Waiting

Waiting...I have decided that it isn't such a bad thing after all. Who knows what will wander into your pathway while you sit, ponder, wait and wonder. The view from this house was the whole pig feast in motion. He was waiting for all the work to be done and the meal to be ready. Not a bad place to wait and wonder and ponder.
I wait for the bread to rise, it takes me a good 3 hours to get it all done from flour to loaf. I take naps, read books, watch a movie, talk to family but really I am waiting. Waiting for the next step in the process while the yeast and oven do all the work. I wonder if maybe that is what waiting on God looks like...what will I do, where will we go, how will we afford...Maybe after all the ingredients are together, I am in the waiting part of the process.
Scott and I are going to visit Scott and Heidi. Scott and Heidi work in an amazing discipleship ministry in Bokodini with Eduventure. We are taking a few days this weekend to see and hear and wonder. Go figure another couple with our names. So as we wait we wander and wonder...

Paradox of Papua

This may be a long post so just bear with me. Waking up on Saturday mornig I could have been anywhere in the world. Scott and I slipped away for a day to a nice hotel in Jayapura. With the drapes closed, we could have been anywhere in the world. On the way home we picked up some pizza from a new pizza joint at the PCT...this pizza joint was established in Vancouver, BC. Good ole thin crust pizza with cheese and pepperoni and an iced coffee on the side. Scott could have picked up some french bread at the new bread place in the mall but we had made bread before we left. The kids were playing on the PC when we got home and after we payed the babysitter we watched Fellowship of the Rings. Remember where we are? On the way out of the PCT ( huge shopping area ) they were setting up for a Christian concert that evening. Lyrics from some WOW CD was playing over the sound system. We could easily live an easy lifestyle of western comfort and forget where we are but never what we are.

Yesterday, right after church the assistant head of security of the new mall here in Sentani came by for a visit. As we sat and chatted with a mixture of English and Indonesian he proceeded to tell us how he keeps order in the Mall. He calls it the dog and the snake. When they are caught depending on the infraction they get to go outside and meet the angry dog or stay inside with a hissing snake. He was clear to let me know that he never slapped people around but he does have his 'heavy' who seemsto enjoy roughing people up. I asked him if they have trouble with thieves..'no', he said. I wonder why not. He was the man instrumental in helping us out when we had that run-in with Mijo and the crazy man. He lauged as he demonstrated how scared these petty thieves can become.

The paradox of Papua is that nothing is as it appears. A new steakhouse and a pastry shop in a brand new Mall where thieves are beaten up and tied up until they promise to pay or never come back. Flush with money yet stuck in poverty. There are more churches here then most towns in the US, yet so many many western missionaries. A Muslim country but breaking apart because of alcoholism and glue sniffing. So intensly beautiful but trash is thrown everywhere so beaches are rated by the garbage factor. Burning garbage polutes the evening sky making each sunset subdued in its beauty and stings your eyes even as you sleep. You would never catch a husband and wife holding hands but just today we had a SanFran moment during a childrens parade. Transvestites decided to have a coming out party and pranced behind in all their confusing-ness. This is a mans world here yet I have seen more fathers holding, taking care and being attentive of their small children then in any town in America.

Papua...every day it gets more confusing.

The four of us

So which sarong belongs to which of us? After a day at the beach we hang up our sarongs to dry before we wash them. Each of us use out sarongs for different reasons. I wear mine to cover up on the way to the beach and on the way back. Scott uses his on the boat ride back to keep the sun off his shoulders and neck. Nick...I have no idea why he even brings a sarong along other then we all do and he does not want to be left out. Mijo...sun protection as well as a cover up for her bathing suit. As we hang together on the line and at the beach our personalities blend together. Scott in his particular way of keeping order, Mijo and her daydreams and drama, Nick and his boyish wonder and lack of expertise and me...I am the joyful participant in seeing how God is knitting us together. We are hanging well together in all our individual differences and the four of us are also getting ready to go in all our different ways.

We are gearing down in a serious way..we are finding buyers for our bike, searching for a home for our cat, visiting our last station, buying our last curios, finding hotels in Bali and Jogjakarta, setting up our trip back home, and hoping we take enough pictures of the right things. Mijo is crying at weird things here and there but then she did the same when we left Lynden, Nick is thinking about school and football, Scott is wondering about work and I am wishing being here would last just a bit longer.

The most dominant feeling though I think is gratefulness...we are so very grateful for the gift of this year.

Building Sand Castles....at high tide

When we get to the beach which is always at high tide Nick will build a sand fort/castle/encampment/large sand structure. It will then be swept away just as quickly because...it is high tide and the beach is only so big. Maybe, that is the challenge of it all and the fun of it all. Sometimes he gets far enough away to make something quite elaborate but it will be swept away sooner then later. It happens, we expect it so we don't agonize over the inevitable destruction.

This week I found out that the hopes of a better job at LC was washed away. I had built quite a substantial castle on that hope that when I returned from the wonder year here, I would again be able to teach, invest in, dive in and build. Just like that the tide came in via email and washed away the incentive..that hope.

I am beginning to think that a lot of what we build on is a sand castle at high tide. Just recently in the life of my family high tides has been washing a lot of dreams away. I keep thinking that God is the tide out there waiting for a good dream to ruin but that just shows my lack of perspective. He isn't the High Tide, He never wanted me to build on the sand in the first place. It isn't about the sand castle or the high tide which is inevitable in this falling apart world of ours...It is though about me. Nothing is permanent, nothing except the relationships we build and the Relationship we have.

It isn't about the sand castle that Nick and I enjoy at the beach..it is about him showing me what he built, it is about us spending time together, it is about watching it all being washed away.

I am terrible disappointed , I invested a lot of time in building that castle at LC in my mind. I am working through how to trust God with what else to do while I sit way over here.

