Heard Lately...

It struck me today that some pretty funny things have been said around our house recently. I decided to share as a way to ease back into blogging...and pretend that it hasn't been over 2 months since I posted anything on here!
 - Little t has taken to calling me Pretty Lady. I am really really okay with this. He can be heard during the day saying, "hey pretty lady! want to kiss my muscles?" Really? who can resist that?

 -The chowkidar here is a very nice guy that we like a lot. He is great with Little t and does good work. I am finding it strange though that he addresses me as Said...which basically means boss or master. I don't know if it is because he can't remember my name, or if it just an impulse thing or what...but it is weird. I am beginning to toy with the idea of having Little t give him lessons in calling me pretty lady. I mean, what girl doesn't want to be called that multiple times a day?!?

 -DaDaDaDADADADADA! This is what we hear from Baby Z all day. She loves her daddy and isn't afraid to let us know! She also waves when someone says hi, bye or salaam. She is babbling up a storm, but Dada is definitely her first word.

 -Little t was talking with my parents on Skype the other morning and very seriously informed them that he is going to be a policeman when he grows up. My mom asked what Baby Zar is going to be. Without skipping a beat Little t replied, "A giraffe!"

 -Later in the conversation my brother joined and told Little t that he decided to be a giraffe when he grows up. Little t said "wow! cool!" Tate asked Little t what Baby Zar was going to be and he replied, "a hippo"

 -Little t earlier today, "mom, I would really like you to pinch my buns!"

 -Me to Little t this morning at breakfast: "It is not okay to pull your sock off of your foot and wipe oatmeal off of the table with it...not okay."

 -Little t is convinced that Baby Z's middle name is Peter. No idea where this came from.

 -A.P. really really likes pad thai (the traditional Thai noodle dish). He ate it often while we were in Thailand. One day during lunch he said, "You know, all of these old white guys have it figured out. They come here and marry a Thai lady and then she can cook them pad thai every day. How great would that be, to get fat off of pad thai...so great."

 -A.P. also really likes pilau (the local traditional rice dish). Last night during his second meal of pilau for the day he said, "I wonder how many years it will be before I am that old man who takes a plastic bag to weddings to take all of the leftover pilau home to eat? Not long at the rate I am going!" This morning when he was really sick, he agreed that he might postpone such pilau gluttony for a while.

 -During a conversation the other day about a local co-worker it came up that he comes from an important family but he himself isn't so important because he is the son of the fourth wife. We decided to make that our new insult, "you son of the fourth wife!"

 - Conversation that happens every day when Little t comes home from preschool. I ask how his day was and he says, “dreat! (great) I didn’t have any time outs and I got a piece of candy!”

 And lastly: - Usually Little t isn't interested in pra.ying at the dinner table unless he is in a good mood. He is usually in a good mood when he comes home from preschool. The other day he started to pray - in a very fervent voice he began, "thank you God for the Lord!" I cracked up...and blamed it on Baby Zar. He is such a funny little stinker.

 And let's be honest...you all would rather see pictures of my cute kiddos than read crazy stories. So here are a few...

On Turtle Beach in Thailand. Little t was in heaven

Peas....Yum!

     

Unclenching My Fists

That face speaks all kinds of defiance, frustration and anger.  A word doesn’t even need to be uttered in order for the message to come across loud and clear, “I do not like not getting my way. I don’t want to listen and obey!”  The fists ball up in a last ditch effort to keep hold of something; dignity, control, voice. 

My first thought when I recall this scene is, “oh that three year old of mine. He is a passionate little bugger!  There he goes, making sure he can still exert what little control he has!” 

My mental chiding comes to a halt when I realize I am looking in the mirror and not at a picture of my son with his tousled hair and blue/green eyes.  My eyes drop to the ground at the realization that I am the one whose fists have been balled up for quite a while now. I have defiance written all over my face as I stand before my Heavenly Father, the Creator of the Universe and the God of all. 

I could take you through all of the excuses I have for why I am at this place in life, but they are only that, excuses. Granted, like Little t, they hold weight and I like to camp on them as a way to grasp for straws and make my argument seem right. But when it all comes down to it, I have taken a lot of what isn’t mine: a desire for control, fear and worry about the future, the right to make decisions in my life, justification of selfishness. 

