Doxology Days

Every once in awhile I have an urge to sing the doxology:

"Praise God, from Whom all blessings flow;
Praise Him, all creatures here below;
Praise Him above, ye heavenly host;
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost."

Last week it happened as I was walking from my new office to the hotel I'd been staying at. The sun had finally come out after days of rain and clouds and as I walked in that sunlight I reflected on the ways that God had blessed me. There were the big things:

A misunderstanding about my wages cleared up.
A 1,000 dollar mistake in my favor caught.
An apartment found.

There were the small but important things:

A prayer request for a ride to the airport answered.
Lesson plans for the first day of class finished.
Satisfaction over the chance to do good work.

I walked in the sunlight and praised God. I'm grateful for doxology days. There are many kinds of days on earth. Not all of my days are filled with sunshine or spontaneous urges to sing. But my prayer is that more and more in all circumstances God is praised in my life.

I have an Apartment

I am no longer homeless (my homelessness has been spent in the Comfort Inn). I have an apartment. It's a small place, but it's in my price range and it overlooks a pool. Apartment hunting has been depressing. I felt like Goldilocks. One apartment was too small, another apartment reeked of smoke, another apartment's exterior was painted a drab brown gray, one place had a nice view but it smelled of mold. I finally settled on a place that had a nice interior and new carpet, but I hated the view--the bay window overlooked the parking lot. I thought--"For this price I can survive the view". But this morning I resolved to look just a little more and discovered a place that looked nice inside and the view beat looking at a parking lot--it overlooked a pool and the apartment complex's main office (see the top picture).

I was surprised that I had more opinion on these matters than I thought I did, but I still went mostly by gut. Actually, I went a lot by smell. If the smell of a place was even slightly off, I didn't want it. Also, I looked a lot at color. For some reason many of the apartments in the area I was looking in were painted a dark greenish brown or a coral pink. I felt depressed just driving into those complexes.

If all goes well, I move in this Wednesday!

*The pictures at the top were taken from the apartment's website. I would just give a link to their website but for my own safety I don't want to reveal where I live.

**Also, the second picture shows a furnished kitchen. I have miles to go before my kitchen will look like the one in the picture.

Hugs

My two year old niece (soon to be three) loves to play a game called hugs. I sit on the ground and say, "hugs". She runs away from me and then turns around and runs as fast as she can at me. When she reaches me, running at the fastest speed her two year old body can manage, she hugs me. We can play this game for several rounds. I love it. The pictures above were taken while we were playing hugs.

Cookie Experiment

I had to quintuple this batch of cookies. I was trying to double it, but I put way too much salt in it so I tried to save the batch by quintupling it. Let's just say the experiment ended abysmally when a very frustrated Julie stuck all the dough in the freezer. My mom eventually baked all the dough I had abandoned.

Now we have lots and lots of chocolate chip cookies in the freezer. Once I opened the freezer and a container of the cookies slid out into my hands. After the container, a carton of ice cream dropped into my hands. "See," I told myself, "The universe is sending me messages today!"

Overheard Conversations

I sometimes enjoy the snippets of conversations I overhear. Here are two recent ones.

1. Elderly lady walking next to elderly man in the library:

"I want to hold your hand. I haven't seen you all afternoon."

2. Sixth-grade boy to a teacher at my school.

Sixth-grader: "Where did you get your bosoms?"
Teacher: "What!? That is not appropriate to say to a woman."
Sixth-grader: "What's wrong? Patrick said that bosoms was another word for shoes."

Remembering

I'm at my sister's house waiting for my parents to come here (it's five minutes until midnight). They are over at my aunt's place (30 minutes across town). Most likely it was my 85-year old grandma that kept them over there so late (she loves playing card games and insists on playing as many games as possible--sometimes keeping the family up until 1 am).

I'm sitting here at my sister's place listening to dryer and remembering. Seven months ago I sat at this same computer writing about the unknown in front of me. And now the mostly known is in front of me. I can fill in the general lines of my near future. I know where I'll live. I know where I'll work. I know where I'll attend church.

I came back to the states saying that I was going to fight for my future. I was determined to find a job that would give me the time I needed to work on my dreams. I was sure that the best job would be at a community college and yet God has given me so much more than what I was fighting for. I was just hoping for decent hours and decent pay, but it looks like I'll be getting decent hours, decent pay, a city with a large Adventist community, and a mission to boot (working at a school where I can be open about my faith!).

I feel so grateful for the gift God has given me. I still shake my head. This job did not come on my schedule. And yet the delay was a gift. God used this waiting time to draw me closer to Him. In some ways the last couple of months have been tough and yet in other ways the months have been blessed. I have been dependent on my parents and struggling every day to work at a job that I feel inadequate for. And yet God has taken my "bitter waters" and sweetened them with His presence.

I'm sleepy as I write this. It is now 12:15 am. My parents should be home soon. I'll let them in the door and then crawl into my sleeping bag in approximately the same place I slept seven months ago. At that time I fell asleep listening to the quiet of the walls (no geckos, no tokays!) and wondering about my future. Tonight I'll fall asleep wondering about my future still. I'll be wondering what plans does God have for me in Florida? What gifts and struggles and joys and growth does He have ahead for me?

I'm blessed.

Beaus

Tuesday I drove three hours to spend time with a friend and meet her beau.

This entry has really nothing to do with my friend, my trip, or her beau. But it has everything to do with the word beau. Who uses the word beau anymore? It's such a delightful word. Where did it go?

Words. Words. Words. I love them all. I love them so much that when a friend says a word I especially love I might stop her and ask her to say the word again. If some people are foodies, I'm a wordie. I just want to savor the taste of a word.

I think about words a lot. I love finding new words. Earlier this year my students were discussing "goat heads" getting stuck in their shoes and I had to tell them I'd never heard of stickers being referred to as goat heads. But who cares if I have to learn new words from 8th graders; any time I hear a new word or an old word aptly used I get a shiver down my back. Today my "new word" for the day was "pestiferous". It was in the following context: "Every cad's paradise! Paternity without strings! No pestiferous pangs of conscience!"*

Not only do I love learning new words. I love teaching new words. I purposefully use "big" words when I teach my 8th graders just because I hope my students will learn them. For example, they are in the habit of asking me if they will get points for certain class activities and I typically respond with, "No, but you are gaining my approbation." I enjoy being more direct and just telling them about words too. Recently they learned the words anarchy and depreciation. Oh, and they learned that compromise is not pronounced: "com promise" but "com pro mise".

I could talk about words forever, but I'm depriving myself of sleep to write this.
So as to my friend and her beau and my trip to see them. We had a good time. We ate some good Indian food and talked a lot (another yeah for words!).

PS Here is just a small list of some of my favorite words:

tarmac
diaspora
assuage
behoove
balmy
assiduously



*The quote is from 10 Books That Screwed Up the World: And 5 Others that Didn't Help (Nice book, horrible title).

Lima Ranch

One of my favorite places to walk is Lima Ranch. It is a park near my home with three seperate trails. The trails wend their way by two ponds and through open spaces with breathtaking views of the mountains. There are also always a gaggle of geese at the ranch. (Photo credits to my mom. She has been obsessed as me in catching all the beauty of this fall.)

Ten Things I'm Thankful For

This week I'm thankful for . . .

1. The student who said with excitement, "I didn't know that before!"
2. Accidently running into the one of the few people I know in this town at an icecream shop only a little while after wishing I could talk with someone besides my parents. She sat down and chatted with my mom and I for a hour.
3. Being able to talk with my parents.
4. My parents' generosity (My mom got up early just to make me lunch!)
5. Cold weather.
6. That God gave me courage when I needed it.
7. That God gave me a good job (coming soon!)
8. Life's little detours (even my current detour)
9. For discovering that one my hardest students to deal with wrote for her goal this year, "To be good."
10. For being ready for Monday's class tonight (Thursday night) so I can relax and enjoy the weekend coming up with my extended family in St. Helena.

