Christmas opine

This year I have gone overboard with the gifts and the spending. Not so much with the baking and the family time or the parties and the decorations...buying gifts and spending money that has been my evil bent this Christmas season. I don't know if it is evil but I am sure we can all make the case that this is probably the least meaningful part of the Christmas season. I don't know though...being able to buy gifts for my kids and husband brings me much joy. I know I should do more for the less fortunate and we do here and there but never to the extent that we could. I know I should probably make more of an effort to connect with my extended family...but they are far away not only physically but relationally as well. I should, I could but I am responding rather then initiating and as a result not really busy. I haven't even spent a lot of time in the Christmas story...here and there with some thoughts and ideas but nothing like I used too as you can tell with the amount of posts. I have enjoyed evening with Scott around the fireplace watching a random show or movie. I have neither overextended myself or even indulged in too much in food. I haven't gone to many parties or invited any one over.

It has been a wonderful season.

Mijo has been out a lot and Nick has been working and playing his Xbox game...but they are here and their presence fill in the quiet.

It has been a wonderful season...but, and there always is a but.

I wish for connections, involvement, community outside my immediate family. But wishing and wanting is only good if it motivates to action...not so much yet. I should...I guess, but like family relationships I am also responding rather then initiating.

I maybe should have, could have or would have...I just didn't. It is a wonderful season and I wish you all a Merry Merry Christmas...and an amazing New Year. Thank you for reading my many ramblings, this is an ongoing gift to me. Let's see what happens next...

Silent night Holy night

What makes something holy? When is there glory? What is a spiritual experience? What prayers are heard? What is my dream? What do I still want to do? What do I want? When will what is comfortable and predictable give me a rash? What does normal look like?

When it is a silent night...it isn't in my head !

a conversation

In class the other day we moved from count and non-count nouns to belief in the after life. How we moved in that direction I don't know but I have a great belief in the power of the rabbit trail style of teaching. Not all the time but occasionally rabbit trails lead to the best kind of conversations. As we talked around the table the conclusion was, 2 did not believe in anything in the after life, 2 in reincarnation and then there was me.

" I believe in Science, but I have much respect for religion" one said apologetically. "No problem", I said..." I believe in God, and have much respect for science"...we both laughed. We talked about being afraid of dying and what it would mean to be reincarnated. One of the students asked how reincarnation could be possible since we have so many more people now then before. I told her there must have been some really good animals who moved on to being human. Everything was casual and informative...as the bell rang to end class a student asked, "Why do you believe in God, teacher?"

I don't think I have even been asked that question. I don't even know a time when I did not believe in God...but why do I believe?

I read somewhere that the simplest reason to believe in God was to have someone to thank..often that is good enough for me. Other times I need a bigger story to make sense of all the smaller stories or the complicated reasons to make sense of morality and justice. These are reasons why I believe. These are not the only reasons. I could not even begin to tell this student why...she had to go to class and I was left with a sense that I had lost an opportunity.

It does not matter if and why I believe ultimately...but I had better know.

I wish I had known enough to say...I believe in God simply because of Jesus.

For the Mighty One has done Great things for me

His mercy Extends
He has performed Mighty deeds
He has brought down rulers
He has filled the hungry
He has helped his servant Israel

It would be so great if God would do His Mighty things here at LC. The lethargy towards the things of God translated to everyday behavior is conspicuously absent. AS I write this blog I hear in the background the students singing in chapel. This particular expression of worship is the most visible aspect of these kids faith. I am often surprise who is singing, who is raising their hands when in the hallways not 5 minutes later they are swearing, slandering and complaining. The leap from one act of worship to the next expression of worship is sadly unconnected. How we treat each other being that other expression of worship. When we look at the Mighty one...we have to at the same time honor the created one. If and when students and staff would get this..I believe the Mighty things of God would commence.

Favor

Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be....

All he said was" Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you."

Gabriel is having a hard time communicating his intent to the people on his list. He just finished with Zechariah and said one sentence to Mary and she is greatly troubled already. He hasn't even told her what she really should be troubled at... the BIG news hasn't come out yet.

The next thing he says is..."Do not be afraid, Mary you have found favor with God."

If the first thing I heard from an Angelic being was that I was highly favored and the Lord was me...I don't think I would be troubled or afraid, I think I would be encouraged. Finally I would know for sure that God loves me and has a wonderful plan for my life.

Favored though is a different kind of word then love. Favored kind of has the flavor of chosen and maybe that is why Mary felt a bit troubled. She knew her peoples history of what it means to be chosen, of the few who were asked to do something for the Almighty. It usually isn't easy!

Maybe it was like being asked to do God a favor...Mary, would you do me a HUGE favor and carry my son? But not really...God wasn't asking Mary but telling her. There wasn't an option for Mary to negotiate. She asked some clarifying questions and said, "Ok...may it be as you said. I am the Lord's servant." I like her, this Mary who has been worshiped, revered and honored since this time. I like her because she said yes even though she knew what the consequences were. Her courage and determination in the face of what was to come...Her life from that moment would never be the same. Her relationships, her standing in her community, her future ...everything from that yes forward would take her into His favor.

Bravo Mary !

Taking away my disgrace

"In these days he has shown he has shown his favor and taken away my disgrace among the people." Elizabeth's sigh

The spilling over of God's plan involved an old couple, a disgraced woman and a longing fulfilled. God could have chosen another...but like his MO from old he chose a barren woman to carry the special child. Think...Sarah, Rebeca, Rachel...

A silent husband...a beaming mother to be. It was her time to shine and husband could not do a thing about it. I have a feeling that Zechariah was a wonderful man....he had not left his barren wife and remained faithful all his days...BUT maybe with this position as a priest and the smallness of the community, he might have had a lot to say about a lot of things.

He could not talk...Elizabeth had the floor...but she went into seclusion. Silent husband, hidden away wife... pregnancy at an advanced age...this is the Talk of the Town but no one is talking. My the rumors must have flown...

There is an awkwardness with those who can't have children. Do you invite them to the shower? Do you tell them about your 2nd pregnancy? It is a silent SCREAM...Elizabeth must have withstood a lot of questions, awkward silences, changes the subject for many years. She must have come to an understanding, a way to letting people know that she rejoiced with them in their wonderful news but that she still was sad and embarrassed that she could not produce a new life in her womb. How God knows how women on the inside feel...He restores an old woman's reputation while 6 months later...destroys a young woman's...Go figure !

It was a conversation between the two of them...God and his daughter. What a time of giggling and wonder must have occurred as her heart overflowed. She could not talk to her husband...she talked to her Maker. Secrets of the best kind !!!

A labor of love this journey of hope...He still does this, this taking away of disgrace. You have had those conversations in secret places. It is why you smile at odd times...and breath deep even now.

Well, shut my mouth! Luke 1:19

How can I be sure of this? I have an excuse not to believe what you say can be true...I am an old man and my wife is well along in years...

That was really nice for Zechariah not to call Elizabeth old...well along in years sounds so much better. Zechariah had just been told that he was going to have a baby boy after all these years and no matter how scary and amazing that angel's message was... his first reaction is...I really don't think what you say is true.

I AM GABRIEL (little human who should know better). I STAND IN THE PRESENCE OF GOD AND HAVE BEEN SENT TO SPEAK TO YOU AND TO TELL YOU THIS GOOD NEWS. (unbelievable this priest...he comes once in his lifetime before the altar and I stand before the Almighty every moment...how can he not believe what I say is true? I'll show him that being afraid is normal behavior...but unbelief is nothing to ignore) AND NOW YOU WILL BE SILENT AND NOT ABLE TO SPEAK UNTIL THE DAY THIS HAPPENS BECAUSE YOU DID NOT BELIEVE MY WORDS, WHICH WILL COME TRUE AT THEIR PROPER TIME.

I know that Gabriel did not shout...but I am sure there was a tone.

How can I be sure that God loves me...How can I really be sure that I am God's workmanship, created to do God's work...How can I be sure that All things work together for good...How can I be sure that His mercies are new every morning...How can I be sure that really all have sinned and fall short...How can I can be sure that there is no condemnation...How can I be sure...

It is amazing we are not all mute !

Oh Zechariah

I love this man because he was doing everything right even when nothing was going right for him. My theme this Christmas is hope and the verse that I am going to refer to often is in 1 Thess. 1:3.