I know in the back of my head that I am better off with God in charge, but my three year old self kicks in and oooohhhhh, it is so hard to let go! 

Because letting go means unclinching my fists. It means giving up what little say I feel I have in things. It means giving up those two or three things that aren’t really productive ways to spend my time, but I really like them. It means stopping to play with my kids instead of working on my agenda and trying to actually get something done for once. It means thinking about others before myself.  It means stepping out in faith when everything in me wants to put on the breaks and sit down and cry.

My society, and my human heart and mind tells me I am entitled to making my own decisions, taking time to myself no matter who needs me then, having hobbies or obsessions that are destructve to living simply and my pocketbook.  It tells me that I deserve a life that is good and rich and easy. It tells me to grab all I can and hold on tight. The more I grab and the harder I clinch, the happier I will be.

And then Jesus comes along and says, ‘let go.” 

He says these crazy, radical things like, “come to me all you who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest.” It isn’t about taking time to ourselves. It’s not about what we can pamper ourselves with, or what we can buy that will help us look put together.  It is about coming to Him tired and broken and frail. It’s about leaving it all at the door and letting Him fill us up with the richess of His goodness and mercy.

 I keep thinking about these verses in John 12: “I tell you the truth, unless a kernal of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. The man who loves his life will lose it, while the man who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life.  Whoever serves me must follow me; and where I am, my servant will also be. My father will honor the one who serves me.”

I want that, but I don’t.  I know what is in clenched fists…ugly stinky stuff that gets caught and festers.   My baby girl’s fists are just now beginning to unclench and turn human. Before that they were a goldmine of lint and dirt and sweat. And if she got a hold of a piece of naan – there was no way anyone could take it away. She would hang on to that ‘treasure’ for dear life! Mine are the same way. That addiction to bags that doesn’t do anyone any good – it needs to go. The adamance that I must have a say in where we go next and what the future holds must be surrendered for the promise that He will guide in good ways when I trust in Him, even when that means I can’t see what is coming next.  My bad attitude toward my kids when they need something at an inconvienent time - shameful. They are my job afterall. More importantly, I so often lose sight of the blessing they are. 

So, this new year is not full of grand resolutions for me. I kinda hang my head in shame to be honest. I just have to admit that I have been less surrendered to God and His good plan for me that I want to be…than I need to be.  My goal of the year is to unclench my fists. To look Him in the face and have Him wash my hands of the things that have been keeping me from surrendering to Him.  I want to lay it down and walk in His ways no matter what.

I know He leads well. I know His plans are best. I long to let Him lead me in good ways as I freely surrender to Him each day.

A Different Vantage Point

There a lot of things I should be doing right now, but it is nice to take a moment and soak up listening to my little world. Little t is puttering around the house ‘helping’ A.P.  Baby Zar is snoring in her room for her nap. The wind howls outside (there were snowflakes in the air this morning!) The clock on the wall is ticking. 

Yesterday I was exhausted and ready to make extreme decisions. I was more than half tempted to open the back of the truck carrying all of our belongings out of M-ville and let people take whatever they wanted…and then leave the country. A week of wrestling life alone as I sat consumed with the potential challenges of the unknown future left me exhausted and ready to throw in the towel.  In an emotional conference call with our boss last night, I spilled my emotions (I am very good at that) and raised alarm on all of our parts. 

Being the wise man that he is, A.P. encouraged me to take a step back, look at things from a different vantage point, and relax before making more extreme statements and decisions (giving away all of our things, writing off options for the future, crying my eyes out when Baby Zar woke again for the billionth time last night).  He listented to my frustration and emotion and didn’t belittle me for it, but also helped me to take a breath.