National Anthems

In the morning as I walk across the school courtyard and listen to my students recite the Pledge of Allegiance (I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America. . .) my mind goes back to waking up at my friend's apartment in Ekamai and listening to the Thai national anthem being sung at the school across the street.

Now my mornings are filled with the Pledge of Allegiance and the Star Spangled Banner. But I'm hearing these "old" things in a new way. For example, I overheard the principal talking with a student today about why she refused to stand for the Star Spangled Banner. As I listened to their conversation, I realized that I heard what the principal was saying through the framework of how we might respect Thai royalty. I tried to imagine this same student not standing for the Thai royal anthem. Unimaginable.

Finally Gratefully Gainfully Employed

First things first: I'm now gainfully employed. On Friday, my contact person from Florida called me and offered me a teaching job at an allied health college in Orlando. Yahoo!

When I left Thailand, I knew that it would be a long ride before I found full time employment,and I also knew that I could end up anywhere in the world. I remember constantly wondering where that anywhere in the world would be. I would have never never guessed Florida.

California, Oregon, Washington, but Florida? Not that it's a bad place (well, it is really really flat), but it it is not necessarily on my list of places that I'm dying to live. Florida is not on the bucket list.

But the job is good and despite my complaints about the flatness of the state--I look forward to being near the beach.

I still have some big hurdles: finding a place to live and finding a car are at the top of my hurdle list, but I'm grateful for the small piece of security that having a full time job entails. And while I know very little about what life holds for me in the coming months, I do know one thing--I know where my office is!

Fall

If you have ever lost track of something you love (a picture, a letter, a CD) and then find it again years later, there's a certain pleasure in rediscovering it. You can enjoy both the sense of history the item brings and the first pleasure you had in it. This is how I feel about fall this year. It has been almost seven years since I experienced fall and I'm relishing it. I love the colors (yellows, oranges, bright reds), smells (wood smoke), and sounds (children playing outdoors, people walking their dogs) of fall. I love the cold air and the pumpkins in the store. I love the sense of time moving as the trees darken every day. I even love the rain storms and the and battles I've fought with the wind over my umbrella.

I wanted to capture a little bit of fall in the pictures, but I didn't pull it off. What I could not pull off is the sheer ubiquitousness of the colors. Everywhere I drive there are different shades of orange and red. My favorite place to drive is the road right before my house. You can look down the red-leafed tree lined road and look up to see Mt.Shasta covered in snow.

Why My Grandma Is Cool

Another Brilliant Moment

I had to sub 6th grade today. During the 6th grader's recess, a really sweet girl came up to me and asked if she could warm up her cocoa in the microwave. It's another cold/wet gray day here so I assented to her request. Hot cocoa on a cold day--what could be more perfect? A few minutes later I smelled something terrible. I went to the microwave and I saw something terrible--SMOKE. Ahh! The microwave is on fire! What should I do? I had quick panicky thoughts of fire alarms going off, or having to get my sixth graders somewhere far from a fire and then I looked a little closer and discovered--the microwave was not on fire. Nope, it was just a little bit of smoke coming from the top of the plastic/metal mug my student had heated her cocoa in. Her parents had sent her cocoa in a metal mug with a plastic covering. As a general rule, microwaving metal is a bad idea. Microwaving metal with a plastic covering is an even worse idea. The metal heats up and melts the plastic. Voila! Plastic hot chocolate. The student who had thus heated her chocolate milk had conveniently disappeared while this was all occurring. I found her and told her that the prognosis was bad; her hot cocoa was inoperable.* We tossed the mug and the only dire consequence was a really nasty plastic smell and a glob of melted and then coagulated plastic in the microwave.

Yes, it was just that--another brilliant moment in my life.

*Technically the hot cocoa survived, but both the girl and I agreed that maybe drinking it was not the best idea.

Native Speaker Blah

In Thailand, often the employment ads for English teachers call for native speakers of English. I'm currently surrounded by a lot of native speakers, and well, lets just say we don't always do our language justice.

Just the other day, I heard someone say the following: "We need to get through all that rigor mortem." I think she meant rigmarole. I had to chuckle to myself. I imagine that rigmarole might make us experience rigor mortis.

Lest I sound language righteous. I will confess my English sins. I say, "sawl" over "saw". I say, "foilage" instead of "foliage". I haphazardly pronounce words I have no business saying (words that come by reading instead of listening--anyone else have a book vocabulary?).

While in Asia it's nice to be a "native speaker" because this classification can get us a job, I hope we "native speakers" don't take ourselves too seriously. Yeah for language and all the ways we can flub it up!

I'm here

I'm in my motel room in Orlando. It's 7:50 pm in Cali and 10:50 in Florida. What to do? I have my first of nine interviews at 9:00 am. Ahh..that's 6:00 am my time! My dad says, "God and adrenaline can help you get through the tiredness."

So prayers are much appreciated!

On the plane today I had a lot of time to stare at the ceiling since I got stuck between two men who were not created for economy class. There was just no room for me between them. They weren't fat, just long legged and broad shouldered (yes, yes, Doris...'the well built' sort). This ceiling staring gave me time to reflect on how immense my world feels right now and how small I feel in it.

Blogging While Packing

Yes, I'm packing for my trip to Florida. Okay, I'm taking a moment from my packing to blog. Mostly, because I just looked at my tentative schedule for the next two days and I discovered I have nine interviews. Nine interviews? Well, they are interviews with different people, but couldn't they have gotten it all over with at once? Sigh. I haven't slept for days (nights!). Every morning at unearthly hours (4 am etc.) I wake up thinking either about the interview ahead, the possibility of moving to the east coast, or my current students who I have no earthly idea how to help. There is just a steady hum of nervous energy in my life.

The Kind of Good I Want

"Ill that God blesses is our good,
And unblest good is ill;
And all is right that seems most wrong,
If it be His sweet will."

Hudson Taylor quoted in To China With Love

Father, let all that is good in my life come from you!

On Being Grown Up

I don't feel very grown up so when something "adult-like" happens to me I find it surprising.

My surprise is that a school is paying for me to come interview with them (flight, motel, car rental etc.). I have to resist asking, "You're really going to pay my way for me to come interview with you?" Adults are paid to come for interviews. Adults rent cars (I've never rented one). Adults meet presidents of college's (gulp).

I'm grateful and amused. I'm scared too. I don't want to let them down and I want a job!

I need your prayers. I'll be flying out for this job interview on October 7.

What Love Can Do

Today in class we were discussing family. One of my 8th graders said, "my grandparents really love each other." That's it. Those are the words I want to cling to tonight. I want to dwell on love's legacy.

I look at this student and I see her: happy, intelligent, and confident. I look at her and wonder how much of what is good in life comes from someone else's love? How much of her stability comes from that simple statement: "my grandparents really love each other."

What legacy did her grandparents give her parents? What legacy do they give her?

Layers

We live in layers. Tonight, while listening to the choir I'm in, I was struck with the utter beauty of all the layers of the music. And even as I felt the goosebumps run up my arm, and even as I simply soaked in the music--I thought of Thailand and over the thoughts of Thailand came the layers of my day: the shyness that I feel at work, the students that lingered in my classroom, a soccer match that I watched. Everything overlapped: my present, my recent past, and the music. Everything swirled up and overlapped. We live in layers.

Chris Rice Song

I heard this Chris Rice song "Punchlines and Galaxies" on Pandora today and I have to share it. It's a delightful combination of wonder and relaxation. :)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tQ5SeObCybo

Superpowers & Troubles

I've always wished I had superpowers. It would be cool to freeze time or become invisible, but more than anything else I wish I had the power to intercept trouble when it heads in the direction of my friends' lives. I can just imagine a big bad wad of trouble heading their way and I jump in front of it--KABOOM--I obliterate it. Now THAT would be cool.

