a calling and we said no? Or...are we called here to Lynden because that is where we are?
All my life I was told not only by my parents but by the Christian community that being in ministry was the highest calling...If I did not go into full time ministry somehow whatever else I was doing was not going to be as good as being a missionary or whatever other full time ministry was out there.
In this kind of thinking we do a disservice to all who are following Jesus in whatever "calling" they have. Scott who works in a refinery every day in the cold and rain, rubbing shoulders with souls is called to this hard work so he does his best work. If we uphold the ordinary tasks ...doesn't the call to be the best make every job a full time ministry?
We have to stop placing work in categories of called work and not-called work. This makes everything we do that good work if it is translating in Papua or refinery work in Ferndale. Maybe being called is the attitude in which we do our work wherever or whatever it is.

Christmas 08

Hello everyone..I am hoping you are all having a wonderful Thanksgiving. I am going to be posting quite a bit during the Christmas season and I hope you come along for the ride. I have done this in the past ...thoughts about the season from the Christmas story. This is a great avenue for me to write to someone who wants to read...I hope you don't mind. I probably won't write every day but at least 3 or 4 times a week, much for me so that the season does not slip away into the meaningless. Thank you ...again and again for your patience with my ramblings and your interest.

Wouldn't that be lovely!

Dear all,
We are looking for someone who could come out for 4-6 months as Fixer. We are looking for a jack of all trades who is willing to train 2-3 Papuan guys as we go. Needs to have good Christian character and value the long term discipleship input for the guys being trained as much as the short term fixing that is going on. Bit of carpentry for some building rehab, bit of electrical, bit of mechanical, bit of plumbing. The Papuan guys I have speak English so this person doesn't have to have Indonesian language skills but that would be helpful. Being able to flex, improvise and do it all on the cheap in a setting like Papua takes a pretty special person.
This could work into a longer term deal with overseeing construction site in Napua, possibly helping with sawmill operation and a bunch of other "possibilities." First off we would like the person to come to Bok and help with leveling some buildings, helping with some electric and plumbing issues at the APCM and MAF complexes. From there the sky is the limit!
If you know someone who would be good at this please get them in touch with me. This could be a young single guy or retired couple or anything in between! God seems to send us interesting folks that don't fit the "box" so we are very open!
scotty ( That is Scotty Wisely in Bokodini...makes us think)

Why the new do....

You may ask what convinced me to change everything about my hair, well like everything else there is a story. It started 14 years ago after Mijo was born...my normal blond hair that I had so willingly worn since my birth changed to a weird color brown. I was not ready to relinquish my blond so over these years in some way or other I made sure that I was more blond then brunette. The other day as I looked in the mirror I realized that maybe after all these years I could just go for it and become what my hair has been trying to do naturally for 14 years. So instead of slowly changing over...I went to the hair studio and jumped all the way into being a brunette. It is rather strikingly different...strange to see that familiar face with new hair. It is almost like my face needed the change, I feel younger...Nick says I look 25 now rather then the 35 I did with my other hair color. Nice of that Nick...knows how to make his Mom's day. I see my Mom in my face now...I miss her, I wonder what she would think of all I have become.

Being OK with ok

I was sitting next to a teacher-friend of mine and he was asking me how I was doing. "I'm OK", I said. OK? just OK? I was thinking, Hey...better then bad, buddy.
I'm usually OK, not great but not bad either. Is that OK?
Funny, how when you say a word over and over again it seems to lose its meaning. We really don't want to be OK we want to be doing great. Who doesn't?
But I think there is something really wonderful about being OK. There is a settled but not a settling in...there is a contentment but not a passivity. There is a wrestling but not an agitation. There is a sense of yearning but nor the angst of longing. There is a patience for what may come but not the worry of what won't. There is an anticipation but not a wariness. There is a sadness but not a depression. There is so much in two little letters.
So, it's OK to be OK...

I wonder...

I was thinking the other day...I think I think too much, as one of my co-workers told me.
Who is a missionary? What has been defined as a missionary, someone who goes overseas to bring the gospel to those who do not know is not the case anymore. When we were in Papua, it seemed most of the 'missionaries' were there to help other missionaries who were there to help the local church. Not much gospeling going on. There are missionaries who live here on my street in Lynden. Obviously not overseas, maybe bringing the gospel but then would they not be witnesses? A friend of mine is a houseparent, is she a missionary?
Who is a missionary? If you ask someone to support you financially are you then a missionary? What if you can work in the place you have gone, should you still ask for money to be there? Is a missionary a role like Pastor, elder etc. A person sent out by the church to do whatever the church asks them too? But what if the Church isn't really sending you? What if you are telling the church where you are going and what you are doing and they just need to give you money to be there? Why are their mission boards rather then sending churches? Who keeps the missionary accountable in that field of choice? Who is Pastoring them? It seemed that in Papua, there was an expat community to help the expat community. Sort of like a oil company with all the perks but the business was being a missionary, whatever that means. I am wondering about how we do things today, in our postmodern virtual world. What we did then should we do now? Maybe times have changed enough to change the way things are done.
I am wondering...

Elections

I think the whole world will be paying attention tomorrow to whom we elect. I have opinions, I have questions and tomorrow FINALLY it will be done. What has bothered me most this time around is that I trust no one. I don't believe anyone on TV, or on the Internet, or on the radio and most definitely nothing in print. Yet, that is the only source to get any information about anything. They kind of have us in a bind...what we know about any of the issues comes from people who are not bound by telling the truth so inevitable we end up thinking what we think because it seems to be the best. So how do we really know? What we spout has been spouted by others who think the same as we do by those who spout what they think we should know about any given subject. ARGH...McCain or Obama...McBama...what can they do really? God Bless America? Maybe we should Bless God America for a change.