It is true. The last week was not an easy one for me. I am very much a ‘see the tree instead of the forest’ person anyway. So the problems of life consume me easily in the moment and I lose sight of the big picture. I also tend to take things to the extreme (my parents and husband are laughing at this right now). For example…I kicked myself all week because it quickly became obvious that if I couldn’t handle my current situation I would never make a good refugee. And obviously that makes me a terrible and weak person.  I can’t help you follow the logic of this thinking…but suffice it to say it wasn’t a helpful realization in the midst of my crazy week. A.P. calmly (probably while stifling a laugh at my ridiculousness) helped me see that it wasn’t the most important or positive thing for me to focus on while trying to take care of my two kids in the challenging circumstances.  He basically told me (in a loving way) to be realistic, stop beating myself up, and choose a different vantage point from which to see my situation.

So, I sit here this morning to rest.  I have a list of 100 things that need done, but I am reminded that they don’t matter right now.  I have lost sight once again of the crucial need I have to start my day and end my day and saturate my day with Jes.us. Am I the only one who has to learn this lesson over and over…and over? Jesu.s Calling this morning reminded me about letting my day be saturated with Him.  I haven’t been doing that.  There are diapers to change and kids to feed and Facebook to look at and laundry to do and….  And it bogs me down when it becomes my focus. 

So, that is my hearts desire on this blustery day (that is making my laundry outside sopping wet…but I am not supposed to be thinking about that…).  I am working to gain a different vantage point. I am desperately wanting to and needing to come back to the feet Jes.us and tackle the challenges of the day and the future from that position.  

Maybe after I become better at that,  I can work on my ability to be a refugee…

Deflated

3 1/2 years ago…

I still remember the morning clear as day. Sitting on a stool in my friend E’s kitchen overlooking the ocean. The view was breathtaking, but I found myself enchanted by something else.  E’s testimony about their passion and conviction and calling to work in that specific place moved me to tears. Her whole being was infused with peace as she shared the tangible ways that God had made His desires clear for them. She shared that on the really hard days (and believe me, they have had their share of really hard days…) that calling and passion is what gets them through.

I have to be honest and say that I was a little jealous. We had just limped out of a particularly challenging season of life and we weren’t exactly sure whether the doors behind us were closing or remaining open. We were tired, discouraged, feeling wounded and indifferent to all that this land had to offer us.

And there was J and E. They are not super peple or perfect, but they have a very clear calling to be where they are and doing what they do. They love where they are and what they do. I wanted that.

Going home that became the cry of my heart - that before God opened the next door He would give us a very direct call and sense of purpose for the place He was leading us to and the work there. 

It took a while. A lot of pra.ying and asking and wrestling and seeking later, we knew without a doubt that God was calling us to M-ville.  We went and it was good. It wasn’t always easy. There were painfully hard days and infuriating days. There were days that were very dark and the Enemy was obviously at work around us. But in all of that, we had peace.  It was a sweet sweet time in our lives where we enjoyed basking in God’s peace and walking in that, even though chaos was King outside the walls of our house. We were fulfilled in our work, we were growing as a family, we were growing in our relationships with friends and neighbors, spiritually we were maturing. Like our friends J and E, it came from knowing we were in the center of God's will.

Fast forward to now…

A.P. is in M-ville right now packing up our things and preparing to move them out in a few days. It will no longer be our home. Security has declined and though we deeply desire to return, leaders in our org have decided that it is not wise for us to do so.

I kind of feel like a deflated balloon. We came back ready to jump into life and work and relationship in that place. We returned with that same passion and conviction, that same calling to be a speck of light in that dark place. Yet here we sit; three hours away in a fascinating city with no local friendships and no idea what is next.

I kind of want to shake my fist in the air at God. Childish yes, but that is what I want to do.  I am questioning His reasoning, His ways. I find myself reminding Him 100 times a day about how much we loved it there, how we wanted to go back (you couldn’t drag most people there, so wanting is a big step in the right direction!) I find myself reminding Him that spiritually it is still very dark, that work-wise A.P. had a lot planned to do.  I find myself incredulous that He would take us out of that hard spot when so few will even consider it. 

But most of all, I am sad.  Tonight, I am sad for the loss of passion and calling that we had for that place.  We look at options before us, and some of them could work, but none of them speak to us right now like M-ville did (there is a far off possibility, but it is far off enough that I find it hard to think seriously about it yet).  When we visited M-ville before even moving there, I knew that we would work there someday and it moved me deeply.  The what-could-be’s that are before us right now don’t stir me in the same way. 