This summer I was discussing with a friend some of the struggles she was going through. I told her that I wished I could come between her and those struggles and take them away. She responded that if the troubles had never come she wouldn't know what she knows about herself now.

Now that I'm having my own piddly troubles (they look about the size of a puddle next to other people's lakes), I've been thinking a lot about her words. What are these piddly troubles teaching me? What gift of grace is in them? What blessing should I grab from them?

Day Two

Teaching today was better than yesterday! Phew. There is hope. The day even had its funny moments. Like when I called on a student, Nina, and then another student said, "Hey, how come you know her name and not mine!" I had his name on the tip of my tongue so I thought I could bluff just a little until the name came to me. I said, "Well, uh..." As I was trying to buy time until I remembered his name, Nina looked at me and mouthed his name--"Keen--ney". "Well, Kenny," I said, "What do you think about the Portuguese. . . "

The Night Before the First Day of Class

I've written up my rules. Planned for the first day of class. Gone over and over in my head what I'll say. But I can't sleep. In fact, I rarely can sleep the night before I start teaching a new batch of students. Fifty-eight eighth graders face me tomorrow morning (thankfully, not all at once!). I looked at all their names and wondered about each one of them. What will they be like? I sat in their chairs. (It's good to get perspective.) I prayed in the classroom (It's good to get His perspective.) And well, I can't sleep. But this is a good can't-sleep. It's not anxiety driven as much as it is excitement driven. Hey, hey, I'm getting into this. I can do this.

Why I Like Sleepless Nights

I'm not fond of insomnia. I hate staring at the ceiling, counting sheep, twiddling my thumbs, or saying my ABCs. But I've come to discover that one of my favorite God-times happens typically on a sleepless night.

Recently, I had one of those sleepless nights. I was worried: worried about finding work, worried about my financial situation, and just plain worried (yeah for generalized anxiety!).

After several fruitless hours of moving from my side to my stomach then to my back in search of the perfect position to sleep in, I gave up and turned on my bedside lamp. I pulled out a book of quotes on God's promises and read and read until the spell of worry was broken. I prayed and recommitted my life to God and then I turned off the lamp and found that sleep came easy. In the early morning I was nudged slightly awake. I turned over and felt such a sweet contentment that I had to marvel at the goodness of God. He had turned a sleepless night into a peaceful slumber. What had started as anxiety ended in His comfort.

Sacred Ground

"I found it hallowed ground--sacred because the God was there." Kelli Wilcox, "Treasures" p. 17 AFM Magazine, September 2009

I stepped out of my car on Friday morning and looked at the elementary school in front of me. I prayed, "Lord, is this my next mission?" It seemed a strange place for me to go--teaching at a grade level that makes me nervous. "Father, is this where you want me to be?"

And yet, unlike all the other jobs that I've applied for this job application/interview/hiring process has gone so smoothly that I'm in shock. I applied for the job Thursday, they interviewed me Friday, and hired me Monday. There were even real kinks in the hiring process. My state credential had expired and I was positive that they could not possibly hire me with an expired credential. But it turns out I could get a one-year extension on my credential by filling out some paper work. Simple.

This (I confess) is not exactly where I wanted to end up. I had to go on a special prayer walk this morning to ask God for wisdom. The question that comes over me is: will I be able to handle it? Can I do a good job? MC was a refuge for someone like myself who struggled with classroom management skills.

And yet it seems that God is calling me to this place. I want to find the sacredness of my ordinary calling to teach eighth graders American history. I want to know how God can use me at this school. What plans does He have for me? I plan to prosper by His grace. I plan to teach 8th grade history in a way that glorifies Him.

Missing Thailand

My shoes are on. I have my bag over my shoulder. I'm waiting for some friends to pick me up to go for a hike. When they dropped me off, they gave me their phone number. Since they lived in Thailand, I gave it back to them in Thai. It's just easier to remember that way.

I've been having missing Thailand moments. Yesterday I stepped out of a university's HR office and walked past a large fountain that had a revolving globe in the middle. As I passed the globe, it turned to Thailand. I paused and my eyes watered up. (Silly sentimental me.)

Then today I looked around the congregation at my new local church and I really really missed the MC church. Almost everyone at our church is "older" or "younger" than me (but mostly they are older). I simply miss a younger congregation.

Today will be good though. I'm going on a hike with a nice family and then I'm going to a concert in the park put on by local churches. Life is not without its blessings and yet I miss my other home!

The Experiment

Last week I learned that I'm on the list of possible-canidates for the job opening in Florida (that's the good news); I also learned that they are postponing hiring until January (that's the bad news).

I had some great back up plans if I didn't get any work by September. I was going to substitute teach or go to Korea on a short-term contract. My back up plans have fallen through. They don't need substitute teachers in this area, and Korea doesn't need any workers until mid-October.

I can't say I haven't been disappointed by this turn of events; Laura knows I was a little discouraged when I talked to her on Sunday (yeah for Skype!). But I'm trying to see what adventure can come out of this closing of doors. This looking-for-work can be seen as a great experiment. Where will it lead?


Life's a dance you learn as you go/Sometimes you lead, sometimes you follow/Don't worry about what you don't know/Life's dance you learn as you go Allen Shamblin/Steve Seskin

The Man Who Pushes in the Chairs

He looks normal when he's working on his crossword puzzle (his head bent down over the paper, his pencil poised to answer the questions), but he's not normal. You see he has a singular obsession--straightening the chairs in the library before he sits down. He doesn't straighten just one or two chairs, but all the empty chairs within his purview. Nor does he attend to his self-imposed duty without complaint. He mutters under his breath quite violently (unfortunately he mutters so unintelligibly I cannot report on his conversation). He rocks on his feet a little too while he works away at pushing in all the chairs that were left so dangerously far from their tables. It's a messy world--full of people who forget to push in their chairs, but we must be grateful for the man who pushes in the chairs at the library; he is a hero of order.

Soi Dogs

I've seen my share of awful looking street dogs in Thailand. When I lived in Bangkok, I had nicknames for the mutts; for example, there was "Mohawk"--the dog who only had a strip of hair running down his back. The post below, People Making a Difference, is a magazine article about a woman helping those dogs.

People making a difference: Sheridan Conisbee | csmonitor.com

People making a difference: Sheridan Conisbee | csmonitor.com

Posted using ShareThis

The Wind is Against Me, But I'm Stronger Than the Wind

Several years ago I had a jogging partner who could be delightfully dramatic about things. When we were running together and we had problems like horrible (breath-stealing) hills or annoying gusts of wind, she would say the following, "The hill is against me, but I am stronger than the hill. The wind is against me, but I'm stronger than the wind." It's really a much more poetic way of saying, "This jog sucks."

Well, I'm into poetry today. It's Monday and THIS IS THE WEEK. This is the week the last job of the ten I applied for, should be getting back with me. I'm anxious to check my email and anxious to get a phone call from them BUT it just so happens that my home is phone-line-less and DSL-less until Friday. What? Just when I need the communication lines to remain open, they are closed?

The phone lines are against me, but I'm stronger than the phone! The DSL is against me, but I'm stronger than DSL! (Well, truthfully, as you can see, I do have access to the Internet. It's located a ten minute drive from my house at the public library. Also, the school, that I applied for, has my mom's cell phone number.)

My real hope is that the job won't be against me. But if it is than I'm stronger than it!

Public Libraries

I'm in the public library. This is an interesting place for anthropology. That is to say the weirdest people come here. I've been sitting here listening to a man hold conversations across the room with anyone he feels like. He's asked a man (sitting quite a ways away) if the man was writing songs or letters. He asked another man, "What happened to your nose?" Really, if you're going to yell things across the room to strangers, could you start somewhere else?

When I got here this morning, I pulled up to a man who looked like he lived in his car. Later I walked by a very posh sports car. I guess we are all welcome here. The poor, the rich, the solidly middle class, and the painfully weird.