Fall and falling

The colors are grand this year. I have no idea if they were grand last year since we were not here to observe last years Fall season. This year,though...it is wonderfully pretty.
I am in a funk of some sort and I can't seem to shake it no matter how spectacular the colors are. Uncle Frank passed away at the start of the week. Aunt Wilma his wife is in a nursing home. These were my houseparents growing up in ,then it was called, Irian Jaya. Uncle Frank also walked into Mapnduma with my Dad 45 years ago to start 'the work' there. These men and women risked a lot to be where they were. I wonder would I have done the same? There was a kind of cavalier attitude in the adventure of it all. Risking family relationships, marriages and often times health to go farther and do more for the Kingdom. All good then, maybe now...who knows. Scott and I think often about going back to Papua. There is in me that quiet voice calling so intently...make a difference, do something bigger then running errands and fixing lunches, make your mark by giving yourself away. Serving harder, serving better, serving at all...I don't know anymore.
It is Fall here in the beautiful Northwest, we have had a spectacular one so far. Me, I am falling deeper into a funk. No worries though, it is only a season.

A Whole Week

It has been a whole week since I last posted. I am usually not that bad...why this week? It was one of those weeks that slipped away before I knew it was gone. I have been working on my MA and a Powerpoint about Papua, and getting my classes ready and making sure the kids are where they need to be...and apologizing to Scott.

By themselves each moment does not evoke beauty or grace, but strung together...dew drops in a necklace of silken thread.

I have been wretched with Scott but yet his forgiveness erases the guilt. The PowerPoint on Papua puts in perspective again the year of wonder and how grateful we are for that time. Getting my MA done, I really never thought it was possible to sit down and write something that could be considered MA material, and it is coming together. Running the kids back and forth allows me glimpses into their journey, even the 5 minutes from school to home gives me enough information to continue the conversation at home. Getting my classes together, I am always surprised students like me and allow me to teach them. Every semester, every year I am given the privilege and I am always struck with those holy moments.

It has been a whole week...I am looking forward to the next dewdrops on silken threads.

Being Busy

This is the family not too many weeks ago. They were all advertising for the worst team in college football, our underdogs of underdogs...the Huskies. It was a moment in time...it seems we have wandered so far from where were were not too many months ago.

We are busy... not bad busy, not too busy, but fill your calendar for several months ahead of time busy.

I am not...busy that it is. I am the eye of the hurricane as these three run here and there. Nick with football, Mijo with drama, and Scott with drill, work and classes.

I keep thinking about when were were in Papua. Not so busy and if we were, we were busy with the same things. Here in Lynden the business does not intersect and often times it collides. I know it is a season and I am not worried about it, but it does seem that we are much more disconnected as a family. I don't think it is a badge to brag about...I am not one of those who thinks being busy is next to being godly or even American. I think being busy is a choice...and it creeps quickly into the 24 hour period of time we call days. I would like to be busier, I think it would make me feel more important. But if I was busier, then these 3 couldn't be.

As I peruse Facebook entries I realize we are all busy. I think it is good that we are involved and creative. What do we do when we are not busy...do we connect more, laugh easier and wonder? Because I am not so busy..I would like to connect more, laugh and wonder but everyone else is busy.

Now for something completly different!

8 times...I ferried my children back and forth 8 times yesterday. Let me tell you...7:35..Mijo to ITF ( worship team thingy)...8:05 Nick to school...11, me to school...3:15 Mijo home, 4:00 me to Nicks football game ( 32-14 winning season)...5:20 Mijo home to school for play practice, stay and wait for Nick to be done...6:45 Mijo from one play to the other one she is in...9, Mijo home again home again jiggety jig. I don't mind them being busy...I am very glad we live in the town where all these things are happening. Today...not so much driving...just 5x.

Wrap up!

When I write something I usually have learned something, thought about something and usually I can wrap it up nicely in a bow....This time...I don't know how to wrap it up...The question that woke me up the other night was simply...Where is God when you get old? I am sure many of you have wandered the hallways of an old folks home and thought...May I never end up here...Please may I die in my sleep before I get to this condition.
As much as someone can tell me that God wanders those hallways in those homes...He seems as absent as most of their wills to live. It seems a big, huge elaborate waiting room...
As I look towards the inevitable aging process...I wonder will God whisper His presence in my failing ears? Will His Peace invade the anxiety of forgotten memories? Will His joy enfold my loneliness? Maybe, because we don't hear about God when our bodies and minds are failing we think He is absent...Oh to have the voices from those saints speak into our growing fears and reassure us that Yes, God is not only with us when we get old but He is even sweeter.

Old men and dogs

After my diatribe about Mocha I settled down and looked at this picture again. This is what I want, not the being an old man, but the companionship of a dog on a leisurely walk on an Autumn day. The settled understanding between man and beast...rather then the intensity of a puppy with too much energy and not enough room to run.

Scott can't bring himself to let the dog go... there is an old man hiding under his youngish..well, I guess middle aged soul. He is that man walking his dog, that is his vision of Mocha even in the middle of all her piddle. He still hopes for her so he perseveres even in all the frustration.

Me...I am working so hard to live in the present that the present situation overshadows the futures possibilities. She still is here...grabbing the pizza off the counter, eating my corn bread off the counter, barking in my ear...and loving me every moment she sees me. Enthusiasm which knows no bounds as I enter the room. So I look at this picture, I am envisioning the future...strolling down the road with said dog strolling along in the sunshine.