Work produced by faith, labor prompted by love and endurance inspired by hope.

Now there was a priest named Zechariah and his wife Elisabeth..both of them were upright in the sight of God, observing all the Lord's commandments and regulations blamelessly...but they had no children.
Work produced by faith...Zechariah and Elizabeth. Doing all the right things but not getting the right rewards. They had no children because Elisabeth was barren AND now there was no hope because they were both well along in years.

I like that they are still faith full even in their disappointment. That in the unwrapping of the spectacular gift of all gifts, God chose to spill his wonder over on this faithful little old family. I must say that of all the Christmas stories, this one says more about the character of God then the Wise men or shepherds, Angels or even Mary and Joseph.
He gets chosen by lottery to go into the temple of the Lord to burn incense..he meets Gabriel one of the three named angels of the Bible...but we will go into that a little later.
Today...work produced by faith. Hope in the hopeless, faithful in disappointment...trusting anyway. Hope is colored by disappointment...they walk together those seeming antonyms. God knows...and in the expanse of human history He sees your faithfulness...don't loose heart...not yet.

a beacon of hope

It does not happen often but once in awhile when the sun comes up over Mt. Baker...the shadow of the mountain separates the sunrise and we have a beacon of sorts displayed across the morning sky.

This is Christmas...that piercing of history, that separation of time, that beacon of hope in every sunrise.

I wish Christmas was more simple and less complicated. I know that much of it has to do with how we approach this season, but one can't help but hear the GREAT sucking noise of the retail giant as it pulls us in as much as possible into excess. Thanksgivings leanings into gluttony is outpaced by Christmas' headlong tumble into greed and avarice. We are bent to excess this nature of ours. The mockery of what was to what we have done can't be more obvious in the displays of the simple nativity scene...for pete's sake...mine is white porcelain and I am sure would have been quite expensive if I had not rescued it from the garbage.

Every year I wrestle with this monster...I like that we as a culture celebrate, I hate that we can't do it restrained. I hate the frenetic pace, the running around looking for peace and joy...when those two are never found but always follow. I love the lights in this dark season and the relentless music pulsating in every store and radio station...but I think we have become louder and harried and restless and worried. I don't mind even that we have stolen from pagan celebrations and redeemed it somehow...I do mind when we think Christmas in its present form is somehow a holy holiday.

In its simplicity it is about hope. Hope that this baby being born, like every baby born in its uncomplicated smallness will grow up into something wonderful. This baby born 2000 years ago in his uncomplicated and simple smallness grew up and continues to pierce every morning with hope. This beacon ... this hope...I will follow in this season of excess, finding it piercing even the darkness of this holiday.

In passing

One of my host mothers is driving home from school with her Chinese 'daughter'. They are looking out the window at a woman walking her dog. Student says,"That's what I want, to walk humbly with my dog."

Teachers as human beings

In class yesterday I told my students what it felt like when they were deliberately dis-respectful. In this particular case a student took out his cell phone and started texting. The whole texting in class has been a cat and mouse game for teachers and students. Who can text without the teacher catching you. It is a game and I know it is being played every day in every class with every teacher. As teachers we get so upset but don't seem to think twice when we do it in church, in a conversation with a friend, in the car, at the check out...This new technology that has invaded every space, keeping up with inane conversations that mean so little but take so much.
My students were quiet but I am sure as with all lectures it flows over and out. I will be taking their phones at the start of class. I wish that the title of teacher carried more respect but maybe the matter of our humanness will affect more change. I appealed to our common humanity at the end...our common desire for respect, a listening ear, a caring concern. I don't think it will change anything but if I have their phones in hand...one less distraction will help.

Dear Old Dad

It is his birthday today...a grand 81 years of age. He is such a gift. A gentle man who has loved well, served consistently, honored my mom and Elfrieda with integrity, carried his grief with humility, loved us kids and our spouses unconditionally, followed Jesus wholeheartedly and has lived with true elegance. This man is my Dad...how I love him.
Happy Birthday dear old Dad .

The problem with Envy

We have a dog who is content, that would be Chino. We give him a bone to chew...he sits down and chews it. We have a dog that is never OK with the bone we give her, wants the bone we give to Chino and protects but won't chew hers, this would be Mocha. Whatever Chino has, Mocha wants. She shivers, shakes, growls until we take both the bones and put them away. Right away Mocha relaxes...I think she tells herself...At least no one gets the bone, any bone.

The problem with envy isn't only that we are not content or grateful for what we have, we don't want anybody else to have it either. Mocha would rather not have her wonderful bone if there is any chance that Chino might have a bone as well.

Envy is one of the Big Ten of Do Not's. I see the result of it every day played out in my living room. Chino lives in the joy of the moment, gives and takes freely, chews and enjoys whole heartedly. Mocha..can't enjoy what she has and stresses every moment what Chino has.

I think this is envy...I know it destroys. Every day I have to take away from Chino because Mocha can't deal. Both of them loose out ...that's the problem with envy.

When it rains...

A young MAF mechanic in Sumatra, out for a day at the beach drowns while trying to save another. One wife, one young son left behind.

A good friend asked not to participate in something she is very very good at...strong arm tactics.

A volleyball player from a nearby school on the way to a game is struck from behind into oncoming traffic and looses all of her 16 years.

My Dad who struggles to get well from something that is nebulous and uncertain.

This weight of sadness...who can carry.

On another note

I sit and wonder why this information is so relevant to me....I think it is because we never really heard if from our mom (heard some of it) but that if it wasn't important to her...why should it be important to us. OR...I just miss my mom after all these years. As I ponder my daughter I realize no one ponders me...It is OK to miss your Mom no matter how much time passes.

My mom's mom

I don't think any of my family reads my blogs anymore and since I don't seem to talk to any of them very much either this seems to be the only place I can talk about my Mom. I don't hang around anybody that knew her or remembers her but just yesterday we got some information about her and her mom that was so cool and interesting. I have no desire to talk to my brothers about it all...but talking to you...somehow it is safe. Please indulge this family history I just learned.

Camille Montet was my grandmother. She was a 'love child' of a Brazilian diplomat and her socialite mother. Since her mother had married well, this was not a good thing so Camile was raised by foster parents in Normandy. When she turned 9 her mother came and got her and then lived with her from age 9-21. Her mothers name was Madame Leuiset. When she was 21 she looked for her foster family back in Normandy. She went to midwifery school at a Catholic school in a large castle and having earned her credentials went on to deliver 20, 000 french babies and lost only 2.

Camille married Albert and good looking philanderer who was a painter, an artist and a performer. Albert came from a Russian/French background but then everyone in France comes from mixed blood. ( this is told from her daughter My only living Aunt). During WWII when the imminent invasion was to occur Camille and her 5 children moved to Marsaille , then Geneva and then settled in Grenoble and became an Administrator in an orphanage for young women who had children without husbands. Because she received food stamps she was able to help many during the war and took part in the underground railroad helping Jews to make it the Holy Land. My mom and her brother were in Switzerland at this time as many children were put out of harms way. They lived so high up in the mountains that there were no trees and Mijo (my mom) was a shepherdess. My Grandmother had Yves, Michelle, Mijo & Camille, and Marie-Therese. My grandmother outlived 4 of her children. Camille, Mijo's twin, died of an ear infection. Yves, died when he fell off a roof when he was in his early 20's. Michelle died of bone cancer when she was in her 40's and Mom died when she was 52. My Grandmother died a few years ago which leaves my Aunt who lives presently in Erie, PA.

As my mother grew up, she was sad and morose. When Camille came to the Lord she had joy and this was true of my Mom who came to Christ when she was 15. She went on to a technical college to become a chef...but somewhere along the way she found herself at Bible college in Paris, met my Dad and the rest is history. She ended up so far away from her precious mother in a land so utterly foreign raising 4 of her own children.

What a legacy I carry from all these amazing, colorful, heroic , accomplished women...I can't help but feel that I have done so little in comparison.

Good wine and God's glory

John 2 The changing of the water to wine.



" But you have saved the best till now !"

This, the first of his miraculous signs...He thus revealed His glory and his disciples put their faith in him.

This makes me smile, God's glory revealed in good wine.

God's glory revealed in taking away a lack of preparation by the host.

God's glory revealed in making his mother happy.

God's glory revealed in a marriage ceremony.

God's glory revealed in a recognition of cultural expectations.

God's glory revealed in elevating and making right an embarrassing moment.