Big Miracles vs. Small Miracles

I am a huge fan of the dramatic. I like the goose-bump raising stories that show that God was definitely present (something along the lines of crossing the Red Sea). I've been telling God that I could sure appreciate a big miracle. I've even told Him that I think it would make Him look good if He did something really dramatic and obvious. Maybe He could give me a fantastic job in a great city with lots of fun people to get to know. Wouldn't it be clear to everyone what a good God He is if He did something great like that for me? (See, I'm not manipulative at all.) However, I'm also reminded that sometimes God is glorified not just in the big miracles but in the small ones too. Sometimes God is glorified not in a dramatic story (though I'm positive He's a fan of dramatic stories!) but in providing me the grace and strength to live faithfully for Him no matter what my circumstances are.

I think of Moses. It took Moses forty years of faithful (non-glamorous) sheep herding before he ever saw something as astounding as the Red Sea crossing. I know that sometimes God gives me Moses' years. He gives me times where He asks me to serve Him faithfully even when I'm not getting exactly what I wanted or what I prayed for. I haven't given up on my big miracle yet! But I've been praying that if this year is another Moses' year that God will give me the strength to live it gracefully and faithfully, and I pray that He will be honored in how I live His small miracle.

As an aside: Several years ago a friend of mine and I were both having an incredibly tough year. I told her, "I think this is our Moses' year." She said, "But he had 40 0f them!"

Just the Usual Strange

As a general rule strange things happen to me. I've been locked inside at least two bathrooms. I've been pooped on by numerous birds. I've been to sent to a hospital because of a freak skiing accident involving a drunk skier who mistook me for a sled.

Well, recently a very small strange thing happened to me. This involves my car and a slightly illegal action. It all started when two of my best friends from college and I had a little reunion dinner in San Jose. We ate at an Ethiopian restaurant and despite the tiny factor of having to eat with our hands we had a good time. After dinner we walked out of the restaurant and discovered that my car had been locked into the parking lot (the parking lot had a gate and a fence). My heart sunk when I saw my car thus ensconced. I told myself, "remain calm and talk to the owners." My friends and I walked back into the restaurant and we got the attention of our former waitress. I told her, "My car has been locked in the parking lot." She said, "Oh no!" What heart sinkage had already occurred went a little deeper. "Oh no!"? I was hoping along the lines of "it will be okay". But "oh no!" Her response made me wonder if my car would be locked in overnight. The owner (about that time came out) and my friends and I explained our problem. "My car is locked in the garage next door and I would like to get it out." He didn't seem particularly interested in this problem. I told him, "I had no idea that I parked in your neighbor's lot. Is there anyway we could call your neighbor to get the car out?" He said, "No." Me: "Hummm, okay." (This is a nice way to handle not knowing what to say or do next. Just say, 'Hummmmmm.") Then the owner went to the cash register and pulled out a wrench. He said, "Come with me." And "I'm not really supposed to do this." So we followed him out to the parking lot. Again he said, "We don't typically do this." He then taught me a fine lesson in how to break into a bolted gate. He unscrewed the latch that was connected to the dead bolt and then opened the gate. It felt so illegal and yet so right.

The God of Worst Case Scenarios

When I decided to move back to the states, I had a good look at what might happen. I thought about how I could never come home risk free. I counted the risk. I asked myself, what would be the worst case scenario? The worst case scenario would be that I would look for work and not find anything and then be forced to find part time work and scrape by by living with my parents. (I really could have been a little more creative in devising a slightly more devastating worst-case-scenario.)

Right now, my worst-case-scenario seems to becoming true. With the exception of one full time job that I could possibly still get (but I won't know until August 14) there is nothing else on my plate jobwise. I have two weeks with no jobs to apply for and really nothing to do.

I confess I'm longing for specific direction. I anxious to do something while I wait. I've been asking God, "Should I start applying for part time work here?" "Should I send in my resume to Korea?" But the only answer that comes is: wait.

This morning I was praying, "Lord, what am I supposed to do with my day?" And the answer made me laugh. It seemed God said, "Enjoy your vacation."

Father, you know that I'm anxious, and not easily waitable. You know that today, despite my best intentions, I let my fear-of-the-future override my trust in You. Thank you that you are the God of worst case scenarios.

Guidance

I wrote in my prayer journal tonight: "please give me specific direction in my life." Then I flipped open a book called God Has Promised and the paged I turned to quite randomly was "Do You Need Guidance?" I had a good chuckle. Yes, indeed!

Here are some of the quotes that encouraged me:

"Sometimes answers to our prayers come immediately; sometimes we have to wait patiently and continue earnestly to plead for the things we need . . .There are precious promises in the Scriptures to those who wait upon the Lord. We all desire an immediate answer to our prayers, and are tempted to become discouraged if our prayer is not immediately answered . . . .The delay is for our own special benefit." Counsels on Health p. 380,381

As we commit ourselves to the wise Master Worker, He will bring out the pattern of life and character that will be to His own glory. The Desire of Ages, p.331

We need to follow more closely God's plan of life. To do our best in the work that lies nearest, to commit our ways to God, and watch for the indications of His providence--these are rules that ensure safe guidance in the choice of an occupation. Education p. 267

If we surrender our lives to His service, we can never be placed in a position for which God has not made provision. Whatever may be our situation, we have a Guide to direct our way; whatever our perplexities, we have a sure Counselor; whatever our sorrow, bereavement, or loneliness, we have a sympathizing Friend. If in our ignorance we make missteps, Christ does not leave us. His voice, clear and distinct, is heard saying, 'I am the way, the truth, and the life.' Christ's Object Lessons p. 173

If you've ever hated meetings. . .

If you have ever felt like a daywas shot because of a meeting, here's an interesting article to read about it.


http://www.paulgraham.com/makersschedule.html

Some Times Waiting Means Arriving Just in Time

My mom and I are in the same unemployment state. We make (I think) good company. We both pray for each other's work situation. We've both had our ups and downs and almost-maybe-got-that-job-but-no-not-this-one.

Today my mom was sharing with me some wisdom she gleaned by going to the airport yesterday to pick up my dad. She was running late and then she got stuck in this weird traffic jam (at 10:30 at night!) at a toll booth. She got more and more frustrated as the time went by, and the traffic didn't move. She spent thirty minutes sitting there. When she made it to the airport, she also got stuck in some more traffic. When she finally--finally pulled up to the passenger pick up area, my father called to tell her he had his luggage and he was walking out the door. She arrived exactly at the time he walked out the door. She told me she thinks that God was trying to teach her that sometimes delays are meant to get us to where we need to be just at the right time.

Rejection Letters

I had a friend who told me that she once took a class where students were assigned to deal with rejection. (A slightly cruel assignment I might add!) To aid in dealing with rejection students were assigned to go to some social event with lots of strangers and ask ten strangers on a date. (I never asked what would happen if all ten strangers said yes.)

Well, I've never done anything that drastic, but I'm learning to deal with rejection. Here it is: I've applied to eight jobs. I've received five rejection letters, two no-responses, and one come-in-for-an-interview. I went in for the interview, but did not get the job. This could get depressing after awhile, but it's also becoming normal. (Oh dear.)

I must say being rejected for a job holds a lot less of a sting then being personally rejected. When a person rejects me, it is ambiguous (personal rejections rarely come with explanations), but when I get another "thank you for your application, but..." I usually can explain it to myself that my competitors are probably just better candidates. There is not much loss in saying that. I know I'm young, inexperienced, and a non-PhD holder.

I am grateful for the one job interview I did have. It proved that hiring committees are not monsters (they can be genuinely nice people), and it proved that I could interview without falling into the blather-nonsense mode or absolute-silence mode (both stunning ways I deal with stress).