Update on Mocha

What to do...what to do. This dog is causing much concern in our household. She will not listen, she still pees inside...we have no idea why. When we try and discipline her concerning her bladder control, she looses control again. She will not stop jumping up and at times for no reason we can discern becomes uncontrollable afraid of Nick. I have come to the conclusion that she needs to be in a home where she can live outside, in a barn with other dogs. What is most interesting is that Scott is thinking the same. We needed a dog when we came back, but maybe when all is said and done what we wanted was Winzig and Mocha is no Winzig.
There are certain things that are the same as they are both the same breed...but replacing a memory with a reality, doesn't seem to work. At the same time though, we are willing to work with her but she does not seem to want to work with us. Maybe we had too many expectations for her as well. We have not given up...But, we certainly are not as enthusiastic :). If any of you dog whisperers out there have some ideas for us, let us know. AND
If you know of anyone who would want a beautiful, livered German Short Hair, with lots of spirit and enthusiasm and who will be able to hunt with some good training...we have a dog for you.

Are you there ?

Just need to know if I still have an audience...please let me know.

47 - 6

That was the score at Nick's football game, in our favor. What I though was amazing was that during half time when the score was 30 something to 6 I saw the opposing team huddle before the game began. If you have ever played ball of some sort you know what you cry in that huddle before you go out...KILL, CRUSH, WIN...any of those kill the other team words to pump you up so you can win. Well, as this team was getting ready to go out they all yelled PLAY! I just had to smile...no real opportunity to win, but they could play. I love that!!! As the clock was winding down the team was chanting and hooting on the sidelines encouraging their team...to just Play and then play until the very end no matter the score.
So...I want to encourage you today ...whatever the score, whatever the strong and mighty opponent might have to say....PLAY..Stay in the game...don't quit...Hang in there...PLAY!!!

Balance!

Moderation, balance, harmony, peace, centeredness...amazing words, life defining values...utterly impossible :).

Well, not impossible but highly improbably in every moment of the day. BUT...there are those moments that it seems the confluence of the hectic streams of life flow evenly, balanced and in harmony and peace. Those moments are worth a pause.

This bathroom situated at the top of Whistler mountain is such a wonderful picture of those kind of moments...balance even in precarious times. It seems that we are in those times...those precarious times when the future though planned isn't quite as certain. The edge of worry breaks into every shopping trip and bank deposit...what ifs bombard the usual stream of nonsense thinking and we wonder...

I find the confluence of my streams of life meeting most consistently in peaceful moments when I dive into what is true, full of beauty and achingly simple. What brings balance to me in these moments is a Prince of Peace...true, full of beauty and achingly simple.

Whistler Surprise!

I was a speaker up at Whistler resort this past weekend. We had the afternoon free so I wandered down to the village to do some people watching. Well, I saw much more then I wanted. What you do not see in this picture clearly is that a bunch of people took all their clothes off right there by the water. They were part of a group doing strange things around the Whistler area and I guess one of the dares was being naked in the middle of the day in the middle of the square. I was rather amused that my intention for people watching became much more robust.

Naked people are normal in Papua, especially interior...well, only interior. Why is it that one culture's naked people is OK while an others is a dare...I was impressed with the apparent nonchalance at Whistler as if people undressing is all part of what goes on in the square on a Saturday afternoon.

The human body, even when you see much more then you want it is such a wonder!

Morning Mocha!

As I write, Mocha is warming my feet. I wish she would spend more time at my feet then in my hair...There isn't a day where I look at her and wonder what we were thinking when we got her. As much as she is a wonderful companion for Scott, I spend the most time with her and as much as she is cute and all that..it is the 'all that' that makes for frustrating moments.
It was my 45th birthday yesterday and as much I realize I am getting older I would rather it be less noticeable. Birthdays are like Mocha...irritating in the present but comfortable in the presence. I like having her around, she makes coming home an adventure. I don't mind getting older...the perspective is great and the confidence wonderful. It is in the daily's though...the rough and tumble of living with what we cannot do...opportunities becoming more limited. Such is Mocha...limiting but necessary. Such is aging, limiting but necessary.

Last of the 44's

This is my last week as a 44 year old. I can't remember how it is that one week I was turning 30 and now a year later I am going to be 45. So what already...It isn't that big a deal anymore to be the age I am except when Scott talks to me about having a 5 year plan and I realize that in that 5 years I will be 50.
I like being this old...it gives me so much freedom. Freedom to be who I am, wear what I like, and think what I think. I don't really have to take the opinions of those around me seriously...and I really don't have to change them. I am finally free of futile pursuits and yet...I can still dream big dreams. I can revel in the accomplishments of the kids and the company of my older husband(by 1 year). Mijo grabbed two skirts in my closet yesterday and remarked how cool they were...my mother had bought these for me in Wales when I was Mijo's age..still have them, still wear them and now..she may as well. A life time in some skirts...44 going on 45.

little light on the subject

Mijo and Nick are both trying out for parts in the drama of school. Mijo in a drama and Nick in football. Mijo made the call backs but not the play and we have yet to see if Nick gets to play the position he is trying out for. On Friday though, he was rather discouraged because he could not catch the ball. I think this is important in football and the position he is trying to get.

Both these children are wanting to make their marks and participate fully in the stage of school life. They put themselves out there to be rejected and/or accepted but they put themselves out there anyway.

Of course, Mijo not making it in the play makes me wonder about the fairness of the system at all. All I know is how wonderful Mijo is...I just see her with the light I have. She is always center stage for me no matter what part she plays. Nick is always the best on the team no matter what position he plays. The beam of light follows them wherever they go, no matter their achievement, no matter their success or lack of.