Result: Disciples put their faith in him...

God's glory is not that complicated...maybe when we

help elevate an embarrassing moment

do something for our parents

understand a relevant cultural happening and abide and give respect

come alongside a harried co-worker and lessen their load

drink some good wine in good company at a good celebration

we in turn glorify God and our faith is visible.

HOME

He is and will be now for awhile....exhale....Scott that is.

Hedging the bets

Yesterday in class a student was talking about his bad luck. In his broken English he was telling us that even though he prayed he has much bad luck. He had lost in playing his xbox games, it had rained when he left the Y so his ride home was wet but the worse was that he had gone to the bathroom and while there realized that there was no toilet paper. To make matters worse, there were no males in the house he could call to deliver the toilet paper since they had gone hunting. He was left with only females which he could never ask to deliver the TP...he got stuck twice not having TP. "Bad-luck, I have to take two showers. But I pray", he wondered.

"So, who are you praying to?" I ask... knowing that he is not a believer."God and Buddha" he said."Buddha lets us talk to anyone".

So what do I do with that?

Might as well be me

In my last post I shared how difficult it is to talk about our personal faith...I might as well start. As you know by now Scott has been working away from home for about 8 months now. The last 7 weeks he has not been able to come home on the weekends because he has been working 12 hour days seven days a week. It is harvesting season , it will come to an end but I am finding something strange happening in our relationship. We talk to each other every day but we have less to say. His world and my world don't Venn diagram anymore. We have no intersecting areas, not even with the children. I can try and explain what is going on here and he there but the distance has become more then just miles. It isn't lack of interest or lack of love or lack of anything but time together. When you are in sync with someone, communication isn't difficult. Scott and I are out of sync which a week together will remedy. Don't know if that would help with my relationship with God.

The verse in Psalms that tells us to be still and know...that wonderful verse that puts our life on necessary pause...In Hebrew 'be still' means 'Enough' ! Enough and Acknowledge that I am God...not so much a necessary pause but an abrupt command. Stop it...Stop musing, commiserating, doubting, wondering, wishing, wandering away...Enough! Acknowledge God for not being what you expect, not running to your every whim, bigger and better then you imagine, not Santa Clause, apart from your human imagining, outside of it all and inside all at the same time, Macro and Micro, the Grand story of Time and the intimate story of place...

What I know about Scott belays any fears of distance and being out of sync. I know his loyalty to me and his love for me...I know we will both work hard to get back on the same page.
God is asking me to do the same about Him...Enough already , know me..we can get back on track, Anytime!

A safe place

In class we were discussing normative behavior at LC, this is my Psychology class. A comment by one of the students struck me. "There really are no safe places to express what you really think or feel. One way or the other you will be judged or talked about for what you really think."

I have two Dutch boys in class and they were bemoaning the fact that here in America we all seem so afraid to really say what we are thinking...about politics, religion and sex. I think what we are most afraid to really talk about is our faith...I know this is true in my classes in this Christian school. If I want to shut down a class room quickly all I have to do is ask people to say something personal about their faith. Some will talk about politics, social issues, drinking habits even their sexual escapades but they won't broach their faith with any ten foot pole. It is private, personal and none of your business.

There is a lot of Dutch in me in that I have no hesitation about telling people what I think. I do it less and less though because I have come to realize that so much of the time we aren't really listening to each others point of view but waiting for our soap box to preach. I really don't mind a good discussion about opposing view points but it gets so personal so soon that it is better for the discussion not to even begin. It is kind of sad because we are not listening and learning from each other. We are not being that iron that sharpens iron.
I agree with those students...I also wonder where the safe places are for us adults?

Not talking enough

Scott has been away from home a long time. He used to come home on weekends but for about 5 weeks now he has been away. I have gone to see him for an evening but for the most part...I have been alone with my thoughts. Like this tulip petal on the ground...my thoughts when not expressed become quite disconnected. One of my strengths is connectedness...the ability to connect random things, thoughts, happenings, etc. together and make some kind of sense. Another one of my strengths is ideation and intellection...I love to learn new things, think about things and come up with new ideas for about everything.

( Those of you who do not know about these strengths...it is a psychological profile we have done in our school with students and teachers to have a handle of our 5 major strengths out of 37. It has been very helpful in figuring out who we are from our strengths.)

The problem is that my head becomes very full if husband isn't around to talk too....my brain just gets fatter and fatter. I am an introvert by nature...sitting at home with a good book (gathering more ideas and thoughts) then go out and about. All is well and good and balanced only if husband is here to help drain my thoughts and ideas. He has the patience to listen to me and gently let me know how off base I have become or the best to tell me he has never really thought of it that way.

He has been gone too long...I have been thinking too much...fat head needs patient ears !!!!!

Being Mad

Have you ever been mad at someone and know that 1. There really isn't a good reason for you to be mad 2. They don't even know that you are mad at them 3. All the bad feeling you have had for them have been for the most part unspoken and 4. You secretly wish they knew but are happy they don't because otherwise you would have to deal with our own personal issues.

I realize how immature this sounds and passive aggressive but to be honest, this is how I deal with my anger. I have friends who are great unloaders...they tell who they are mad at, what they are mad about and what should be done. I have grudging respect for that but in retrospect maybe the way I deal with my anger is not so bad. Most of my anger towards someone isn't about them, it is about me. Something they have not done for me or should have done or could have done. In our American direct approach we are all for getting it out and dealing with it right away...I am a bit Asian in my approach. First I unload my anger on an innocent bystander ( husband). I see how he reacts to my anger and if he feels as strongly about my offense, then I feel justified. If he looks at me like I am a bit of a loony...well, I swallow my anger and wait till it passes. Just because I am angry does not mean my anger is justified...Just because I feel strongly does not mean that this strength of emotion needs to be unloaded.

I am a great swallower of anger..rarely have I ever unloaded on anyone at all, in fact I can't remember a time when I have. It isn't that I do not get angry, I just never feel that I have the right to fire at will. OK...I must confess, my children have received my anger justified or not. I seem to have no problems letting them know exactly how what they have done or not done has made me feel. Maybe it isn't fair that they see me in all my un-loveliness...maybe they see me for who I really am.

Boy, am I glad that they still love me....

Why are you downcast oh my soul...

A strange word...this downcast...usually we use this in context with where we are looking.
In the context of Psalm 42 the verse I am looking at continues...

My soul is downcast within me; therefore I will remember you from the land of the Jordan, from the heights of Hermon- from Mount Mizar.

Far away from Jerusalem..the place of worship was this land of Jordan and this Mount Mizar. The depth of who I am, my very soul, longs for the depth of God but I am so far far away.

Deep calls to deep in the roar of your waterfalls; all your waves and breakers have swept over me.

No matter what I seem to do, no matter how much my soul pants for God my soul is downcast within me.

What an amazing Psalm of deep longing...and disappointment.
I say to God my Rock, why have you forgotten me? Why...

And there is no answer. The silence of God is terrifying and complete. But it is what it is...

Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise Him...my savior and my God.

I guess it has everything to do where we are looking...Silence does not mean distance.

He smiled

He smiled as he tried to explain what it was about Americans that he found so amazing. By this time I am assuming most of the Chinese and Korean students are entering that phase where missing home is more powerful then being here. "Dream", he said " Americans dream". Good to know, I thought. He smiled really big..."Everyone here has dreams of what to become, big dreams. This I like. In China..we just become ...what is expected."

A long and winding road....

Each of the students that grace my room on any given day come full of issues that they would like me to deal with as soon as possible. The teachers speak too fast, the videos shown in class are too difficult to understand, the books are too complicated and the list goes on. I do what I can but in the middle of it all I keep reminding them...it is going to be difficult remember? It isn't easy for some English speakers to grasp what is going on in class let alone someone from another language group...but you do remember that is won't be easy especially at first...right? No matter what we do to help, it is still difficult. It is still English, it is still another culture, it is still another country. I keep reminding them that it will get easier...your ears will begin to follow the flow of each of your teachers...
Lately in our chapels we have been talked to on numerous occasions now about how badly our reputations are as Christians. No one seems to listen to us, we all have terrible reputations in the culture at large and we are making no impact for lasting change. I realize especially after this week and the 'pastor' in Florida that we have made some really awful publicity stunts...but I am also reminded that Jesus told his followers...we are going to be hated. If we follow Jesus maybe there should be some unease. People seem to like Jesus if you ask the man on the street, they just don't like his followers. I say...it is easy to like Jesus..hard to follow Him. I don't think he wanted to be liked as much as He wanted to be followed. It isn't supposed to be easy...we are very much like the international students here at LC. We are from another culture, speak another language and hopefully have a different perspective on the whole. It isn't supposed to be easy as much as we want it to be...nothing about that Kingdom is easy. It is contrary to everything this world lives for, runs with and loves. As much as we want to be hip, fun, cool and relevant...I think we are supposed to be a bit like how we are coming across. Not the wacky stupid stunts, or the moral majority political agenda...but the I won't live like that, I won't cheat, I won't live for the dollar, I won't make sex cheap, I won't think less of a race, gender, minority , I will be faithful, I will do justice, love mercy and walk humbly. I will follow Jesus and take up his cross and deny myself and all of that isn't easy or popular.