So I'm back in the saddle again today and applying for my nineth job. (This is where the cowboy music starts up. Yipee, kai yeah!) As the proverb goes, "If you fall off a horse, you have to get right back on it." I did have to battle a little voice today that said--applying for another job is useless, and really do you want to get yet another rejection letter? So sure, getting back on the horse isn't easy, but my foot is the stirrup and here it goes again. Wahoo!

I didn't know that

I like learning from people. The other day I went to a party of a sixteen year old that I'd never met. (Don't ask. Well, it has something to do with the pastor's family being invited.) Anyway, a the party I met a woman in her early 70s who had lived in Bangkok when she was five years old. She told me that after Thailand surrendered to Japan that all the foreigners sympathetic with the allies were rounded up and put in prison camps. She with her family were put in a camp at Thammasat University. The camp was guarded by Thais and not by the Japanese. The Thai guards were fairly kind captors. They even threw green mangoes into the camp for the prisoners on occasion. She told me that they were fed rice and water buffalo meat and on occasion their friends could bring them vegetables.

The woman I met told me that after six months her family was sent to Mozambique and exchanged for Japanese prisoners there. Eventually after the war her family returned to Thailand and her dad worked at Mission hospital.

Well, that's my history lesson today. I have more yet to learn on the topic! So I guess it's not always a bad thing to go to parties for people you don't know. You never know who you might meet.

Thy Will Be Done: A Quote

"But is this prayer, 'Thy will be done,' not after all a secret surrender of what one has prayed for? That is not the case. It does not mean: 'I am not happy about my petition, dear heavenly Father . . . It was intended only provisionally, and I would rather take it back. . . yes, Father I renounce my bread. Thy will shall not be bound by my little wishes. Thy will shall sweep onwards great and sublime over my little, little affairs.' This is just what the words 'Thy will be done' do not mean. They mean: 'Thou undestandest my prayer better than I understand it myself (Rom 8:16). Thou knowest whether I most need hunger or bread. Whatever may come, I will say 'Yes, dear Lord' (Matt 15:17). For I know that in everything thy will gives fulfillment--beyond my asking and my comprehension (Eph 3:20)."

p. 20, Between God and Satan, Helmut Thielicke

Hoops to Jump Through

Getting work has always come easy for me so I guess I'm getting a taste of "the real world". The HR office at the college I'm applying to work for just called. They told me that I'll need to come in on July 13. I'll be given an exam (which they refrained to tell me what the exam will be about!) and then given fifteen minutes to prepare for my interview, an interview, then fifteen more minutes to do a teaching demonstration. If I pass at that level, I'll be called in with two other finalist to do another interview on July 27. Talk about lessons in controlling nervousness!

It's funny to pray to get a job. What about the other people applying for the same job? I suppose then the prayer is: may I get the job if I can do it well and be a blessing to this school and if this is a good place for me to be in my life!

Well, I'm going to start studying. This is something I've been wanting to anyway. I need to brush up on education theory and specifically composition theory. I also might relook through a grammar book just in case my exam is over grammar.

God & Desire

"Hast thou not seen how thy desires have been/Granted in what he ordainth."


I'm still thinking about desires and wrestling with the relationship between my desires and God's will. This morning I was thinking about how I would never want to want something so badly that I gave God the job of official-approver-of-what-I-want. "Here Father, this is what I want. Did I hear you say, yes?"


When it comes to desires, I think God is involved in the process from the very beginning. I've noticed that through different life experiences (some not so pleasant I might add!) God has been revealing to me what my heart's desires are.


But now that I can clearly articulate what I want, I realize that He wants my desires. The things I long for I turn over to Him. Those dreams and desires are safe with Him. He knows better than me how to get to place where I want to go. While I have an inkling of how I can get what I want, I really don't know the best way to get there. How lucky I am to have a God who is better at reading maps than me!

Also, my desires are safe with Him because He knows my desires better than me. I read a story recently about Augustine's mother. She prayed desperately for him to stay near her so she could influence him for good, but he went to another country. In that country, he found God. God did not answer her prayer that Augustine would stay near her so He could answer her ultimate prayer that her son would follow God. God answers my ultimate desires.

My specific desire right now is to find a job where I can have enough free time to write, but God knows my ultimate desires. If He has to forgo a specific desire to reach the ultimate desires of my life for now--then I'm blessed--even though I might not see the blessing in a detour.

But what I see more and more is that beyond my earthly dreams God has planted a deeper desire. He has planted a desire for Him. He has put eternity in my heart (Ecc. 3:11). Or as Augustine once prayed, "You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it rests in you."

**I wrote most of this post this morning and decided to sit on it some more to think about it. I was just crawling in bed and to read before I went to sleep I got out the Desire of Ages and read the following in the preface:

"Most of use, whatever our race or station in life, long for something better than we now possess. God Himself has planted this desire in our nature, that we may not be satisfied with present attainments whether bad, or good, or better. God desires that we shall seek the best, and find it. Often these longings are perverted. We may try to satisfy our desires with pleasures, money, creature comforts, and power. But these things eventually prove empty and unsatisfying, leaving our lives empty. God designs that our hearts' desires should lead to the One who alone is able to satisfy them. He wants us to find Jesus the Christ, the Son of the Eternal God. "For in Him (Christ) all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell."

I thought how appropriate the paragraph was for my musings today. I suppose it's even more appropriate that the book is titled The Desire of Ages.

God of desires and my Desire--bless this life written here.

Job Interview

I have a job interview. I've been so excited about this that there isn't much more I can do today that is useful or functional. (I did manage to clean out some of my files though.) I don't know if this is the real deal (the job I'll get) or just a practice run. (I've been trying to think of all applications and all job interviews as practices since they take so so much work.) But I like how the next couple of days might determine the next chapter in my life. So will I end up in Chula Vista? Or will I end up somewhere else? Is this just a little blip in my life as in "yeah, I interviewed for a job there once" or is it a going to be a place where I get to carve out my new life? Time will tell (very soon!)

Desire

In some cultures people will name their kids horrible names to throw off the gods. So a kid might end up with a name like Not-Pretty-Face or Stinky-Snot-Nosed-One. This is so the gods will not suspect that the kids are actually beautiful or cherished. I might laugh at this (really, could gods be so stupid?) but I understand the spirit of it.

How comfortable am I with my own desires? Why is it that if I really want something that I feel that I must pretend that I don't want it? It is better this way. Don't let the "gods" know that I want X job. Don't let the "gods" know that I would love to date X fellow. If I can just stuff my desires down and hide them deep then maybe just maybe I'll get what I want.

But the funny thing is. I don't serve a god; I serve God. And the longer I live the more I think that God is not scared of my desires. I do think that God has a plan and a will and dreams for my life, but I also think that He engages in a dance with my own desires. This dance is called prayer.

I'm writing this because this morning I woke up and and the first thing I said was, "Lord, now that I know what I want are you going to leave me here to struggle to get this on my own?" I started to laugh at myself. Why would God be with me more when I was clueless than when I knew what I wanted? Why does knowing what I want make me so vulnerable now? Why does it almost seem wrong to have a dream, a passion, an aim?

Many old paintings of Christ in American culture portrayed him as effeminate, white, washed out, and tepid. It's easy to think that mildness is holiness. We think not wanting anything will make us really good people. "No, it's okay, I didn't really want that anyways." But what if we are wrong? What if God has called us to dream? To live, to risk? To venture out and make mistakes? What if He simply loves our desires?

Father, be the God of my desires. Give me the courage to dream. Thank you that you know what I want and that we are on this adventure together.

PS I offer only one caveat. There are some desires that will harm us (whether they are expressly forbidden in the Bible or whether their fulfillment leads us away from God). When it comes to those desires, I think God is gracious and will replace them with other gifts and other passions.

Sometimes . . .

Sometimes the sad things in life are terrifically funny and THAT is God's gift for our sanity.