I am not one of those parents who thinks their children are owed anything, they need to earn whatever place they get BUT in the capricious world of merit I know they will at times not even get what they deserve because coaches and directors also have just a little bit of light and that beam might look elsewhere. Nothing is fair in love and war, plays and football. As my wounded players come off the field of intent and desire, I enfold them as best I can and ride it out until the next time they put themselves out there. I pray really hard that the beam of light from those who have the power to choose will coincide with the beam I have and shine on these two wonderful players and they will be able to play to the best of their ability on the stage or field of their desire.

Not all that...

School started yesterday and I must say it is lovely to be teaching again. Teenagers are amazing beings.
On a whole other note...We all usually feel like we are really good at something. Not that we are the best ever seen but ...close. For me, I knew I had a good curriculum for my Family Psychology class and I was very proud of all the thing I put together. Last year here at LC a new teacher took up my class and I kind of felt sorry for her. She had to teach MY AMAZING curriculum and I was sure she would and could not do a good job let alone better. Yesterday she gave me my curriculum back and she had. She took what I thought was great and truly improved on it and made it so much more organized and effective. SOOOOOOO humbling, I can be so driven to be the unique-est ( I know not a word) and want that niche that no one can have but God will and can and does use anyone who is willing...It is OK to be OK. Contrary to our culture, I don't have to be better then anyone. It frees me up to enjoy others successes and gifts rather then thinking everyone has to enjoy mine. Now I get to teach a curriculum enhanced and organized and so much better...for her I am so very grateful.

Insight...finally

We, us teachers, are preparing for school. Sometimes the preparation is helpful sometimes it is just..well, it is. The funny thing is that whether we are prepared or not everyone descends on school next week. Yesterday we had a full day of listening and learning about our strengths. it is a strange thing at my ripe old age of 45..well 45 soon...that things finally come together about why I am the way I am. It is revealing but at the same time a bit disconcerting. Needless to say my takeaway or my insight is this...

I am a thinker, I am an introvert, I connect the dots in a kind of global way, I am strategic and I love new and fresh ideas. The best place for me to be in outside the US. Weird how a total stranger could put these things together for me...not ever having a discussion with me or knowing my background. How this is helpful to me...I have to think about it :). I guess if anyone should be able to see how it would all connect, well that would be me.

It is nice to know..but like any tool or piece of information it is only good in how beneficial it is to the community. School starts this coming week. I am teaching some, writing much and wondering how it is all going to connect. I guess it is OK to be who I am...refreshing in the simplicity of it all. The Image of God sprinkled in a unique way in all of us.

Red shoes, failed farming and walking the dog

First of all...we had a beautiful patch of growing corn..strong tall stalks...HAD! A freak windstorm came and blew them all down . WHAT IS WITH THAT!!!! If it had been a larger patch it would have been a crop circle. They were so beautiful, I almost felt farmish. Not that I like corn, I was so impressed with our growing ability.

Mijo bought some red shoes for school...She said to me as I was looking at cute little whatever shoes that I know everyone would be wearing. " Mom, if everyone is wearing these I won't". I will be counter cultural..I so wonder where she gets that tendency? So she will be wearing red converse shoes to school..and every day when I see her in the halls...I will be so proud!

Mocha is not Winzig when it comes to going for a run. She walks close to Scott when we go out to the fields. Winzig would run like the wind and run as hard as she could. Mocha, stays as close as she can. We will see, she is still young.

What do all these random things have in common you may ask?

Nothing seems to be in my control, the growing corn, the wardrobe choices of my daughter and the dog...I can't for the life of me get the smallest detail to work out...Isn't it great! I need to be reminded every day that I am not, nor will ever be in control of anything except how I respond to life's medley of randomness. Letting go of the idea that control is even desirable...and embracing in full my control in response. I love what red shoes symbolizes, how I cannot even control my small patch of corn and that Mocha will do whatever she wants...Oh well! Isn't life funny that way...

Not too many years ago..

This is fair week here in Lynden..Big deal always for the town and it always falls on Mijo's birthday week. August is a full month for celebrations. On the 11th it is our anniversary, 15th Scott b-day, 16th Mijo's B-day and 25th it is Nicks. It is a very stressful time for me because unlike some in my family, I am not that good at getting things together.

We used to go to the fair for birthday bashes...everything was taken care of, hoopla and excitement as you can see in this picture. Yesterday, Nick and a friend went and did the fair all by themselves and Mijo will be with her friends today. I have no idea even if Scott and I need to go :).

Not too many years ago they were hanging on tight, there is a freedom in letting them go while they let us go.

In a minute...

Just heard that an AMA pilot died in a plane crash in Papua this past Friday. Dave Clapper was on a ten minute flight to bring some produce to another village and flew into a mountain. He leaves his wife and 5 children. He flew into the Mbua when we were there, he was so engaging friendly and helpful. He had such a heart for the Papuan people...This wasn't his plane, this is a MAF plane but the idea is the same. It is always in the back of your mind while you fly around in Papua with all the different agencies that fly... we depend and respect these men who put their lives on the line to transport everything back and forth.

In a minute, every thing changes...May the God of comfort do his good work here...we are so very sad for this family and for the extended family in Papau, I can feel the pain all the way here.

Holding...

We were landing in Bokondini and Nick slid his hands back so that I could re-assure him that the landing would be OK. I have a thing about hands and pictures of them. I could put them all on the blog and you would be looking at hands for awhile. We can do so much with our hands!