For the International students it will get easier to acclimate to this LC world...for us who want to follow Jesus, it never should.

God speaks " Jesus"

Reading a book on cultural IQ...best example of someone living in a culture not their own...The author wrote this and it keeps resonating with me...

Being 47

On this day we had spent too many hours sleeping on the floor, had wandered too many days in the rain, used too many holes in the ground for a bathroom and I was near the end of whatever rope I was hanging on.

The outside of my world as I turn 47 isn't the same but this is what I feel on the inside. A bit overwhelmed by the immediate pressures and perplexed by the state of affairs in my own mind.

I am very grateful at this time of my life...I am healthy, my children are well, I have the love of my husband, we are able to pay our bills, I really enjoy the job I have teaching but all I seem to see is the number 47 and it being 3 from 50. Why is it that we always wanted to be older when we were younger then all of a sudden we are older and want to be younger. It is as if there was a period of time we were happy to be the age we were but didn't know it at the time.

I want to be good with 47...48..and onward. I want to be sure that at any age is never to old for God to do wonders. I want to know that getting older does not make me irrelevant. I want to always be attractive to my husband. I want to be taken seriously when I say something because of the life I have lived and what I have experienced. I do not want to be marginalized because of my age or my gender or both. I want to be heard. I want the weight of the years to bear witness to God's faithfulness. I want to try new things and listen to advice. I want to love the young , admire the older , and learn from the middle. I want to speak up , speak out and listen carefully.

So a happy 47th..even if the happy part I am not so sure about.

First week...

It was our first week of school and we began well. We have a new Principal, I have a new room, I have a house in dis-array, my husband is gone till October, both my kids are in the high school, both my kids come home around 6 from football and drama, my son fractured his arm...We are all good. When things begin to pile up my body reacts. I get cold sores, my eyes get achy and my back twists in a knot. I am a little overwhelmed with-in the details. I know it is just a matter of getting into a rhythm of sorts and doing what can be done in the time allotted. I find myself at the end of the day wishing I could go to bed at 7 knowing I have to wait till 10.

I am tired for sure but it is the morning I am looking forward to...in the morning I don't feel so overwhelmed as thought the day with all what may happen is there to discover...who knows what will get done, what conversation I will have, what new thing I will learn. It is the night that brings me angst...what I could not do, what was not done, what person I was not able to to talk to, what phone call I did not make, what bill I did not pay.

His mercies are new every morning...I get that. Expectation is a great motivator. It is morning and I have the day ahead of me...I wonder what will get done, what project will be advanced, what message of hope will be communicated. It is what we all have...this day, this very day.

no regrets

is thinking, rethinking, remembering, prioritizing, investing, trying, moving on... everything besides regretting.

This was posted by a friend of mine on her fb page. It is so profound in so many ways that it made me pause. Regret is shame that won't go away, loss that won't stop eating away at every memory, disappointment that has no possible alternative ending. We are told to live life with no regrets but that is nigh impossible and all of us carry some if not the burden of regret into our every year. What if...I should have...book end periods of time which only seem to reflect all our failures and mistakes. Some regret plays itself out every day in consequence. What are we supposed to do with regret?

God regretted making man as He looked at the lengths we would go to run away from all that He is. So regret isn't a sin or a sign of moral failure. God did not make a mistake when He made man but even in His perfect love...our sinfulness gave Him pause. As difficult as it is to regret, it gives us humility.... Not in how we have failed but that we can fail and fail so miserably grants us a true mirror into our soul. We can easily forget, how much we need to be rescued, how everyone is drowning in their own regrets...that humility escapes our outlook and we become arrogant, pious and useless. Regret is humiliating...

No regrets is possible only if we ignore the capacity to sin and are ignorant of our own failures. There is no pain free life...There is forgiveness. Humble yourself the good book says...and He will life you up. Remember regret in light of humility...in that is redemption, the lifting up.

(when I say that God regretted making man which was right before the flood...I am not at all saying that God sinned..or failed...only that the feeling of regret is not in and of itself sinful)

Thank you...

She is a tiny little woman. Hanging on to her son she is about to leave here in Lynden. They have been traveling from the East coast to the West and this is the final stop for her only child. He is one of our wonderful International students from China. He is looking with anticipation at this brand new school, she is only looking at him. We made shaky introduction through the interpreter and as they begin to leave she starts to cry. She grabs my hand and in every tear coursing down her face she is saying to me...please take care of him... "thank you" she says instead..."I will take care of him" I said to her. How could she know how much I understood exactly how both of them feel. How many tears were shed on the airstrip of that tiny little village as we waited for the plane to come and carry us away to boarding school so many years ago.
I hope she knew somehow that I knew what she wanted to say.

Nicklaus Paul

I was really surprised 14 years ago when I found out I was pregnant with this boy. It took so long to get pregnant with Mijo I was sure we were done. If Mijo was a blessing then Nick was the bonus. I have had the privilege of raising a girl and a boy and yes...they are very different. Nick did not have to talk till he was 2...his two moms made sure that every attempt at vocalization was preempted, we already knew what he wanted. Lazy little loved on boy! He is a wonderful person to discover. He is funny at the weirdest times, compassionate, kind and thoughtful. His interests lie in opposition to mine but then he is a boy. He could not wait to embrace Scott after Curtiss passed. I think there was a strong desire to shed some of this female attention he was surrounded by for some good ole male energy. I remember on our wedding day how often he said Dad...for he had been waiting so long to just say those words. He shoots and hunts, plays ball and grunts,, protects and stands up for what is right. He is becoming a man and we watch with much anticipation and pride. Happy Birthday son !

Following

With all the emphasis on leadership these days, I wonder how good we are at following? The ironic part of this is, a great leader has to follow. Listening to and abiding with good advice is an act of following. Acknowledging weakness which graces a humble spirit is a good follower/leader. We are always both...leaders and followers.

I have this aversion to following. I never think anyone knows better how to get somewhere then I do. It is an Achilles flaw in the arrogance of it all and I have and will continue to suffer consequences for that 'aversion'. There is merit in having a critical eye for those who are in front of the pack, keeping them accountable to the principles and visions of the organization/church/team/committee, whatever. There is nothing more frustrating though for someone in leadership who has abided by those principles to have the followers always digging in their collective heels just because they can. Leadership is a title given, trust in direction is a relationship earned. But, if the leader has been placed in leadership by those who we have trusted , it follows that we should follow. I am not talking about politics here...that is a leadership title where trust has to be earned by visible action. We can't 'trust' those who put him there because a majority mind isn't trustworthy.

I am talking about our chosen leaders in the circle of our day to day routines: our work, our church, our homes.

Maybe it is just me, I need to give people the ability to lead me and I need to learn how to follow. I think this shows a respect that I would want if given that leadership role.

Change

This is what I think I need to change...

• My default to hibernation
• My inclination to skepticism
• Snarkiness
• Thinking my opinions matter more then they should
• Faithless-ness

Change always involves buy-in by those who will be most affected. I buy it!

the road ahead

The other day Scott and I were talking about our future and where we think we are going to be in the next 8 years. Mijo and Nick will have both graduated from High school and we will be..well, 8 years older. We had no idea where we would be...and that is a wonderful thought.

Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and light unto my path...

In our culture...planning ahead is a requirement. Think about the insurance plans you now pay into for what may/will/should happen in the future. The classes you take to make what you are planning for happen. We all assume that we can look far enough down the road to make all necessary adjustment in the here and now to make the then and there happy, safe and rewarding. It is a matter of seeming control but it isn't a matter faith. I think we can plan, that is how we are wired...but I think we should plan like the drive we took through Yellowstone.