He knows..He loves...He watches...me.

Tournament Time

Could have been anywhere, lots of teenagers cheering on their teams with enthusiasm and gusto. Except it was here in Papua. Basketball is becoming a big sport or has been and I am just seeing it for the first time. We had a tournament this past week, players playing to the crowd, tight scores, injuries, bad calls and exciting games. There were some differences though, we had bats flying in the gym, the calls were made in Indonesian, the audience was markedly young and Asian, the westerners were outnumbered but not out yelled. It helps when you have musical instruments. We wanted to do the wave but it never went beyond our section. We had quite a few stares when we attempted to have them join us.
The tournament started on Wednesday afternoon and ended on Saturday night. One of the games our girls team was playing quit playing in the third quarter. The coach was incensed that both his key players had fouled out. After much talking, waving and gesturing his team packed up and walked off the court. Not only did his team play mean, his main players had been shown much grace not to have fouled out sooner. That was interesting. The boys team showed as much drama. There was some exceptional players, especially this one little dude named 3lly..I have no idea what that stands for but that is what he had on the back of his shirt. He could not have been any taller the 5'6 but man he could move and man did he know it. There was much confidence and arrogance in his play. During the championship game he was hurt about 5 times, hurt so much so that he had to be carried off the court. AMAZINGLY though, in about 3 minutes he was ready to play again. I think he had forgotten what sport he was playing. Soccer injuries to delay the game works in soccer, in BB it just looks funny. He was fun to watch but oh so very irritating. We lost to that team twice...unfortunately. The girls won first place in tournament and the boys took second.
Scott has gone to Merauke for a few days. It is way down the south coast and in swamp country. He is doing a welding project for MAF.

Singing to Sophie

I did something the other night I have not done in about 10 years. I sang a baby to sleep. This little jewel to be exact. I was babysitting for a couple on their anniversary and just like that as she was laying in my arms and I began to sing the very same lullaby I sang to Mijo and Nick, she fell asleep. It is one of those things you can't plan to happen, most often they fuss but not this time and it was such a gift to me. I have no idea why I am writing about this on a blog about my time here in Papua. Maybe because it made my whole week...All she did was sleep, all I did was sing and yet in that moment of time I was given something special and for that I am grateful and I wanted you all to know.

Broken arms

In the school at this moment we have 6 arms in casts on 3 students. There has been a rash of school accidents but what makes this remarkable is that when you want to get good care for your broken arms you have to fly to Singapore. That would be like me in Lynden flying to Chicago to get my arm cast. These are young kids still growing and 2 of them with both arms in casts. The one broke both of them at the same time, the other broke his other arm protecting his broken arm while he was falling. There are facilities here, hospitals and all but not quite what may be needed to get it set the best way. The little boy who broke his arm went to the hospital here and the doctor said he would not fix the freshly broken arm unless he could re-set the other broken arm. He was thinking that the other one wasn't set quite the way it was supposed too. One arm in a cast, in a cool climate is do-able. A cast on each arm in a warm humid climate...not so easy.
The nurses here are pretty amazing in all that they do when they do not have a Doctor at hand and even when one is. It has been more then impressive how they treat and take care of the myriad of things that can go on here in Sentani. Not only have they had these broken arms to contend with but ringworm infestation, malaria, dengue, flu, stitches, bronchitis, and many more things I know nothing about...thankfully. I may keep there phone numbers in mind when we come back to the States...they might know more about what is going on with us then the doctors there.

Hands

I collect shells, rainbows, and pictures of hands. I always thought of myself as a non-collector but it seems to be otherwise. This little old lady was sitting next to me in a church service. She was wearing a traditional grass skirt with a dirty shirt. She sat to my left and to my right was a little bitty boy trying hard to figure out what to so with my very unusual face. This lady smiled shyly at me but kept her peace and sat with folded hands through most of the service. He hands intrigued me...how many children had she fed in her lifetime, how many potatoes dug up from how many gardens, how many fires had she stoked, pigs had she stroked and how many wounds had she tended. She listened quietly to the service with folded hands...intently listening to the words of the Pastor, not at all distracted by me who was distracted by her.
Women here in Papua are busy, they work hard all the time and this woman was no exception. They carry the wood, dig up the gardens, feed the family, care for the pigs, raise the children and everything else that would make traditional Papuan family function in Papua. When I was in the Mbua I spoke to a womans group about how amazed I was at the Nduga woman, her strength, her humility, her courage. Really...what could I say! I have so much to make my life easier...the least is technology the most is a culture that allows me opportunities. Here..not so much. So these hands are a reminder to me not only of what I have but of what she doesn't.

A year together

In the 5.5 years Scott and I have been married we haven't had a year where we have spent the whole year together. His job has taken him away for a month here and there and one year he spent the whole year away and came home on the weekends. This is the first year we have been day in and day out face to face together. Good news...we still like each other :)
We have had to learn some things though and in that learning maybe when all is said and done and we look back on this year we will realize how amazing it was that God would let us have this year to learn why He put us together. We seem to be good for each other but sheesh can he be stubborn ... I am thinking he thinks the same about me. Scott was single until he married me at 40, I came in with truck loads of baggage and yet in all of this God says..be married and deal with your unbelievable selfishness. All of you marrieds know how painful it is to realize that awful truth and slowly extricate yourself from yourself.
So when you run into some problems here in Papua...there is nobody you can go to, we don't have a Pastor, counselor, family and even good friends. So when Scott and I face each other on those days when all our selfishness collide...we only have each other and the One who put us together. Remember the stubbornness...I am so glad that the Truth trumps tired grumpy feelings. We have learned so much at being married, we kind of have to play catch up to be the parents that Mijo and Nick need and this year we are given that chance.