To Do Lists

I have a to do list which is funny because I don't have much to do (hence, all the blogs I've been writing lately). I've turned in most of the job applications that I can at this point, and now I am in the long painful wait for some response (any response!). I'll be sending off two applications (that I've pretty much finished) tomorrow and then the next application isn't due until July 15. I've been debating if I should do some temp work or not. I wouldn't mind the cash, but I don't want to be tied to a job if I need to go to an interview. For now, I'll just keep waiting.

But coming back to the to do list. It just gives me a small sense of control and structure. I didn't even finish ALL the things I had on my to do list today which in a peculiar way makes me happy. But I did have time to read one of my favorite blogs: freakonomics. And I did have time to watch TED videos for two hours (I feel very educated tonight). And I had time to browse Facebook and I had time to have real devotions (versus the more recent--"good morning Father, please be near me today, Amen" dash-out-the-door.

Well, I'm going to bed. Since I have the luxury of time now, I'm hoping for a good nights sleep.

Link to Wedding Pictures

I just looked through some of the pictures that my friend's wedding photographer took on Sunday.

http://patrickpikefilms.blogspot.com/

If you have time, take a look. He's a great photographer. I'll also add that we liked him because he seemed to enjoy what he was doing.

On Saying Goodbye

I've had very little time to grieve leaving Thailand since I've come back to the states. I've been either a) working hard on job applications b) spending much needed time with family c) helping my friend get married (wahoo on the last!). The whole month of June has flown by. Then on Saturday saying goodbye caught up with me. At (I might add) a really awkward moment. During my friend's rehearsal dinner, I chatted with a woman who had lived in Singapore for fifteen years. She used to work at SAUC and she even taught some of the same classes I taught at MC. In the middle of her telling me about her time at SAUC, my eyes started to water. I had that horrible--oh-no-I'm-going-to-cry feeling. I fought very hard not to cry. (I didn't know this lady and the thought of explaining to her why her story about teaching news writing at SAUC made me cry seemed a bit difficult.) I didn't cry in the end. Whew. But after my friend's wedding (the next day) when I no longer had other things to focus on I had a good hearty cry on my drive to my sister's house.

I'm finally home tonight. I am grateful for two gifts. One is a poster I found that I made in 2001 of my life experiences. (It was for a class.) I find looking at the pictures comforting. Yeah, look, I did have a life before Thailand. :) Then I also found a poem I wrote in 1998. I wrote it when I was leaving another country (Marshall Islands). It seemed especially apropos to my life right now. The poem comes out of a time I sat on a dock at night watching the water. So here it is:

On The Dock

I am cold tonight
Lend me your light

I am alone
Come near me

I have left
All that I love

And I face this water
Of uncertainty

Dark waters
Stretch before me

But for one
Sliver of your moonlight
I would despair

gainful

This morning I was musing about the word gainfully. Why are people "gainfully employed" and not just employed?

So I looked up the word gainfully. It means having gain. Yeah, no kidding. Not very helpful. So then I looked up gainful. Here it is (drum roll please):

producing gain; profitable.

I guess if you are ungainfully employed you're working a job that is not very profitable. Anyone feel that way? Ha!

Well, I was thinking that I am gainfully unemployed. Yes, I'm working on making some life profit. That's a philosophical way of saying, "I'm going broke." Really, there are some advantages to not having a job. Like, today I was thinking of finishing my eight hour trip home from my friend's wedding (I stopped half-way to sleep at my sister's house), but I changed my plans so that I could meet some friends for lunch. Flexibility is nice.

Pre-wedding mishaps

What can you imagine will go wrong for a bride? Her hair might be out of place? The cake might not arrive in time? Well, this weekend. . . my friend added a new one to the list. A bear might just steal the show. Granted the show the bear stole was not the wedding but the rehearsal dinner. Just as soon as my friend had everyone's attention (we were all talking quite loudly) and just as soon as she started explaining what our duties were for the wedding --a bear came galumphing across the edge of the picnic area we were eating at. Now to add to the spice, the bear was carrying a backpack in his mouth. Naughty bear! And yet while I felt some pity for the rock climber who left her pack at the bottom of the cliff--the image of the bear backpack in mouth running for a safe place to investigate his snacks amused me.

Days Going By

The days are sliding by. I've spent most of them inside working on applying for jobs, but I've had good breaks. My family is here. Brother, sis, sis-in-law, parents, and kiddos (Sophia, 6 years old; Anders, 4 years old, and Bella, 2 years old). The kiddos break up the routine of work. They make me laugh. Today I was in charge of keeping them occupied. My sister and my mom were putting some final touches on an Italian dinner (fettuccine, eggplant Parmesan, garlic bread, Greek salad, and green beans), and the kiddos were getting underfoot. I took them outside and we played with bubbles. Bella especially loved chasing the bubbles with her tongue out. I suppose they are better if you can taste them!

Today was my sister's birthday. She actually made the food for herself (oh, I helped fry the eggplants--as my friends know I'm a master at little things!). Bella's two year old happy birthday greeting for my sister was, "happy to you, cake?" Well, I think she has the basics down. Yeah for cake! We also had ice cream. Five different kinds and I still ate the same one I had last time we ate ice cream: Mint chocolate moose tracks. The vanilla with fresh strawberries was awfully tempting though. But no...I must stick with mint chocolate!

So I guess I'm meandering in this blog. I'm listening to the dish washer and my uncle and sis-in-law talk shop about photography and website creation. This is just a calm end of a pleasant day. I've had another quiet day. Not much need to talk. Oh, and when I did finally have the urge to speak tonight I told this story that I realized had no point and didn't know how to wrap it up. I had to laugh about that. There's something somewhat horrible and funny about starting valiantly into a story and realizing that the story is going no where. I usually want to wrap things up as quickly as possible to get over the awkward pause when someone else has to look for a way to repick up the conversation.

Tomorrow I return to Sacramento. Gasp. Before I go I have some clothes to find for a wedding I'll be in this weekend back in Yosemite. The clothes are most likely on the bottom of five heavy boxes (that's where the shoes were and I forgot to look for this item of clothing when I was hunting for those darn shoes!). I pretty much tore up the garage looking for those shoes.

I'm going to bed soon. The mad dash of a day that will come tomorrow should motivate me to make my bed and get in it! But one more thing:

Whenever I fly I always look down at the houses and wonder what is happening inside. Tonight my uncle set his camera on a tripod and we took several family photos. As we were taking the photos...I thought..."this is what is happening in THIS house." This is my story. My little life lived in a small house among a bunch of people saying, "cheeeeeeeeeeese."

Funny Dream

Last night I dreamt I had a gecko friend. This gecko could talk and he told me he liked me because I played tennis.

Funny, I know of no talking geckos (except the ones in the GEICO insurance ads) and I don't play tennis.

A Little Surprise

I'm typing this in the dark on my bed in the cabin my family is renting. My youngest niece is sleeping near me and my oldest niece is using my laptop screen light to read. I'm trying to type quietly. Hmph. Try to type quietly.

I just had a funny thing happen. The kind of funny thing that happens to me. I was walking back from taking out the trash and I ran into Marcus L. playing with his friends outside the camp's meeting house (it is an SDA camp). "Marcus," I said, "Where's your mother?" He looked at me as if it was the most normal thing in the world to see me in California. "She's inside." I eventually found Elizabeth and we talked for awhile. While we were talking, the kids from her church (she's up here on a church retreat and I'm up here on a family reunion), kept running around us saying that they had seen a bear. This is plausible--I saw two bears yesterday. I had to laugh. Who would have thought Elizabeth and I would be in the mountains of California surrounded by little children yelling excitedly about bears? I was so grateful to have someone to talk with about Thailand.

Big Trees!

This afternoon my family went to Mariposa Grove in Yosemite. The trees here are well--big. Okay, they deserve an exclamation point. They are big! Tragically, (see, I say this with a sniff) it was very cold today and I only lasted out in the grove for about 15 minutes before I went back in. (Someone told me that if I walked a little farther up into the grove I would see snow.) We asked how far was a little farther and he said, "Three hours." Hmm...