We arrived at the part at 10:30 PM and had to find our way to our cabin. There are no street lights, or easy road signs, a bit of an oversight I think. All we had was a direction, a promise of a cabin , our 'lamps' for 'feet' and a light for the path. We had 'faith' in the directions we were given and trust in the car we were driving. Outside was the vast unknown of wild Yellowstone. I think this is what faith looks like. We know our destination, we have our directions, we enjoy the company in the journey and we go only as far forward as the 'light' directs. The Word is a light for the path in front of our feet...we have faith that when/and if the road turns we will know what direction to go when we get there. At this moment we go with what we know to do in the here and now...

That road ahead...will always be hidden in the dark.

My Mijo

This girl of mine is turning 16 today. She was induced after a somewhat difficult pregnancy. We were so surprised to be having her that waiting one or two more days was OK. She came with enthusiasm and has lived every day with that same energy. She is beautiful, smart, talented, gentle and kind. She loves Jesus and is trying to figure out how to follow him in a culture that thwarts every forward motion. She has written her own stories, sung her own songs and loved her own life while honoring her parents.

I often worried I would have a hellion as a child simply as retribution for my own ways as a teenager. Why I was given such a gentle gift that I do not deserve I do not know...but I am so grateful.

Pain is mainly in the ...back.

We are in the middle of a huge remodel project that has involved complicated steps. Since Scott works in Tacoma from Monday through Thursday night we have had to do the majority of work on Friday and Saturday. Nick and I do prep work during the week like moving and digging and taking things down etc. It is crunch time here and as we scramble against rental time and daylight...I have re-injured my upper back. Not the place where I injured it last year but a recurring injury that causes me chronic pain. I overdid it in one of these flurry of activities and was lying on the ground next to all the cement and gravel wondering why I don't stop when I get the warning twinges. Scott keeps telling me to take it easy but as he labors under the sun I don't feel quite right just sitting here typing on the computer...but that is really all I can do and even sitting here my neck, arm and upper back remind me how stupid I can be... Our neighbors also did this same remodel on their basement but their church came out and helped them...a bunch of the guys in their church came out and put up what needed to be done. What a great church right....they are Mormons and they really seem to take care of their own. I have been wishing the same...from our church, from any protestant church. It seems a good thing...

Needless to say...building a wall is tedious to begin with and a man who is by nature meticulous and methodical...they will be beautiful walls.

All this to say...wish I was not in pain...wish we had help...wish it could be done sooner then later...can't wait for everything to be in order again. Being in limbo isn't a land I enjoy visiting.

8 years...

I was telling my brother-in-law the other day what was so amazing about being married to Scott. For the first time in my life...I am in a safe place. Scott brings with him a loyalty that frames my fears of abandonment. He brings a protection that is the foundation against my anxiety. He loves that gives me freedom. It has not been an easy 8 years at all: Scotty has lost both his parents, I have suffered major injuries and job loss, we have traveled over seas ( that wasn't hard though), he has worked away from the home more than once, anger/stubbornness and silence has ruled many a day, financial burdens....we have endured and overcome. I can remember a specific time when things were at the bottom...we could not get on the same page no matter what we tried. Scott was going to marriage counseling by himself as I was too stubborn to go...we were ripping each other apart and I was so sure that this person would leave again so I was going to make sure to be preemptive.

I told him he could leave if it was too much for him. He quietly said..."I am not ever going to leave, Heidi...we can have a terrible marriage for the rest of our lives, not what I wanted, but we can because I will never leave you". That turned me around, I breathed again...I was really truly safe.

Do you hear the rumble?

The engine of Fall has started to rumble. Even though we are still smack in the middle of summer, our attention is towards the Fall. For Pete's sake, the first 'not really real' game of football is on TV today! Registration for classes is this week, people are leaving to go college, teachers are beginning to think about lesson plans. I am in high anxiety because the basement project is not done and the kids have no bedrooms. BUT...Fall is still coming and as much as I want to play the music really loud to drown out the sound of that engine...I can feel summer coming to an end. I am ready for the routine of school, the interaction with students and peers, the energy that teenagers always bring to the table. Nick is in the HS this year and Mijo is running the last of her laps. Her mind has already started with her life after HS and Nick is trying to figure out how to negotiate the halls and schedule in the here and now.

BUT...there are only so many summers and this one is coming to a close. I wonder if the speed of time is directly related to the growth of children . Time is visually recorded in the growth of our children and advancement of their schooling. Time for us is recorded on our faces, in our hair, on our bodies but only incrementally. Having another birthday does not bring new freedoms as it does for the younger humans. Another birthday means we have advanced another year towards that other RUMBLE we seem to hear more clearly with every extra candle we blow out. The rumble of getting older...

When I was young I those who were older were grand and awesome, wise and smart. I wanted to be them...I am getting to be them and I wonder when I will be all that. I do not want to be afraid of the RUMBLE...I want to embrace life is all its stages as I have in our children. I do not not understand the indignity of old age and the homes that hold so many. I sort of wish there was a button we could push to turn the engine off when we are done rather then having it sputter and linger on. I hear both rumbles clearly, one I anticipate the other I dread.

belies the fear within

Mijo and I had a great time in San Fransisco...Lisa and her mom gave us such a gift of adventure and fun for which we will always be grateful.

I learned something on our boat trip out in the bay ... I am afraid of more then I realized. In this picture you can't see it but underneath the merry smiles I am dealing with fear. We hit some swells while were were under the bridge, nothing extreme of threatening but suddenly the same fear that attends when I fly in an airplane settled on me. My first reaction was ' Great...now I can't travel in a boat either' which has been my all time dream way of traveling, boat and train. Where did that fear come? Why here and why now? As I tried to analyze this new anxiety I wondered if it was because of my accident with the horse last summer. A seemingly 'safe' activity that turned out horrible wrong. Will I now be saddled (excuse the pun) with this burden of fear whenever I embark on any form of transportation other then a car? If this is true...I will certainly be hobbled (can't seem to stop) in any attempt to travel. Maybe I should go back on a horse ...NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO...that form of transportation has a mind of its own which as far as I know is not true for planes, trains or boats. What do we do with irrational fear that has a rational basis: Planes do crash, boats do sink trains do derail and horses do buck. Cars on the other hand...crash all the time!

I really do not want to be afraid anymore, so where do I go from here? How do I become a brave and confident traveler?

falling away

"Lack of interest", he said. That's what she said for the reason she left the marriage. She no longer wanted to work at staying in. Marriage is such a tentative thing at the best of times, easily fractured at the worst. Having been married to two different men I can see that more then not, love is a choice not a feeling. It is the same with our relationship with God I think...but with Him, it is a long distance relationship bolstered by letters and 'phone-prayer' calls. Long-distance relationships are fraught with temptations and longing, sadness and anticipation, frustration and contentment. A relationship built on trust and covenant where the One will never waver but the other will always wonder.

"Lack of interest", she said. My heart hurts for my friend who heard this from his wife. A 16 year relationship just fizzled away like pin hole leak in tire. Aware that there is something wrong but after a while letting it go because it is just such a hassle to stop and fix the leak...

Both relationships take effort and attention, a lack of either brings devastating consequences.

Looking up...

Houses in San Fran are beautiful even underneath. I glanced up on a walk through these neighborhood only to be delighted at this workmanship and creative touch. If I looked at instead of up...would have missed the details.

I have been out of sorts in every regard. We are in a building project in our house which creates chaos and chaos immobilizes me. I can't seem to figure out how to look up rather then at.

I can only see what is and not what can be. I only see getting older not getting wiser. I only see my children growing up not launching out. I only see the dryness of my soul not the wilderness of transition. I see the mess not the opportunity for change. I see half my life finished not half still to come.

My perspective needs to change but I can't seem to tilt my neck...reminds me what God called his children...a stiff-necked people. A people to stubborn to change their perspective...am I those people?

Two meanings

Driving down to San Fran for an exciting wonderful dash away, we drove past this painted proclamation. I snapped a picture just because this seems to be my mantra lately. Literally, I don't need to buy so much of what I buy. I do think as those of us who live in a too much society we have too much of everything. I am trying to simplify but it is a process of incremental steps rather then giant steps. I want to get rid of everything except the basics but somehow what I get rid of is quickly replaced. I want to have a moving sale but not really move :). The more I live in our too much society the less I want to have.