So, I feel like it is a quiet time. Waiting again at the feet of the Father and asking Him to fill me with His calling and passion for where He wants us next.  Quite honestly, I just want to be excited about what comes next, but I know it is a lot more than that.  The deep soul stirring is not there yet and I feel lost without it.  I beg and plead with the Giver of Life that He will stir up His passion in His time.  

Loving It

Darkness is falling around this little house we are occupying for these weeks. The electricity is not back on, so the house slips into the inkiness. Music pours out of the i-pod and the $5 speakers we bought on a whim.   We all squeal with delight as kAkA brings an old fashioned lantern and hangs it on the tree outside the kitchen window.  He probably thinks we are the oddest people.  The three candles I could find in the house are lit on the island.  They illminate the potatoes I peel for supper.

 

A.P. bounces Baby Zar on his knee as he helps Little t put together a puzzle.  They both wear headlights. They giggle together about a piece that found it’s home before resuming their conversation.  The very serious matter of peeing in the toilet and ‘big boy unnies’ and a new bike are at hand.  A.P. says we will go broke if we continue to buy diapers in this land, so a bike (as a reward for potty training) would be cheaper in the long run.

Suddenly the bulb on the outside wall flicks on – a signal of restored power, but the house continues to be enveloped in darkeness. In the words of A.P. ‘this isn’t our first rodeo', so when the power went off last night we turned all of the lights off before going to bed.  The sweetness of returning power is lessened when the glare of lights left on wakes you up in the middle of the night!

I reach for the switch and then stop. My little family…my world…cozy and happy together by candelight. Why invade on this memory with a gleaming bulb?  So I return to my potatoes with a smile plastered across my face. 

The sweetness of the momet is not lost of me and I mentally take note of it.  I want to savor it for the hard days, the heartbreaking days, the insane days. But in the moment, the joy that threatens to burst through is so so good! 

I am so humbled by the blessing of the Father. Here I am; living my dream of life in a foreign land, a good man to lead me and babies to love. It just doesn’t get any better than that. 

***Maybe this incident feels especially special given the uncertainty of what is next for us and the grieving we are doing over what we are being asked to let go of in these days. I have tried to write about this, but have failed until now.  Here is a good post A.P. wrote about it:  http://positivechangebythepeople.blogspot.com/2012/11/i-dont-cry-but-if-i-did-now-would-be.html***

Life Is Good

Life is good. The end. 

I was half tempted to just write that and call it a blog post, but I know it won’t suffice. Once again, I sit here trying to sum up many weeks and tons of transitions into one post and it is overwhelming.  Here is a brief rundown to bring you up to speed.

We made the journey to this side of the world just over two weeks ago.  It went better than we expected, I think. The goodbyes are never easy. While they are hard with kids, they are also somewhat easier because a crying baby and a rambunctious toddler disract me from the tears that are always dangerously close to falling if I think about it too much. 

The kids did great on the trip.  Our layovers were short and sweet…me vowing the whole time that I will never travel with this much junk again.  But then again, the next time I travel, I know my mantra will be the same.  Little t was at a fantastic age for traveling. He was just old enough to listen and understand things like ‘please don’t get out of your chair and bolt down the aisle of the plane when it is taking off’ and ‘don’t kick the seat in front of you’. He aggravated us very little and other people only a few times and really it wasn’t even his fault (but he is my son and it never is, right?!?). Baby Zar did well also. The hard work we had put into sleep training paid off after the flights, but on the flights, she was not a happy camper when she had to be held to sleep. We survived in the end. 

We had a night in Dubai that was great. Manda had never been to Dubai, so we had to take advantage of the time and show her around. We did a little shopping/sightseeing. We then called it a night…in which we were all up and tired to the bone.

The next morning, we got to the airport for our flight feeling like a million bucks.  Seriously, that night of semi-sleep was priceless.  Some of our co-travellers had not gotten that rest and were not thrilled to be flying with our children but we all survived in the end. 

K-town was busy and dusty and dirty and beautiful as always. We stayed with good friends who have boys who are 4 and 2 (who Little t loves) and a little girl 3 days younger than Baby Zar (we had the same due date).  It was good to connect with friends and teammates in that city.