My niece is sitting next to me watching me blog and she said I need to add that she is with me in this picture. Yup. That's Olivia beside me. When I was younger, we used to like to take pictures with our whole family holding hands around the trees.

You Have a Plan

A prayer:

Father,

Today, I tried to sound brave and intelligent when I was talking with my friends about what I'm going to do now that I'm home. Thank you for reminding me tonight that whether I'm brave or not-brave; whether I go confidently or not-so-confidently--you have a plan.

Home

There are no geckos here. No tokays. In fact, there seem to be no cicadas either. My sister's house is so quiet. Last night I laid awake for awhile marveling about how quiet it is here. I didn't sleep very much--jet lag messes with your mind a little. I was up by 4 am ready to eat supper since it was 6 pm in Thailand.

The quietness is just one of the small adjustments I'm making to being here. Last night as we left San Francisco and as I watched the lights of the city fade behind me, I felt this sadness/fear in the pit of my stomach. I wondered, "Can I really pull this off?" No, I'm not having second thoughts about my decision to come home, but I just feel far away from my home. I mean that on both levels: far from my Thai home and far emotionally from my American home.

I know the good things will start coming soon. Already this weekend I'm getting together with two friends. I reminded myself this morning that I felt this way last year and that by the end of the summer I was sad to leave the states. Also, I told myself, "God is still leading. He was with you in Thailand and he'll be with you as you shape your new life in California."

Taipei Airport

I just heard an announcement for a flight to Bangkok. I momentarily felt like I should get up--shouldn't my flight depart for Bangkok?

I'm sitting on the carpeted floor of the Taipei airport--leaning against the wall with my bare feet in front of me. For the longest time sitting here, I thought I heard the sound of water. I wondered where the fountain was and then it hit me that the sound of water was the air con vents above me. So much for poetry!

But there are other kinds of poetry here. There is the flute music playing from a shop near by and the wall in front of me lined with Chinese calligraphy wall hangings. It's a pleasant layover.

Music and the Internet makes this stopover go quickly. I have eleven more hours and then a two hour drive and then a bed. I know somewhere in those eleven hours I will look at the ceiling of the plane and simply long for a bed--something flat and stretch-outable on.

They are still calling for the Bangkok flight. "Please proceed immediately to Gate B5." My gate is C3 (the Hello Kitty Gate, yes the Gate is Decorated in Pink). B5 or C3; my compass is not set right.

Bedbugs

I brought back a gift from Vietnam. Bedbugs. Or more like it--bedbug bites. These are no ordinary bites. My arms and legs are covered in red welts. I look like an illustration out of medical textbook.

So here is my life: I've had lice, worms, and now bedbugs! (I hope I haven't grossed anyone out.)The lice and worms were gifts of a childhood lived outdoors (running barefoot outside and chillin with my little gang of friends who happened to have lice problems--hey, we used to pick each other's lice for fun!)

Now, to give myself a positive spin on my current state of itchiness, I tell myself that these bedbugs are just a gift of my adulthood--travel!!

So if you see me around, be careful, though I'm not contagious, I have the ability to inspire itchiness.

A Rainbow

All the colors seem sharper at MC since I came back from my brief trip to Vietnam. The greens are greener; the blues, bluer. I've just been walking around the campus admiring how beautiful it is here. I usually get this feeling when I return to MC. I suppose if you spend too many days here then campus's beauty becomes muted.

On my ride back to MC from Bangkok, I saw an incredible rainbow (if you could call it that since it was in the shape of a circle). It was formed in a small break in the clouds where the sun was shining through. It was as if God took a bucket of colors and spilled them all over the clouds. The colors spread out in every direction: bright yellows, blues, and reds. I gazed at it from the van window and actually wondered if I was seeing a vision. "Is this real?" I asked myself. It looked so much like the pictures we Adventist make of the second coming. I had several texts come to my mind from the Bible. "The Lord himself shall descend with the trump with the voice of an archangel and the dead in Christ shall rise first." "And I saw a new heaven and a new earth...behold the old was gone." And I thought of the martyr Stephen looking into the heavens and seeing God.

It was strange. I was having an ordinary trip back from Bangkok--somewhat bored and uncomfortable in the van--and then out of no where this rainbow comes. It was a small gift. "The rainbow is a promise."

Kindness

I spent most of the day (once again) happily unaware of the time. In the morning I wandered around Ho Chi Minh City centre with Vy's younger sister. Then in the afternoon I went shopping and wandering (there was probably too much wandering!)

As I was walking down the side walk, I accidently stubbed my toe on a part of the sidewalk where the brick of the side walk had been broken up a little. This all happened near a group of people sitting around a little table on the side walk. "You have to be careful of the side walks," one of the men yelled at me. Then as I walked a little closer to him he looked at my toe and announced, "It's bleeding!" His friends then all started to swarm me. One grabbed the stool she was sitting on and insisted I sit down. Another jumped up and ran into a store to grab some bandaids (he rushed like I was bleeding to death). They all asked if I was okay and looked at my toe. I'd never received so much attention for a bleeding toe.The man with band aids returned from the store and the one who had originally warned me of the dangers of sidewalks gently put the band aid on my toe. He then said, "I'm a cyclo driver. I'll take you back to your motel for free." I declined. I sat there with them for just a couple of minutes. There was a cyclo driver, a young policeman (he was the one who rushed for the bandaids), a seller of photocopied books, and a man without an arm. They are generally the kind of people I try not to make eye contact with. Generally, because I don't want to be asked a number of times if I want to buy photocopied book or if I would like to take a cyclo ride. But after I left them I felt like smiling especially at all the cyclo drivers. Kindness!

Rainy Evening

I've been walking in the rain--I attempt to walk on the sidewalks--which like many places in Asia really aren't sidewalks (they are motorcycle parks, food vendor territory, and places for people to sit and socialize). I just came back from a coffee shop. I found a nice chair there near a window to read. It's a good life.

Yet the day was not without its troubles. Actually the trouble was somewhat amusing if not tragic. The trouble was my tour guide. (I went on a tour of a place where the Viet Cong used to hide in tunnels.) The tour guide was this man who was a peculiar mix of anger, bravado, and brokenness. His tour consisted of a recounting of the history of wars in Vietnam (starting with the French in the 1800s) and his own life story (a playboy father who abandoned him, years spent in reeducation camps because he fought with the Americans, famous people he hob-knobbed with.) He knew so many famous people and he had been at so many famous moments in Vietnamese recent history that his story had a Forest Gumpian fictional feel to it. He also hated everyone and everything. He hated the Americans for coming and he hated them for leaving. He hated his life. And he hated tourists. (Yes, he told us two times--maybe three--that the Communists ruined his life because they wouldn't let him do any job but be a tour guide and that he hated tourists because they were arrogant and cheap.)

Despite his hatred for us he really liked to talk and talk. At times he could be interesting and he had a natural flair for teaching as well as occasional humor that showed through all his anger.
But overall I had the impression that he would be the kind of man that would go to a bar, drink all night, and corner anyone to hear his story. Sometimes I simply couldn't bear listening to him anymore and I would simply look out the bus window and observe the green green fields that we were driving past. I felt much pity for him and wished there was something I could do for him, some kindness that I could show him, but I could think of nothing. After the tour was over I tried to shake off the sadness that soaked into my skin from it. (It's hard to explain but I often feel unprotected from other people's emotions.)

The bright part of my day came from two Singaporeans befriended me on the tour. They bought me a Coke, took pictures with me, and even worried out loud if I was surviving under our tour guides hail of anti-American comments. I laughed and said, "Well, what was I to expect?"

Vietnam, Day 2

I'm sitting in an Internet cafe listening to the man beside me describe his travels in Asia. Today was a long but good day--and it's not over yet (I have shopping yet to do!!) :)


I took a city tour of Ho Chi Minh City with nine other women (funny how no men took the tour--maybe they're more comfortable going on their own.)


