Joy Marie

Haiti follow-up

2010-07-29T11:17:00.001-04:00

Hi, everyone!

Hope the summer continues on in prosperity, fruitfulness, rest… hopefully we’re not too busy jumping from one busyness to the next to reflect on our lives. I’ve lately been doing a lot of that – especially since my trip to Haiti. In a land of such desolation, in the face of such tragedy, I find hope very much alive; alive in people’s stories and eyes… hope dies hard. Interestingly, I just read in Psalm 119:116b, “….And do not let me be ashamed of my hope.” It’s easy to equate hope with naivete. Let’s refuse to belittle hope in this way, as it alone has sustained and it alone will propel people like those in Haiti towards a better future.

We arrived in Haiti and I immediately hit a brick wall… of humidity. We had late luggage and even later pickup (about 3 hours late). As you know, I was accompanied on this trip by brothers Jimmy (28) and Jason (15). We sat outside arrivals, in a breezeway of sorts, next to a cellphone cart and a trash pile. We finally trekked to the team house after enduring a brief but devastating tour of downtown Port au Prince (tragic). We set up tents on a concrete slab and planned the week.

First, a word to the state of Port au Prince: I barely recognized it. Stacks of rubble 10 or 12 feet high piled in the medians, having simply been shoved there for lack of anywhere else to put it. Roads completely cracked down the middle. Tent villages are proliferate, “Red Cross” and “UN” and “UNICEF” logos everywhere, billowing like flags of Western philanthropy (for which the people are nothing but grateful, if a bit greedy). One tent village is built on top of a mass burial ground (150,000 bodies). People still wander the streets in droves, looking lost. There is such a feeling (again, still) of disorientation. So many homes were lost, so many people displaced… no one knows where to go or what to do. We found a teenage boy left for dead on the side of the streets – severely malnourished with wounds from what appeared to be abuse. We got a truck and took him to get medical attention but as we talked to the translators about it, he shook his head and said, “this is very common for us.”

The first-hand reports we heard of the earthquake included the following: People simply ran out into the streets… hurt people, dying people, people missing limbs, people having babies, all in the street. There was no medical triage: it was first come, first serve and there was nowhere else to go. The congestion consisted not only of Port au Prince residents but anyone on the outskirts who could make it on foot into the city, seeking help. Finally the stench of rotting flesh overwhelmed, resulting in the necessary if somewhat insensitive mass burial movement.

People felt like the earth was spinning or shaking… many said they felt seasick for 3 days or more. Most of them had never lived through an earthquake, didn’t know what it was, and didn’t know what to do. In one family we met, the mother said that when the earthquake happened, she ran inside “for cover” but her 3 year old son started screaming at her to get out… he died and she escaped in time. Another woman was trapped for 2 days underneath her home before finally being pulled clear. She lost her left arm and is now afraid to go indoors.

People who had scraps to begin with now had nothing. People who had jobs are still too disoriented to find out if their employers or employment even still exists. Obviously social and economic infrastructure is virtually non-existent.

We walked down streets and taught in a school… we fed children who shoved handfuls of mayonnaise covered spaghetti noodles into their mouths. The kids kept begging us for water; that is one shortage that is easy to forget. We visited an orphanage and gave the lady in charge school supplies and toys for the kids (that you paid for, thank you!!). She explained that over 125 children lived in the house, with 9 workers, including herself and her husband. She slept in a room with 3 infants under the age of 4 months. She said the earthquake caused such an influx of children who were displaced, not knowing whether their parents were dead or alive, and separated enough that they may never know. How can she turn them away? The boy we found on the side of the road was taken there.

Now, I hope these accounts don’t come across as another sob story about Haiti. I understand that NONE of us have the capacity to be consciously aware of every major crisis or human rights issue on the planet at all times. However, we were all involved in this trip to Haiti: you through your contributions and I through my physical presence. And together we can at the very least remember Haiti… remember that even conservative estimations have a rebuilding of this nation between 4 & 6 years away… remember that just because there are millions of hungry and thirsty children doesn’t mean that we can forget these hungry and thirsty children.