I also Don't Buy what many are telling me. There is an arrogance maybe in thinking that people don't have the wisdom to tell me anything, but there seems to be little wisdom out there. Ironic though as I "tell" what I think others should "buy". Again in our too much society we all believe that because we think, feel and want something to be true...it is. So much of what we think is based on cultural tradition rather then biblical tradition. TRUTH in its subversive reality is framed too often in our Western culturally tradition and we will fight for the frame but not the truth. The TRUTH sets people free, cultural framework by definition encloses.

What amazes me about Jesus is how subversive He is in every culturally framework. Think about where His story travels and how much freedom follows until the messengers bring in their cultural framework. I think the truth that is supposed to set us free has been so polluted by Western culture we don't see where one ends and truth begins. Our American framework that rewards power, achievement, wealth, youth, good looks, independence, leisure...Don't Buy It !

The desire to be safe, secure, soft and silly...this being the code of conduct for many of our youth...Don't Buy It ! These are traps and there is no freedom.

I want freedom but not framed in the political mumbo jumbo of American patriotism and our inalienable rights...I want the TRUTH to set me free from all of this and into the Blessed are the poor in Spirit, Blessed are those who hunger and search for righteousness...

Strange day away

Yesterday, we went to sprinkle Scott's parents ashes near Mt. Rainer. A long drive down then up and then over. We gathered, Scott and siblings scattered and we went and had a picnic. Suffice it to say, much more simpler then a funeral, much less emotional...ashes to ashes and dust to dust.

Driving down we discussed the changes in funerals and cremations etc. I have decided that when I die, Mijo will take my ashes and use it as fertilizer for a beautiful tree. I first asked that she take my ashes and sprinkle them on my Mom's grave there in Papua, but planting a tree in her yard or Nick's would be simpler and much more efficient. This got us to wondering the reasoning's behind a grave and the burying of the dead. Our culture is beginning to change its ways about what and where to put the dead, I wonder if this is a reflection of something changing in our cultural mind set. Is there an inherent cultural or even religious value in gathering and burying the dead? Are we supposed to honor the dead in that way or in any way?

Suffice it to say, a morbid conversation but a curious cultural reality. The more primitive a culture the more elaborate it seems the dying and burying and/or burning process. The more important the person in life, the more extravagant his death. I think of lady Diana, Ronald Reagan etc. How would God want us to view this transition time...

It was a strange day in either case but being together as a family, in a car all day long...that was great.

If you don't now maybe you should...

Scott was at drill this weekend so before he goes down to Tacoma for the week we met half way for supper. Since he is coming from drill he has his uniform on ...I am such a sucker for a man in uniform. I really hate being apart from him and when he has drill the length of time between is that much longer. So meeting him for supper breaks up the distance if for a few moments. We timed it perfectly, as I got off the highway coming south, he got off the highway coming north and we drove into the parking lot at the same time. I was so proud to be on his arm walking into the restaurant. Then something strange happened as we waited. Two older men at different times came up to him, shook his hand and thanked him. " Thank you for serving sir", they said. Scott quietly responded, "You are welcome". We didn't talk about it during supper...I don't know if we will...

I lost my first husband in an accident, I often think about what I would do if I lost my second. He may have to go to Afghanistan or Iraq, that is what th National Guard do at the moment. He would be gone for 18 months in a place where being killed can be a part of the job description. A soldier...I have trouble going there, would I be so grateful that he served at that time?

Maybe more of us should say' thank you' to the men/women in the service. It makes a difference...

Loyalty

My post on the world cup. Spain has officially won and to be honest with you I fell asleep in the second half. I am supposed to want the Dutch to win since that is my heritage but secretly I wanted the Spanish to win because they seemed to play nicer. Now since they have won, I am a fan of Spain. Don't tell my Dad...

I have many loyal fans in this house. Nick is a Colts fan and has been fan of Spain for a long time. He is very loyal to these teams. Scott is a Washington Redskins fan for NFL, English fan for soccer and Washington/Notre Dame for college football. Loyal through loss and wins and more losses. Me, I have no loyalty. I go for the winners all the time. Every year I see who has the best season and they become my team. Why not...why do I have to be loyal to something that does not matter?

The men in my family think this is awful...that I would so easily leave a team for another just because they are winning. Why Not? It is just a game, it really does not matter and my lack of loyalty does not reflect on my loyalty to what does matter.

I love winners...in games. I love to win in games. What else in life can you really try your hardest and get the reward. Nothing else really has that pay back. You can try your hardest at being healthy but that does not mean you will never get sick. You can try your hardest at work but you will not always get that promotion. You can love your most consistent but that does not mean your family will not disappoint you. Even in our faith, we are to run to win the prize but that isn't because we have come in first...we are supposed to come in last ! In games...the one who plays the best wins and it is so much fun.

Do not misunderstand...for me a game is a game. I really don't think competition is a fruit of the Spirit. I know many many disagree with me, especially those who have devoted themselves to playing a sport and getting really good at it. Some make too much of what is simply a gift of organized play. From the World cup, to the Olympics, to the LC football game this fall here in little Lynden...may the best man win and I will route for you. NOW...if my kid is playing...he/she is my loyalty.

Jesus in Butte

We stopped in Butte, Montana for a break on our way to Yellowstone. On one of the mountain ridges was this HUGE statue of Jesus...think Rio's Jesus but a bit smaller. I could not figure out what that white blob was in the distance and not until we looked at it through the binoculars did we figure out that in fact it was a statue of Jesus in really Pope looking robes. So what do you think it means not to have graven images of God. I really don't think anyone is worshiping this icon of Jesus...it would take some hiking and climbing to get anywhere near...but what makes us want to take all this effort and energy to make an image of Jesus. It kind of reminds me of the Buddhas strewn all over the world...and a Buddhist will tell you that no one is really worshiping Buddha ...for he is not a god...what are they doing then with all these icons? What are we doing with all these icons?

I used to have pretty benign feeling about the Catholic church. I watched a documentary about the pedophilia rampant in the ranks of priests and my feelings are not so benign...maybe that system has become more malignant. From the icons/graven images to the candles, from the priests/nuns to the popes... rotten in the core.

We need the concrete to make the divine accessible...if God seems distant lets make him tangible. Jesus was human...Jesus is God...lets make an image. God said no before...maybe there is still a no now and the Church lost its way centuries ago. I have no hatred, I have much respect for some...but maybe it is time for a reality check to principles that tradition holds dear but not so much the Bible. What has this church built its foundations upon...maybe it is time for this edifice to crumble.

We protested many years ago...shall we protest again for this soiled bride? In the eyes of the world we are all called Christians...the tangible Christ. We are the images of God...not standing on a mountain ridge in pope robes but driving cars, loving kids and neighbors, working hard at every job. God saved his Image to be reflected in flesh...starting with Jesus continues with me. He still says No to sticks and stones and statues in Butte, Montana.

Opine: expect, believe or suppose

We took a trip to Yellowstone National Park. Nick and I and small dog, in a car, on the road for a looooooong time. To opine about the trip, I was looking forward to beautiful landscapes, long deep conversations with my 13 year old son, and eloquent thoughts about deep things on quiet mornings. One out of three isn't bad, it is quite beautiful in Yellowstone. What is really ironic about this pristine, in the middle of nowhere national park is that there are so many many people. Long conversations with 13 year old sons never happen when you sit in the car for 14 hours, it is usually when you want to sleep at 10 PM. Quiet morning are not quiet when you have a small puppy who wants to play the moment you open your eyes. What we opine usually isn't what transpires.

If we are stuck in what we opine, we can't see what is. That's what plans are...ideas of what should happen, but they are just ideas. So often what we plan is what we suppose should happen rather then what could happen. If I stuck on what I thought should happen I would have been disappointed in what did. Lots and lots of people but because of this we were able to see many more animals...lots of eyes to see shadows on the mountain side. 10 pm is a great time to talk, I don't have to think about what is on the road and I can listen wholeheartedly to what he wants to say rather then what he should say. Because puppies get up early, we started the days much sooner and saw Yellowstone wake up cool and crisp.

Opine and let go...

When do you let it go...