It was also a heartbreaking time because more information came to the surface about the state of things in M-ville and it isn’t good. The troop pullout this summer has been a wildcard that we have been nervously awaiting for a while. When it happened, the tenous security balance teetered out of control.  A large suicide bombing, some assassinations, the kidnapping of some NGO workers, and infighting all came to a head in the span of 2 months. It left our leadership team seriously re-evaluating the place of our NGO in that setting and their first concern were families in that region.  In a meeting with leaders they very seriously addressed their concern for sending us back.  We acknowledged their concern as our hearts were breaking.  We have come to love that place and it’s people more and more each day.  We were so excited to return and dive into relationships again. We left the meetings and K-town with heavy hearts and no clarity or answers.  Since then we have been informed that we will not be able to return to M-ville for the next two years. We are no closer to answers as to what that means for our next steps. Please pr.ay for this with us.

At this point, I sit in the kitchen of a house that has housed people in our organization for years.  We followed through with our plan to come to the North (enduring a terrible experience in the airport in K-town…but every experience there is terrible so if I wrote about it again, It would just be old news to you). Yesterday I heard tales of people (real life heroes of ours) who have lived in this house through the last dozen years.  I met a sweet local couple who grew up in Lal and worked with Grandma Martha there years ago. 

In the midst of all of the unknowns, I am thankful once again to be a part of this organization that is leaving such a legacy of love and service in this land. 

We honestly do not know what tomorrow holds.  Our plan to be in this house for two months and then return to M-ville is on hold (the family we were so desperately hoping would join us has backed out).  Even if security improves, they will not let us return right now. We are exploring other options and enjoying life for what it is right now – time with our kids, time with Manda, getting to know the chAwkidars, enjoying having friends close. Life is good. 

I have been reading the book Jesus Calling and I swear she wrote the entries in the last two weeks just for us.  God is so good to bring reminders of His plan in such beautiful ways.  We will keep you posted on what that looks like in coming days!  These verses have meant a lot to us during this time:

“The one who sent me is with me; he has not left me alone, for I always do what pleases him.”  John 8:29

“Delight yourself in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart.” Psalms 37:4

It is nighttime...

It is 1 am and the house is quiet. The rest of the family sleeps...for now. My body is tired, but my brain continues to go in a million different directions. Lists of what needs to be packed, what needs to be done, who needs to be seen, who needs to be called, what can't forgotten, clog my head.  So much left to do and the minutes tick by.

I struggle with the last days before a major transition. I just want it to be over. If there was a magic wand for goodbyes and packing I would spend a lot of money on it because it is really hard for me. I would rather pretend it doesn't need to happen...but that makes for a really tired and stressed me and a really crabby husband, so I need to get down to business.

We are ready to head back, but face uncertainty as always.  For once in our lives it would be nice to have a little bit of clarity and sanity...but then again what fun would that be, right?

Two weeks ago right before A.P. returned, we Skyped and he sent me photos of our new house in M-ville. It included the renovations that had been made (don't get excited...nothing fancy...just patching holes in ceilings, etc) and the crazy paint colors that were on the walls.  I was excited.  I have packed and planned with that house in mind.  I should have known better.

Last week a bomb ripped through the heart of our city. Killing at least 50 and wounding at least 50 more.  Once again, our plans to return to that city are on hold.  We will still move to the city (Maz) 3 hours away as we have been planning for a while. In the beginning we planned on being in Maz a month or two while we waited for our teammates to return from home assignment.  Now, security takes a nasty turn and we are left wondering how long we will be stationed there.  We have friends and a good community in Maz, so we can't complain, but it still makes us sad.  It is hard to think about friends who grieve in M-ville. It is hard to think about the fantastic interaction A.P. had with those people there and the doors that God is opening in people's lives and how this latest incident could really put a kink into what we think He is doing there.  But then again, He knows better than us how He is working in that place. And He is bigger than bombs and our meager efforts...thankfully.

My eyes are drooping and Baby Zar is stirring.  Hopefully we can both find sleep again soon...