This trip reminded me from a personal standpoint of something: it’s easy, living here in Pennsylvania and working 40 hours a week, to come to think of missions as “exotic travels.” I tell people about my life and they coo enviously, “oh, you’ve been all over the world!” To which I have to reply, yes, I’ve been many beautiful places… I’ve also lived in a tent and slept on concrete floors… I’ve seen trash dumps, slums, projects, hovels, huts, shacks all over the world… I’ve gone to the least and the poorest and sought to brighten a corner of their lives through food and water and Christ.

I hope that you, friend, see this partnership of ours as something more than travel, philanthropy, or even awareness, as meaningful as all of those things can be. I went to Haiti because the people of Haiti, right now, cannot help themselves. Right now, they have the least. And Jesus, empathizing thoroughly with these very people, said, “For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and yougave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me,⁾ I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me” (Matthew 25:35 & 36). I think that he approvingly reminds you and me both that “…as you did it to one of the least of these, you did it to me.”

I may be going back to Haiti in December with a larger team. I’ll keep you posted.

LOVE and GOD’s BLESSINGS to you all! Thank you for your friendship and support.

Running off the Edge of a Cliff

2010-06-05T21:08:00.000-04:00

I feel these days like saying, well, thanks art, we've had a good couple thousand years... humankind will now commence your destruction.

Call me a fatalist, but what in contemporary culture speaks otherwise? It's like a religious apocalypse: a small, cloistered contingency may remain but the general public has gouged its eyes and stopped its ears to truth... irrevocably?

It hit me tonight as I walked through Borders and, once again, realized that I long ago exhausted the "classics" sections. I've actually begun to worry that there are no "classics" left. Christopher said, "well, you just have to read new books... the ones that will become classics." To which I replied, "there are none." The scary thing is, I really think there may not be.

BECAUSE of the following:

The goal of artistic expression in the form of literature, film, even music has become financial. As such, like some kind of modern amphitheater that shreds dignity and appeals to only the basest human impulses, these media have become vehicles for *shock value.* Instead of spending years shaping metaphors and gleaning insights, the writers and directors of our day are amalgamating the most shocking, perverse, graphic components they can....
-Graphic sexuality is now absolutely common in literature
-An R-rating for a romantic comedy is now completely acceptable... things like rape, foul language, overt references to genitalia, explicit sexual depictions, masturbation, cutting off human appendages, copious and explicit bloodshed, murder (point-blank shooting, etc.) are mainstream. They aren't becoming mainstream, they ARE mainstream.

Now, I don't speak as a prude... my caveat is this: shock-value for the sake of shock-value can only last so long before these things become no longer shocking. It's like running top-speed towards the edge of a cliff... I'm sure the unknown and the wind in your hair would be a rush but at the end of this short-lived trip you actually fall off the edge of the cliff. The rush runs out. Then what?

I do think there is an end-point to this kind of presentation: I'm not sure it will become mainstream to depict sex with animals or child pornography.... so, when nothing is shocking anymore, what substance is left?
There are only so many kinds of acceptable human perversion. There are only so many simple story-lines... only so many times I want to see a poorly-done pygmalion or a re-make of Romeo and Juliet. Who is writing something new?

Writers and filmmakers can toy with various human perversions to appeal to an uneducated audience... but pre-chewed food for thought has little nutritious value.... this "art" does not feed the multitudes, it only leaves them empty and hungry for more. This multiplies stupidity and ignorance... and ultimately creates an audience that will be easily entertained but never grow.