Lately my hands have been busy...driving Mijo and Nick here and there and there and back here again. Smacking the dog...again and again so she won't pee...she is frustrating. Making supper, lunch and coffee for breakfast, typing on the computer, watering the plants, hugging my parents who visited for a few minutes it seemed. My hands are involved in making another quilt using a pattern I gleaned from the PSAT test, wiping the dust off the tables and vacuuming the carpet. My hands have picked the new tomatoes from our plant and new blue berries from our blueberry bushes. My hands have held many many books as I seek insight into my MA project and insight into my life.

I also know that the hands of many of you are busy as well, working, waiting, wanting, worrying...holding. Keep holding on tight, I am...the landing will be fine.

He does

In the middle of all this fog sometimes I forget how grateful I am for Scott. I may have waxed eloquent about this man in times past but in this month of August we celebrate our anniversary and it will be our 6th. I wish I could say that all six years have been great but Scott is and I am, well...neither of us are easy going. Often when people meet me and do not know Scott assume that I am in charge, wearer of the pants..whatever that means. Then they meet Scott and wonder how the two of us don't tear each other apart. I am thankful that we are six years farther along in our relationship and that the stubbornness of that man has kept us glued tight. He loves Mijo and Nick, they are his own. He gets me and that is no small undertaking. He lets me be who I am and is not threatened by who I am nor the intensity of my personality. He is that noble man who drives me nuts and keeps me still. I have always been afraid of depending and needing, still am but so much less. So this day, I wanted you all to know that I am deeply grateful for this man who luvs me.

Now I am discouraged

The job I was waiting to hear about, teaching in the MS at LC, well, it seems that they went with someone else. So as the leaves have been stripped off a little at a time over these past months, I can easily say that there aren't any green leaves clinging on anymore.

So where to from here...I look at the want adds in the paper a little more seriously. I have to realize that what I want and what is are usually different. It will be strange not to be a teacher anymore...

Then there are those days

When we were in Eipomek for OE, we would have those days that all our stuff was out to dry and the rain came in, we were all set to go and do a project with our only clean clothes only to find out that it involved getting really muddy. One of my dear friends had saved her last pair of clean everything for the return trip only to fall down headlong into a muddy creek while traversing a log on her way up to the airplane. Yesterday was one of those days when everything clear suddenly became very unclear. I became very uncertain again about what I am writing for my Major Project. I still have not heard about my job prospects this fall. Scott told us that every person in his National Guard unit was called up to go to Iraq and the only reason he has not been called up was because he was not in the system. There is a good likelihood as he gets back in the system that he might be called up as well or then maybe not... So here we are in the mist again.

A few hours before this shot was taken you could look all the way down the valley to vista's with waterfalls and mountains. Not a few days back we had the view, I was feeling really good about my project and Scott was encouraged about the work prospects this coming year. Things can change in a minute, ya? It is hard at times like this to know if God can see the mountains even if we can't. Funny...He made them I am sure He knows each hill and valley, waterfall and flower. Maybe that is why in Matthew He tells us to consider the grass of the field...Not to worry, don't be anxious, Fret not...Oh ya..Psalms 37, Fret not, Trust in, Delight yourself , Cast all your cares, and BE STILL. The Amplified says it so succinctly, which is strange in that it is the amplified version, Let Be and Be still. OK already...OK !

Sometimes it is better to do just what it says

Do not entry...or don't come in here, you are not welcome. We were walking around temple areas and many times there were sections we were not allowed to entry :). The reason being I found out later is that we would bring bad ju-ju into this place of worship and there may not be enough sacrifices to be done to cleanse the place after we leave. Easier just to not allow us to enter.
Funny though, that is where I wanted to go just because they did not want me in there. I know..not very sensitive but honest. I don't like to be told to do anything, I think it is a common feeling amongst human beings and dogs. Dogs because we are trying to train our pup who also does not like to be told what she is not allowed to do. There are so many times during the day when I simply tell her no..no and no again. Do not come in, pick up, knock over, eat, chew, run through, jump on and entry. Psalm 37 gives me some very clear direction as well. Clear and concise... I am not allowed to fret, tells me I have to trust and delight and commit and then be still. I seem to want to do the opposite. Sometimes though it is just better to do what it says...

Woke up one morning...OK

I have no idea what morning but one day I realized I wasn't dreading the day anymore. I am still having a hard time thinking we were ever gone from here but the routing of the day and the summer has overtaken the intensity

But let me give you a snapshot of our days...

I am writing for my MA degree, I am watering my garden, I am shuttling kids here and there, I am saying a loud NO to the puppy every second of every hour and I am eating my absolute favorite berry in the world, the blue one. It is about 75 degrees here during the day and about 54 at night. It really can't be any more perfect. It is a bit on the cool side for me but I can accommodate. Scott is working, Mijo is flitting here and there, Nick is riding bike everywhere with his buddy and I am home with the mad pup. No news about next year but I am hoping this week will tie up those loose ends. We have found a church we want to invest in and Facebook keeps me somewhat connected to everyone everywhere. I think I am OK...I miss a lot of things and lots of people. Missing, that is a subject all to its own.

Renewing her passport

A friend of mine called me yesterday...88 year old woman whom I love dearly. She was welcoming me home and wanting to hear all about our adventures. As we talked she told me about her moving to a home and this has been really hard on her. " I always thought I would just be taken home but I guess I am taking a detour".
I heard this quote in a movie we watched, "You know how to make God laugh...make plans". All the plans we make and how much of it doesn't quite happen the way we thought. As we were coming to the end of our conversation she told me that she was going to renew her passport on Monday..."you never know" she said. I love that spunk in her..I love that she loves God and has done so most her life. I love it that she rests and struggles with life at 88 and wonders how to trust God in this next change she is going through. I love it that she is going to her renew her passport because you really never know and you have to be prepared. Scott told me the other day as I bemoaned the fact that I don't know what I am going to do this fall...Heidi, everything can change in a moment...wait and see. So even though I don't have to renew my passport, I am prepared. I am waiting and seeing and waiting some more.