We did the usual shopping (yeah, I'm spending millions of dong!) but we also went to a museum for war crimes (US war crimes). The musuem was pretty painful. I almost cried a couple of times. It's hard to see pictures of Americans torturing Vietnamese. I want to think/dream/hope that my countrymen would be above that. The choking up though was for the Americans and the Vietnamese.


One intriguing part of the museum was a section dedicated to war photographers killed in the conflict. For each photographer who died, there was a collection of the last photographs he took. It's sobering to look at the last photographs a person took.

Vietnam II, A Less Serious Post

So tourists are generally dangers to themselves the first couple hours in a new city. The major dangers are traffic and money.

There were many things I observed when I stepped out of the airport, the cool breeze blowing, the ease at which I found my hotel pick up man (even if he was holding a sign that said Julte Cook), but I failed to notice that traffic ran on the right side of the road. I might have failed to notice this detail since traffic seemed to come from many directions. So tonight I was expecting traffic to come from a different direction so imagine my surprise when it didn't! Once I figured that detail out I also realized that I need to brush up on my city-street walking skills (something I was more adept at when I lived in Taipei and Bangkok). Traffic doesn't really stop here. I need to overcome my fear of having motorbikes swirl around me.

Then there is the minor detail of getting money from the ATM. I was confronted with 500,000; 1, 000,000; 2,000,000; 3,000,000 etc. I simply panicked seeing such high numbers. I knew that it was 18,000 dong to 1 dollar but I couldn't do my math fast enough to figure out how much money I was actually taking out. I had this nightmare that I would accidently take out all of my checking out in one accidental swipe. I ended up taking out 220,000 dong. I figured out later I took out 12 bucks. I hope I didn't get charged 9 dollars (like I did once) for withdrawing money internationally! Argh!

Vietnam

I remember being seven years old and listening to my dad's coworker talk about how when he was in Vietnam they put a Christmas tree on top of all the body bags they had stacked on Christmas day. Vietnam has always been a time and not a place.

I was raised on Vietnam stories and movies. People I know were personally affected by Vietnam (whether through the loss of a loved one or the loss of innocence). (I remember a friend telling me, "Yes, my mother said my dad was never the same after Vietnam.") It was (and to still a degree) the largest wound that America has ever born. It is a word that still evokes much rancor: "We don't want another Vietnam." [or] "This is becoming another Vietnam."

So I'm writing this in Vietnam tonight. There is not much here yet that makes me think of an old war (is the war old now?). There's just motorbikes beyond imagination, houses painted a dozen different colors (purple, blue, yellow, green), people sitting on door stoops, and tourists drinking beer in outdoor cafes. It's just an ordinary day in an ordinary city.

I Never Would Have Known

I'm sorry guys; I'm getting sentimental. Here's today's daily dose of sentimentality.

If I'd never come to Thailand, I never would have
eaten mangosteen
or learned that avocados could be a dessert.
I never would have
admired a monarchy, shaken hands with a princess, or fallen in love with the Prince of Bhutan. (The Prince of Bhutan!)
I never would have had a monk ask me to marry him or seen an elephant in the wild.
I never would have learned the word invigilate.
I never would have come to love a dozen countries other than my own or be astounded at how diverse Asia is.
I would have never learned to drive on the left side of the road.
I would have never said, "I go first." "Can!" or "Same, Same."
I would have never ended a sentence with na, or ka, or la.
I would never have come to admire politeness or bargained for a t-shirt. (What you're giving me a five baht discount? Amazing!)
I never would have gotten a 5 dollar massage or grown tired of Thai food (Please just give me a burrito!)
I never would known the value of a wai or the amusement that comes when I get spotted by a little kid. "Forang, forang!" (Yes, that's me!)
I never would have come to know Bangkok better than any city in the US or come to love a country so much as Thailand.

A Small Game I Play

I have a secret and I'm almost scared to tell it. The secret is that sometimes I play a little game when I'm talking to people. I call it my right-here-right-now-Lord-help-me-focus game. (Yeah, it's kind of a long name.) Okay, really, I don't have a name for it; it's just something I do. You see I like to pray when I talk to people. My prayer usually runs along the following lines: "Please Lord, help me to listen well to this person, and help me to bless this person now."

It's kind of a fun game. Today I remembered to play it. I was at the cafe at 11:40 am to eat. I sat with some friends for awhile, but they had to go and then a coworker I don't know very well joined me. So the person-I-don't-know-very-well and I sat and chatted and I prayed. Was there any major revelations in the conversation? No. Did I change her life? I highly doubt it. Will this person and I become bosom buddies? Probably not. But for 15 minutes I had a chance to just ask God to bless my 11:40 am lunch partner.

I wasn't sure if I should share this game or not...now anytime you see me you might start feeling suspicious. "Oh, no she's praying again! Watch out!" But I want to invite you to join me. Pray for the people you talk with. We all live busy lives and sometimes it's hard to see the people that are right in front of us. Prayer gives us the gift of loving the very person sent to us in the very moment that God has given us to live.

Thankful

I'm surprised on some days to discover that I'm thankful that I don't have a job, and that I don't know where I'm going to be in the coming months. I'm thankful that God has given me the gift of the UNKNOWN.

We like to think of God's guidance as showing up when He opens doors for us. An opportunity presents itself and we say, "This must be God's leading." But recently God has opened no doors for me. He has only closed one door (staying in Thailand) and asked me to take one step and wait for further directions.

So this is it. I have my ticket bought. I know the day I'm leaving. I know that my parents will take me in until I find work (yeah for parents!), but beyond that I don't know much more.

It is this not-knowing-much-more which has increased my prayer life. It has made me purposely go to God every night and pray, "Please, help me. I need work!"

Dr. Kai recently gave a talk on change for chapel. He said that God uses change to work on us. So this is God working on me. Thank you Father for change.

April 28, 2009!

I have student who loves to use exclamation points in his writing. Usually he uses them after his name, (i.e, K!) but today he wrote on his quiz: April 28, 2009!

I had to laugh. Maybe he has something right about the world. Maybe just for a moment we can be excited that today is April 28, 2009!

Bread and Cheese

Today I ate rice for breakfast, rice for lunch and rice for supper. Then I watched an Oprah show about the best sandwich shops in the states. This was all very very cruel.

10 Mini-blog Entries in One

These are all little blog entries combined.

1. Last night I dreamt there was a storm so wild that I was blown by the wind into the air and I "flew" until I found a tree to hang onto.

2. The smell of rotting mangoes on the walk to the cafeteria makes me happy. It is the smell I remember from living one month in Hawaii when I was six.

3. I killed all of my house mate's fish yesterday. I was pretty upset when I came home to find their bloated bodies floating on top of the fish tank. I had turned off their oxygen supply and forgot to turn it back on.

4. This week I learned that ruthless used to have an opposite--ruth. So you can be full of ruth! (Full of mercy.)

5. I'm thankful for journals. I woke up Thursday morning feeling discouraged. I went through my journals and read the entries for the last year. I was reminded that God has been with me through all my ups and downs and He is still with me!

6. I laid awake last night thinking about how much I hate the weather in Thailand in April. Miserable. My air con does work, but the sound of it keeps me awake.

7. My favorite place to think is on my floor. I spread a blanket on the floor at the end of my bed and think there.

8. I have the following written on my desk at work, "Anij yokwe yuk". (The last work is not pronounced yuck, but yuke.) It's Marshallese for "God loves you." I don't know. I scribbled it there a couple of weeks ago. Maybe I just needed the reminder.

9. My student wrote the following sentence today that puzzled and amused me. He wrote, "Stop going down cheeseless tunnels." I wonder why.

10. I'm so grateful that the school year is wrapping up and yet I'm in complete denial that I'm going home.