When will what I was become less important then who I am? As I reach the middle earth of living why do the whispers of my early years sound louder and louder? Do I have to listen...or am I finally able to understand that all my years make up all my life. The lonely 6 year old, the confused 13 year old, the angry 17 year old, the hopeful 21 year old, the curious 25 year old, the confident 31 year old, the grieving 35 year old, the restored 41 year old...she is all here. But...when can I silence the younger Heidi with the maturity of Heidi the 46 year old.

I work with high school students who carry their younger wounded selves close to the surface. The inability to carry some of their grief is understandably...I have enough years to hide the worst of mine but these students don't know how and somehow I don't really want them to...How to help them deal though is tricky. How do you deal with wounded souls when the wound was inflicted to a soul being formed...there is so much confusion.

I find my 46 soul protecting my 6 year old and 11 year old soul...but when can I just be 46 and look forward to 83? Do I drag all these years with me or can I be 46 whole, rather then a collection of bad and good years. If I live quickly in the dash...is bringing the past dragging the run? I think I am tired for that reason...I can't embrace my future because I have carried them all too long. They are me...but they can't define who I will become anymore.

Can I let her go? Do we really have to take our history so seriously?

Getting there

I am almost to the place I want to be to start again...maybe i have lost some readers, maybe I will gain some more. Those of you who have hung in there...so much thanks.

Under Construction...

Aren't we always...

I've decided

I think I am going to stop writing for awhile. Not that I have nothing to say...always have something to say. I just need to find the thing I want to say. I read many many blogs...it has become my favorite read in the morning after I catch up with the news. I want to revamp, restyle, rethink what it is I want to do. Needless to say...this is what I want to do for now. Thank you for your kind attention over these years. Please stay tuned...I will be back but differently.

I drove by...

I drove by a graveside ceremony today. Lynden may be the only town that has a cemetery at its entrance but every time you drive in and out on Front Street, one drives through a cemetery. The people caught my eye as they huddles around the plot. Dark colors and hunched shoulders, draped arms and white Kleenex were the unspoken reminders of this grave day.
I drove by enormous houses with closed gates and immaculate laws. Wealth displayed in houses and views and gardens and gates. I could not imagine having so much and living in such gracious surroundings.
I drove by a trailer park a few miles down the road from the mansions. Clustered together with nary a garden plot. Children playing in the space between, on old pieces of furniture and broken down cars.
I drove home, my little house on 10th. The kids were watching Dr. Who...Scott and I just had a wonderful evening together. So very grateful for what I have...and the grief I don't yet have to carry. Such reminders on a drive by...

Bits of bread

Scott and I were talking about God's interest in our personal every day lives. It is hard at times to think that the immensity of God is at all concerned for the finiteness of me. Everyone tells me this is true but in the riding to school, running the dog, figuring out breakfast...I still find it hard to believe there is a divine interest in me and my ho hum life. I asked Scott about this and he said we just need to look for the bread crumbs...which reminded me of that time that Jesus talked to the Canaanite woman. ( Matthew 15) She was wanting her child to be healed and Jesus in one of the more strange response seems to insult her by telling her he is really there for the Jews...it is a strange un-Jesus like response and though I have heard and read many reason why and how, I only want to think about is her response. "But even the dogs get the crumbs off the masters table"...She seems to recognize Jesus' point and makes one of her own. I like this...I am this woman. I am not saying that I am less but I am certainly not on the edge of God's Kingdom work. I am a vessel of ignoble use not noble...I am not Moses, or Paul, or Lydia, or any other named character in the Bible...I am one of the crowd, the many, the church. I am that unnamed women who knows Jesus well enough to know that he will not overlook my anonymity. My value to Him is not predicated on my culture, credibility, charisma, character, cash, career or color.
I am of value apart from my position in this society. I am of value outside the realm of human accomplishment.
Those bead crumbs from the table...nourish me.

Micro ... Macro

We are the proud owners of an aquarium and 4 little goldfish. Mijo and I were such newbies walking into Pets Smart wondering what it would take to get up and running. Much longer and much more complicated then you think. We had an aquarium from the biology lab at school and some objects to put in,all I thought we would need would be some fish, food and a filter. No...you need a water heater, water purifier, net, gravel for the bottom, scrubber, gravel vacuum, water stone and pump. One can't even have any fish until there is enough bacteria in the water after you take the chlorine out. you can either buy some bacteria and wait a week or so or you can buy some goldfish. Those hearty , dirty fish who when you have them a week dirty up the tank enough to allow the water to get to that magical ratio that is healthy for other fish.

Water life amaze me because not to many years ago all we knew about fish was what we caught in our nets or saw with our own eyes a few feet deep. The whole micro world was beyond our scope, just waiting to be discovered.

I love it that God so knew his Creation that He knew we needed to discover. How the unknown pushes us further. Deeper and higher we go looking and marveling and wondering. Seeing all the colors of the fish, their size and shape and 'personalities', I am so delighted to discover for myself a new living thing spoken from God's imagination. In the micro to the macro...from the simple to the complicated...all that is living dancing its beauty. I wonder what is still out there, up there under there...yet to be seen.

God's imagination swimming in my fish tank...running in the field...growing in my garden...kissing me goodnight.

11 years ago

Curtiss Lee Buiskool....husband of 14 years , son, brother and father died 11 years ago today. This is some of what he wrote...A time to remember...

Don't let the past go; come to accept it with peace. If I run away from my past
I'll never stop running
There is no future dwellin on the past.

Without hope there is no future
Without the past there are no lessons learned
Withouth today there is neither

We build a future by living many today's
If you ask me for more than today you have me confused with God.

If we breath we're given today
Its sunset but a hope
Assuming tomorrow sunset, arrogance

Our days ahead unwritten, unpromised
Those behind with regrets, serenity covers

Getting a cold

On Friday in my ESL we were going around having to answer random questions on cards. This creates conversations which in the long run is exactly what is needed. These students spend most of their conversations times talking in their native languages rather then struggle through with English. Anyway, one of the questions was what diseases are you most afraid to contract. We all walked about cancer, Aids etc. and one of my students said...colds. I am most afraid of getting a cold.

This made me laugh...so I asked. Really, you are afraid of getting a cold? He answers..." I have 3 colds this semester, so I am afraid of cold ! Keeping it real...why not worry about what actually can happen rather then what may happen. Refreshing in the reality of it all.

I finally did go to the doctor for my well check up. It has been 3 years since my last and as worried as I was about what I may have...all that was of concern was my very low vitamin D count. I'm good to go otherwise. Anxious about everything ...thankful about nothing. I don't think that is how the verse goes...

So, here is to the common cold...a reminder that it isn't more and therefore we can be thankful.

Cell phones and Nick

My son has been asking for a cell phone for about...2 years now. He seems to think that having a cell phone will somehow make him taller, smarter, and better looking. We have said no ... for about 2 years but the time came Sunday on a shopping trip to Costco. He could have handled it so much better then he did but then he reminds me of me in my relationship to the Almighty.
So we go and get all the information about who, what and why and the gentlemen I think his name was Larry said we needed to go through the line to get our phones before he could sign us up. If you know Costco on Sunday you know it is a MAD house and the lines waiting for the tellers slink all the way back to never never land. I have a personal rule about being in a Que...I don't unless standing in line I will only have to do it once. Buying this phone...I would have to stand in line twice. Nick looked at me...realized what the firmness of my jaw meant. I was not going to stand in line unless we had a full cart and were going to do this only once. He said..."Come on Mom, it is no big deal, it's only 10 people!" I said we would go and talk to Larry but there was no way.....On the walk back to Larry, Nick got angry with me. He does not verbalize...he sets his face like stone and kicks things.
Ahh Nick...you had the chance to deal with disappointment better then that. You could have realized that getting a cell phone now is really about 5 months before you should. You could have seen that we wanted to do something nice and we would have made it work but not at this juncture and this particular day. Really, we want to do right by you but now you have changed what could have been a fun time together with a great new cell phone in the near future and responded with gratefulness rather then anger. It was just the timing of it all not the gift. Larry offered to get the phones so we did not have to stand in line twice and suddenly Nick was all good.
Now, I was mad....Nick, of course you have a good attitude, you get what you want NOW. I wanted you to be grateful you were getting a phone sooner then later for no reason except we wanted to do something nice for you. Next time maybe you can just trust me and be thankful...

Yes, Heidi...maybe you can...trust Me even when you think My timing is off with the good I want to give you...Stop kicking those goads.