Order in chaos

To be honest...it is hard for me to be here in Lynden. Not because it is Lynden, it is a great town and community but because I have no idea what I am supposed to do here in Lynden. Every day I wake up wondering what I am going to do to fill the day. When we were in Jogjakarta every morning we had this buffet of breakfast foods to choose from, western, Chinese or Indonesian. The juices alone made for a beautiful visual and that was just the start of the day...

So..I have been reading, finishing my quilt, cleaning the house, disciplining the puppy, fixing supper and wondering. I read the other day that when we bring order into chaos we bring God's kingdom down here as it is in Heaven. It is as though what I do here affects heaven, could my making order out of the chaos of my house and garden bring glory to God? Could what I think is mundane really be sacred after all?

Is the buffet offered to me every morning though simple yet still really as profound and significant as any buffet given to anyone in anyplace? Could it be as simple as that?

From there to here

This was the first day we arrived in Papua. All scroggy from lack of sleep and in wonder at being in Sentani. Mijo and Nick were shorter and we had no idea what lay ahead of us. Zip a year later and we are not so much in wonder at being in Lynden but we have no idea what is ahead. We have some idea probable much more then we had that day in August.
To be honest I have no idea why I am still keeping a blog. The routine of being in Lynden can't really be of interest ...it isn't even interesting to me. I am in a bit of a funk which I can't seem to talk myself out of. Again, I know it is a transition but I can't imagine you are all interested in my ravings and mundane struggles. So unless I hear otherwise or feel otherwise...This should be it.

Mocha Mousse

Why oh why do we have another dog you may ask...Well, look at that face how could you say no :).

Part of being where you are is investing in the place where you live. We do not know our future but we know where we are at present and being present for this family is having a wee pup as part of the family. Here she is...a solid German short hair, a beautiful silky brown mocha mousse.

I have so much mulling in this old head of mine that I can't seem to find the words to express myself. Being here, not being there, and not knowing if going anywhere is part of the picture anymore. A restlessness picked up again and the intensity of wanting to do and be someone of significance. The boundaries of the future seem limited by being home and even getting this pup signifies a settling of sorts. This word settling is an anathema for me while being at the same time a word of peace. Settling can mean not wanting the better thing or like this pup winding down and finding a place to rest. A friend told me that I was too good to be here in the States...we are much better then a random teacher or a refinery worker she said. That phrase resonates with me because that is what we as MK's have been taught our whole life. Being out there is much better then being here. Really? Does God really have better deals in cross-cultural settings? Does He love you more and bless you better? It isn't truth, and because of that it does not set me free. Honestly it is harder to be here in the US then being in Papua, if harder makes something more significant. Teaching the random class at LC is much more intense, being in a refinery much more of a 'mission field'...does it then matter geography? I think it has much more to do with obedience.
Like Mocha, maybe our attitude is simply wanting to please our Owner and learning how to obey.

Moving in slo-mo

Scott and I went to Costco yesterday to fill the larder and I felt like I was moving under water. How many choices I have to make about bread, meat and yogurt anyway? We are 80% set up..or even more and though the house is getting together my mind hasn't quite found where it needs to settle. I wander the house trying to find the place that feels like home and it's still just our house. We are missing winzig our dog...she made it a home and when our cat came back yesterday from her stay she gained about 10 pounds and looks like a big huge marshmellow. I am not quite sure if she is our cat...We are trying to figure out how to be who we are here in Lynden. The shadows of our former selves echo in these walls but we all have gone through a change and there is a disconnect. We will figure it out sooner then later, it is just transition time.

315 10th street

So...we are in the house and it is about 60% set up thanks to the never ending strengh of my husband. If it was up to me...20% maybe. I am so tired and lethargic all I have done all day is sneak naps when Scott is not looking. It just isn't right to be sleeping while he works so tirelessly...but I could not help it on so many occasions. AND IT IS SO COLD here that makes me curl up in a ball all the more. It is the coldest spring here in I don't know how many years, driving up yesterday it was 53 degrees. Mijo is busy with her summer drama production of Alice in Wonderland...she is the Cheshire cat. Nick is putting the Xbox together of course. Scott will most likely go back to work next week and I will try and finish the last touches of the house. It seems like we never left, it is so surreal in the routine of life that has not deviated at all. Were we there? Are we here? A friend asked me if I wanted to be in Sentani...no, I just don't know where I want to be except sleeping :).

HUGE SIGH

We have arrived here in the US...we are here we are in one piece we are tired..oh so tired. I will write when we are home...or tomorrow or...when I am awake. We are back.

Travel would be great...

if we didn't have to travel. Getting there is wonderful...the process sheesh already. We are waiting in the Jakarta airport with good news and not so good news. Lots of money to pay for extra baggage...HATE THAT>>> BUT we can go straight to Seattle rather then stop in San Fran...this makes for 7 less hours of travel time, one less take off and landing and we get in Seattle at a normal time of 7:30 ish PM on the 16th. This is going to be one very long day, I think we leave Taipei before we arrive :). Can't wait to see you all....REALLY excited about not traveling for awhile.

Kodak moments on Canon

From the top..we always sat this way in the taxi, made silver rings, fed the birds in the bird park, Nick with an iguana, Scott working on his Batik and then the finished product and us at Borobudur.