True art
             and it surely still exists in corners
             or chained and behind unfunded bars
                       of man's foolish inattention
Will shrivel and die
without the
            PRODUCERS
            and CONSUMERS
It requires

"Any 12 year old can pick up a camera and put something on You Tube and it's just garbage; Any 25 year old can pick up a camera and put something on You Tube and it's just slightly-better garbage. Nobody learns the skill anymore." -Chris Youell

"This is the opposite of art, this destroys art, this destroys souls... this is so much more offensive to me than hardcore pornography." Oscar from The Office

Distraction and Misinformation

2010-03-23T06:51:00.000-04:00

In our American world of alleged sophistication and "1st-world-ness", I find it immensely frustrating that we are so willing to judge the unknown. For all our claims of tolerance and you're-ok-I'm-ok postmodernism, I sense a much more real dynamic of intolerance, judgment, and even hatred towards people who disagree. There is perhaps no better time to see people's true colors than in a time of political transition. I feel a mixture of amusement and annoyance with facebook right now, as people who probably have no genuine political convictions feel free to vent their opinion on health care... people I know well enough to know that they have probably not researched this bill, being scared off at the first mention of "big government" and ambiguous, sinister references to socialism. The same people who didn't vote. Or who voted without truly believing that they were voting for a cause or for change. To everyone who voted for the "cool black guy" rather than a politician who made no apologies and cast no illusions that he was going to initiate change: shame on you.

I think that a healthy discussion among people who disagree is beneficial. I do not, however, think that anyone is benefitting, growing, or becoming better educated from biting comments about how we hate our president. I voted for him knowing full well that he was going to make changes... and, frankly, he hasn't made many. I understand that I am certainly on the good end of health care reform... one of those who will benefit from it and there are those who will not. I also understand that the increase of government's involvement in things like healthcare is a change that could be a catalyst towards a mild form of socialism many many years down the road if it continues unchecked (unlikely)... but I understand these things because I've researched them. I'm okay with these things not because I'm 1. blindly committed to any partisan agenda or 2.think Obama is infallible... in any political scenario you have to pick your poison. Whatever my commitment or yours, as I know I differ with many of my friends on this issue, have some respect. If people are as angry as they sound, and hate the President that much, they can certainly relocate out of country for two years and maybe better luck next time. This hatred gets us nowhere.

Partie Deux: The Legitimacy of Youths

2010-02-18T08:18:00.002-05:00

Disclaimer 1. I only use the word "generation" because the comparable replacements feel inadequate. I do not endorse the rampant overuse of this word as anything other than an age-bracket.
Dislcaimer 2. I do not think that a lack of respect on the part of elders for youths is without its counterpart (a lack of respect on the part of youths for elders). We are both deserving of some disdain. I simply think that here in Western PA, there is a cultural preference based on age (as though older = better).

Not youth, but youths.
Of course I preface this by saying that if anyone can see the flaws in mine and surrounding cultures/peer groups, it's me. My carefully honed critical nature has certainly given me plenty of ammo to "rip my generation a new one," if you will. However, I feel like my friends and I need to defend ourselves for a moment to those older people who would either consider us a lost cause or dismiss us as inadequate to the tasks of adulthood. Neither of these condemnations are true.

Let's consider: never has a generation been privy to both the amount and accessibility of information as ours. Do you want to know the definition of the word auspicious? Dictionary.com I can find it in... about 3 seconds. I could research obscure diseases, donate money to a charity, buy groceries & home supplies (alice.com, love it) in probably 10 min. total.

We not only have access but we also have the technological know-how to instantly familiarize ourselves with this vast body of knowledge. We've come a long way from the days of DOS and there is no arguing with the immeasurably superior ability of people my age to interact with technology from our parents' generation: they have to constantly learn and work to know new technology whereas for most of us it is not only second-nature, it's our hobby.

Education has never been more common: statistically, we have vastly more college graduates in my generation already than my parents ever had. Now, whether or not this education is as academically challenging or not, it is certainly more beneficial to go to college than simply to graduate from highschool and enter the work force.