Thursday Morning

I anticipated getting a lot done this Spring break and with Scotty's help...much has been accomplished. We painted...Scott being so much more meticulous then I. We were painting over what I had painted when I first bought the house. I was in a rush to get it all done so we could move in that I did not spend a lot of time doing the details..like taping etc. Once over was good enough and on we went. 9 years later Scott painted over my haste.

It took him a lot longer to get the painting done then if I was in charge of the project. He is so good about getting it done right. I am so good at getting it done fast...not so much right. I love his work but I get so frustrated with the timing.

Ahhh but isn't this how the Almighty does things? It always seems to take longer then it should, whatever it is we have asked God to intervene. I get so frustrated in the timing of it all, why do we always have to wait? I watched "The Passion of the Christ" this past Good Friday. It was excruciating to watch and if I never watch it again, that's good. What bothers me so about this medium of entertainment is that it is a virtual Jesus getting scourged, a pretend Satan, an acting Mary, a really good Pilot...see nothing is real. This is a real story though and yet there in 2 hours or so we are made to 'feel' something. In particular the sequence for the lashing was more then I could watch. I am squeamish about blood anyway... I never watch it on TV and I get sick to my stomach when I see it in real life. I kept saying...come on finish the lashing already !!! get on with the story, get on with something else...even in the condensed version of a movie, Jesus pain was too long. The more I read about the death and resurrection of Jesus, timing was everything but nothing was soon enough. The only thing that was surprising was that Jesus died much sooner then he was supposed too.

He does everything well...always on His own timetable. He fixes our hasty mistakes with painstaking strokes and creates something altogether new. Nothing sooner or later...always on time. These things are what swirl in my head this Thursday morning.

A good Friday

In my ESL this week I am showing the Jesus film. I was going to do it in English but realized that the reason I am showing this movie is that these students have an understanding to what all the hoopla is at this time of the year. If you have ever tried to tell the story of the death and Resurrection of Jesus to a person who has never heard the story before...it is a strange experience.
So who killed Jesus? Why, if he is good? Why is it a good Friday when it is a bad thing? Why did they let Barabbas go? He did not really die because he came back to life on Sunday, right?
I tell them that to understand this LC culture and from what foundation each teacher here at LC teaches, they need to understand how important the life and death and resurrection of Jesus Christ is. I keep telling them that this is what we believe...but it sounds so foolish.
The Jesus film allows the character to speak in many languages...Chinese being one of them. Wrap your mind around this ...A white man speaking in Chinese representing a Jewish man in Israel to Chinese students in the US about a faith that transcends each of these cultures. How do you begin to make sense of it all...So I pray that they fall in love with the man Jesus who will lead them back to God.
They look at me and I wonder if they have lost some respect for me. How could an educated woman believe in this complicated reality?
If you think Santa Clause muddies the water at Christmas...try putting the Easter bunny next to the Crucifixion. I hope to teach well, live better and love always.

Skipping moments

I stop often in a day and think how fun it would be to write a post about the moment. Moments that fill my day that settle into a contentment of sorts. Love that feeling and that choice...contentment. The thing is with these skipping moments is that they are like the smile of a baby. They come with a surprise and leave before everyone can gather and enjoy.
I will list them but even in the compilation , the words can't express the moment.
My chicken pot pie that tasted so amazingly wonderful...I was really hungry.
Playing Wii with Scott and looking so funny while trying to canoe "virtually".
Listening to Nick tell me about his trip to Seattle and really not understanding what he was trying to say.
Mijo and I bumping into each other in the hallway at school and laughing because I caught her with a thought plastered across her face.
The cat venturing out into the living room in spite of Mocha the ever present dog.
Hard rain...really hard rain and hail.
Plants ready to be planted...green and fresh and promises of spring and fresh garden food.
Moving my furniture around...a fresh approach to the living room.
Talking about the Resurrection to those who have no idea what I am talking about.

More and more I realize in all the bad...there are sprinkled moments of pure joy. The heaviness of the news, the reality of the bills, the rancor of the media and the politicians, the sheer stupidity of choices...there are moments skipping by to enjoy.

Grace and what it looks like to an 8th grade boy

It all started out quite simple. Let's play a game. It was a rainy Sunday afternoon with nothing to do but be a wonderful happy family. We attempted but failed miserable. It looked so easy, play a board game, laugh at funny jokes, engage in witty conversations. Nick wanted to play Risk, we ended up playing Disney Scene It. Nick is becoming quite passive aggressive. He knows he can't confront head on with all of us strong personalities so he has become the passive aggressive soldier. He took the Risk game out, started reading the rules and placing all the game pieces out WHILE we were playing Disney Scene it. He answered reluctantly even though Mijo was enthusiastically trying to get us all in a party mood. Nick anchored every enthusiastic win. He dragged every happy moment. I finally had enough and shut down the game. I was so frustrated. Why can't we be a Happy family? Why oh Why?
Then he had the audacity to ask me to get him a pop when I went to the store. I had just yelled at him concerning his really bad attitude AND then he asks me to get him a pop. What kind of kid is he anyway.
Walking in the grocery store I am still frustrated at him...then I see the Mountain Dew. We don't allow Nick to drink Mountain Dew at home. It has way too much sugar and caffeine. So he sneaks this Dew when he is away from us as if it was an illicit drug.
I bought him the Dew.

Treading Water

Treading water: the ability to stay afloat but not to move ahead.

It seems of late that no matter the good intentions, the noble plans, the just the right word at the right time...nothing moves. It is like the exercising that I do...I have yet to break the barrier where I am not afraid of the consequent pain. So, I tentatively do my routine to maintain but not to strengthen. I won't call the doctor for a well check up because I am afraid of bad news. There is nothing going wrong but since the accident last May, I know something can happen at any time with no warning. Ignorance is bliss at the moment. Treading water seems to be safe place at the moment. The foray's I make seem to come up empty which magnifies the feeling of inadequacy.

I have a student who I had to call out yesterday, he was sleeping. Not only that day but every day for the last week. He says to me..."I liked this class when we started but it is really boring now". I told him that I was sorry he felt that way, but I knew that others were interested in the content. I told him he could drop the class...which he did. No matter how hard you try in areas you have had success...there is the fly in the proverbial ointment.

Impasse...treading water...uncertainty...insecurity...fear!

I love swimming and if there was a sport I probably could have been good at, it would have been swimming. What I love about the tropics is that swimming is so much part of the context of living. The water is usually warm. I tread water to see rest, to see where I need to go, to wait for someone who is a slower swimmer, to look around at the scenery. Maybe treading water at the moment is not such a bad thing to be doing. I am still in the water...I have not given up the swim.

So, I guess these are the random thoughts of a treader of water...where are you in the swim of things.

Babbling

In class right now I have several Chinese students talking about something. I can't figure out if they are mad, sad or just giving out information. Often I try and listen and figure out what is going on just by their tone...most often their babbling is just that. I hear different accents in Chinese now...though I have no idea what is being said. This language is so much a part of my day though it is familiar, I have no idea what is being said. How long would I have to listen before I really begin to understand? I can't even pick up individual words at the moment...but I know it is Chinese.
I often think that this is how I hear God. He is speaking all the time, I recognize His accent but I have no idea what He is trying to communicate. When I read His word...the stories flow over me like a fresh spring creek...but do I understand what I am suppose hear? Often times I really think He is shouting in Chinese and I don't have a translator. I hear the familiar babble of sound pouring from His creation, I don't hear His words. Never to insinuate that God babbles , my Chinese students know what they are saying to each other. They are not ignorant of their ability to communicate in their language...I just don't know it.
So how do I learn the language of God? Does He speak English?

Silence

You all know the silence that is really loud. The measured distance created by the absence of words. One of the ways that I deal with issues any issues really is to be quiet. I gather all my resources, my issues and go into a created cave of sorts and wait. I don't know what I am waiting for but I wait nonetheless. I teach a Family Psychology to High school seniors here at LC and we often talk about resolving relational issues, how to..what steps to take etc. After 7 years of teaching this subject I can't seem to take my own advice. How to be assertive, how to manage my issues in community, how to not isolate. Isolation being the key defense mechanism of choice.

I wonder what is so comforting about silence. If I don't talk about it maybe it really isn't an issue.

I seem to be able to write about it though (smile)!

It is quiet here in the house.