Yogykarta

We have made our own Batik...silver jewelry ...visited Borobudur...and today the market and the Sultans Palace. It is a great Indonesian city and if you are planning a visit to this side of the world and want to see something other then beaches and such, this is the place to come. As I write this morning from my Hotel room in the patio there is an old Javanese man playing on his traditional instrument and singing. It isn't what you would play on your Ipod at home and to be honest does not even sound pretty, but it is interesting and definitely not MTV. This afternoon I will upload some pictures of our time here so that you can get an idea of what we have explored.

On another note..this is also our last day here in Indonesia. Tomorrow AM early we begin the long flight home. For me this is the fly in all the ointments. As you may know by now I have an unusual fear to flying. I get panicky when we hit turbulence and trust me when I tell you I know logically that my fear is unfounded. Well, not unfounded there have been many airplane accidents...but I know what you are saying. I am so looking forward to getting into my house but not the huge unpacking that will need to happen for us to be in our house. Where are those magical elf's when you need them. So if you think about it...please pray for very uneventful flights all the way home.

Whose looking at whom?

We were walking on the beach one evening and all these Muslim women were taking pictures of each other in the setting sun. We had endured a whole day of scantily clad women on the beach and suddenly in the middle of it all there are these modestly clad women. It was refreshing in its distinction. In Papua when we go to the beach or the pool we (women) are wearing board shorts and T-shirts. Bali...well, not as modest and a bit of a shock. Really ladies...do we really have to show so much skin. Enough already, and that it why these women were refreshing. On the other hand...many a Muslim man can be seen walking slowly down the beach gazing at what their women would never ever be able to show in public. It is a strange perspective that unfolds every day on this Bali beach. Near naked western women, fully clad Muslim women, fully protected Balinese woman, and watching eyes everywhere.
We are now in Yogyakarta on the Island of Java. It is an hour plane ride from Bali and a completely different place again. Papua, Bali and now Java...amazing country this Indonesia. We will be making our own Batik tomorrow...we will see how creative this Price family is.

Nasty Monkeys

There are many many temples here...every street corner and market place there is a Hindu temple.

Wherever you walk, every entrance to hotels and stores there are offering to appease the badgering spirit of each place. Talking with some folks who have lived here and long time, I was told that many of these offering when placed at stores or hotels are to cleanse the place from all the evil spirits that us foreigners bring in with us. They want us here but at the same time having to keep the air clean from all the evil we bring with us. Strange how it all works out. ANYWAY... there is a temple here for monkeys and we went to see the imps at play. OK..not so much at play and not so innocent in all their frolicking. Scott was jumped on from the back because they want whatever food we may carry with and Nick was bit...well, attacked with an open mouth. Fortunately, small boy moves quicker then mad monkey. I kept my distance, talked quietly and firmly to all these monkeys with attitudes. This day was full of other interesting events as well. We went to a Bali dance, the volcano and rice paddies, coffee and spice plantation and then finally home. Just a few more days and we will be flying home. As the time gets closer we become more and more ready. Today the boys are putting in their last surf, Mijo and myself may just get our hair done. We also have a lot on our minds...things are brewing.

Boys on the Beach

Of all the things we have done so far I think surfing has counted the most points. Scott had done some in Papua as did Nick, here it is made for surfing and they were having a wonderful time. Mijo attempted...it looks easier then reality. There was some frustration in the water when she attempted to get on the "stupid" board. Me, I am still trying to learn so many different things that to begin something else would just frustrate me with just another thing I don't do well enough to enjoy. It was fun to cheer from the beach and rejoice with every standing moment. We have been looking and shopping and resting and wishing everything would just slow down a bit. I am getting tense just thinking about the the drive up I5 and wondering if we can in anyway settle back in. Hoping that some will come by and tell us we were missed. That my house will wrap us up in the warm memories we left and be that safe place again for all that we will begin again. It looks easy but I think the reality may be different.

You figure it out

When we landed in Timika waiting for our luggage I saw this sign and realized that this is the definition of me. Am I domestic, do I belong here or am I a foreigner...always it seems, but the last one...for sure, it seems I am always a passenger, on the way somewhere.

We have been in Bali for a few days and if there was phrase to describe our stay here it would be be Bali...For Sale! On the way to WaterBom yesterday about 6 taxi drivers asked if we needed a driver, 5-6 people were trying to kidnap us to hear a time share pitch (Don't even get me started on that), every person from every store was pushing their wares and then if we had not had enough, we had people following us asking for our attention for a survey, or service they were trying to sell. As we sat down to watch the sunset we were surrounded by 4 people trying to sell, jewelry, mats, hair braiding and massages. We were supposed to go to a movie but I had about enough. I can't see coming to Bali to take a vacation, right now I am more stressed then I have been in a long time. I hate being rude but it seems that being rude is the only no these sellers listen to. Then on top of all of that there are beggars on the road, prostitutes in the alleys, and idols being worshiped at every street corner...Don't you want to come? Maybe we are not at the right place. yet or not seeing the right thing yet...we are moving away from center city and maybe out of here we will see what Bali is all about.

Freeport Mining Country

We went to see the MINE...and felt like we were in a different country. Seriously I do not have much time to write right now...my battery is very low..I am in a hotspot in a minimart in Bali and we need to get going. We got here...not that impressed yet with Bali...will tell you more in a few.

Leaving on a jet plane,

don't know when I'll be back again, oh I hate to go. All my bags are packed I'm ready to go....
The Muslim prayer call woke me up at 4:15 this AM and I have not been able to go back to sleep. Mijo came home crying again last evening..she will be crying again this morning. All her friends are coming to the airport to say good-bye. I am doing OK...These next few days of adventure will help in the transitions. Then we live in obligation to commitments we have made, but for now there is a time delay. Our plane leaves at 9:20 this morning and again I am amazed at the amount of stuff we have even though we have given most of everything away, well...obviously not everything.
Next stop Timika and the mine at Tembagapura.

Breathe in...Blow out

If we had not invested in anybody here in Papua, we would not be having such a hard time leaving. If we had kept tight to our homes and schedules we would not have had to cry as hard or hurt as much. BUT..we woul d be very much like these dolls in the window. Just looking in...is the pain of leaving worth the joy of investment? Absolutely! Souls invested are souls enriched.

Breathe in...Blow out. These are the last few days. All the hoopla of graduation, parties, banquets etc., all done. Good-byes, the last of's, we will never again do...done. Now we are trying to figure out how all our stuff multiplied and we are going back with as many pieces of luggage as we had coming. We are blowing out at the moment... de-compressing from all the intensity of the last few days.

Many have asked me what I will take away from here...Maybe finally for the first time in my life I can be more then just an MK. This is important to me that my history does not limit me from living in the present. Having been here in the Great Thief of a country (takes much without asking) I realize that the truth of what I became here cannot give me the boundaries that I have to live in now. I am much more then just an MK, just a mixed up, global, cultural miss fit...I am good to go in spite of and because of previous reality. I am loved by the only Constant in my life, I am good with Him no matter the geography, job or lack of, history and/or heritage. We are all awkward in some way where we live and how we live. None of us are baggage free...we all need help carrying each others stuff.

Breathing in and blowing out...

Twilight...

I went down to get a shirt that was being made for me out of Batik material. It has been in the making for about 3 weeks now. What I did wrong from the get go...I told them I wasn't in a hurry. They have taken this to heart and had not started until we came down to see if they were done. You know something is off when you come in to pick up your clothes and they are working on the shirt as you walk in. The were very nice though...they pulled out a stool for me to sit on and wait. I don't wait well....I went back out and got more done and came back 45 minutes later. The reason they had kept this shirt for all this time is that I needed it to be made larger...well, they made it smaller and tighter and unwearable. Now if I was the size of most Indonesian women it would fit great but as much as I would like to be that petite, I am not. Waiting for nothing...They still have another shirt they are making for me, I don't think they have started and looked a bit surprised when I told them I was leaving this Sunday. I will go and see on Friday and hopefully won't have a small stool to sit on.
Twilight...I have to wait to get the full affect of the sunset. If I run out to get the picture I am always in a quandary if this is the best picture or if I need to sit and wait a few for better colors.
Waiting on God is similar...could the colors get better then this? Have I seen the best of students, the best of experiences...or do I wait and see. Twilight, sunsets and life is like that...sitting still and waiting as He unfolds the colors before my patient eyes.

Dearest Mijo

This was written for her and read at her 8th grade graduation.

Dearest Mijo, OK..so what happened exactly? How did you become so old so quickly. I know you were born just the other day in all your newness and wonder. What an amazing gift you have been, every expression of hope, joy , surprise, despair dances across your beautiful face. We haven't even started to talk about your compassionate, dramatic, gentle spontaneous soul.

When you were 5 years old, you were starting to learn your letter. We were working on your letter C but you kept on writing your C backwards. Finally, after a seeing your backwards C i sat down and explained that the C if you wanted to write it correctly needed to point the other direction. I thought it was a matter of education, you just needed to know the right way of doing things. You looked at me and said, " No, I like my C's to point that direction".
'Well, Mijo, you may like them that way, but there is a rule about how C's are supposed to be written. You can't just change it, you aren't ruler of the universe".
Under her breath she said quietly, "Not yet".
I thought in that moment we were in for a long road ahead. It has been a road but not a long one. We can't imagine our family without you and your dramatic imaginations and consistent love.

We love all that you are and all that you are becoming. We are so proud of you and who you are choosing to be, especially since you have decided Who the Ruler of the universe it and that it isn't you. Dad and Mom

And the trumpet sounded...

With this picture I want you to be able to see what you could never organize or plan. A Messianic Jew named Lou, from New York, blowing the rams horn across Lake Sentani on a hill set apart specially for prayer that had just been opened that morning.
We were a witness and participant to the triumphant sound of victory blowing freedom from sin over the people of Papua. I had to show you otherwise you would have never believed me. We came, we heard, we prayed, we stood in awe, we left and then we pondered...Did we really participate in this Old Testament sound of triumph over the plains of Papua? It seems that the most profound can't be planned, it happens and only after do you realize its significance. We are grateful Lou, you gave us an amazing gift.

Supposed to be fun

I forgot to tell you about our flight to Bokodini. Nick finally was able to sit in the front seat. Of all the flying we have done, he hadn't had a chance and finally after all the flight simulator games he had been playing he was in the real thing. He helped take off, he helped fly while in the air and then...we experienced ...well, let me explain how it went. Doug ( our pilot)wrote us a note asking if it would be OK to have a bit of fun and have a weightless experience there in the air. I had heard about this but never experienced it and right away thought it might not be such a good idea. Scott was all for it...Yes, lets do it, so we did.

What this involves is going up for a bit then going down for a bit..a lot like a roller coaster. I don't like roller coasters, Nick does not like roller coaster, Scott loves roller coasters. Needless to say as we began and finished this experience in the air, I was terrified and Nick...lets just say, I think he likes the simulator experience a bit better. What may have happened and I am hoping it didn't is that now Nick has a fear of flying. On the way from Wamena we experienced some turbulence, I hate flying and then I saw the same fear written across the face of my son. I have learned this fear from my mom and in that moment I saw what I had transferred to mine. So where do I go from here, how do I ungive this gift that keeps on giving? Especially now on the cusp of so much traveling. It isn't really what I want my son to learn from me...Any advice?