We have much more life experience at a much younger age than our parents and grandparents. Let me explain, international travel is not only easier, it is more sought-after. I have traveled more at 24 than at least 75% of Americans in their 40's and 50's (and that's a very generous estimate). While I may not have the maturity to glean the same insights into humanity as the result of these travels as an older person, I also have a more open mind to accept cultural differences without imposing western morals or ideals.

We have traveled more places, met more people/kinds of people, communicated in more languages, done more internships, had more creative employment, eaten more kinds of food, and simply seen more than our predecessors.

All of that said, of course I realize that the majority of my peers are irresponsible, spoiled, and have no work ethic. However, I think it needs to be said that those of us who get it, who really have a handle on life, are better equipped, better educated, and have more resources than any previous generation. I'm sure the same will be said of the next.
I need to say this because I look at people in authority, people who structure church & state, people who try to explain to me what life is like, and I feel unsure of the superiority of their vantage point. While I know there is no replacement of years, I chafe at the idea that years alone qualify someone as wise. I think true maturity comes from seeing the world as it is: I understand that war is difficult, I too have seen people shot; I understand that finances are challenging, I have lived in 3rd world poverty; I understand that life requires thought and self-improvement, I have extensively studied theology and philosophy... yes, my peers and I have a lifetime of growing up to do... but that does not illegitimize the fact that we have a voice that should be heard.
I'm not normally this cheesy (although I almost always go on these little tirades) - but the future belongs to us, let's make the pass-off as smooth as possible.

"As is the generation of leaves, so is that of humanity.

The wind scatters the leaves on the ground, but the live timber
Burgeons with leaves again in the season of spring returning.
So one generation of men will grow while another dies."
Homer, Iliad

Change (Not As In Loose)

2010-02-18T07:11:00.000-05:00

Lately, in many of my life contexts, the topic of discussion has been change: the dynamic nature of life, relationships, and individuals.
Some people, it has been posited, are pre-disposed to acclimate to change or even invite change with relative ease. Others, perhaps worriers or more type-a people, resist and even fear change.
But here's the rub: change is inevitable... not an option... even for the unwilling worrywart, change happens. Life cycles on in its brutal karmaic tradition and our propensity to handle change well either leaves us growing and dynamic or bitter. I do think that a lot of bitterness stems from life "changing without our permission." We don't want our friends and family to move away or die. We don't want to learn new jobs and skills. We don't want to lose money, homes, security. We resent teenagers for defying our treasured traditions.....

But the times they are a'changing... and we either adapt and engage or withdraw and become irrelevant, lost in memories of "better days," stubbornly unaware that THIS is the time of the harvest, the day of salvation.

"The function off the historian is neither to love the past nor to emancipate himself from the past, but to master and understand it as the key to the understanding of the present." ~ E. H. Carr

Sticky Jam Hands

2009-12-08T07:00:00.002-05:00

Faith always jokes about how, for no apparent reason, kids who have eaten no jam whatsoever always have sticky hands. Sticky, sweaty, dirty...

Real life kids are messy messy. They are real: moody, disobedient, angry, frustrated. Certain emotions, I think, are just the result of developing. I always say, "it's hard to be so little" because I'm sure it is! I got a wisdom tooth a couple of weeks ago and let me tell you, teething is sooo painful! Imagine not being able to use words yet to explain what you want or need. Kids are always stretching towards independence (Nolan always wears his clothes backwards, because he wants to put them on himself, but is enraged by the tag tickling his neck) and drawing back towards the safety of immaturity (Mason is the big brother but gets jealous when I hold Addy).

Kids are contradictory and frustrating and frustrated... and, in my opinion, in this day and age, in DESPERATE need of parenting.

(With 10+ years of childcare experience...) Here's what I see:

1a. Inconsistency. In one instance, a child is reprimanded immediately for yelling and nagging ("can I have juice? can I have juice? can I have juice?") BUT when the parent is distracted, like, talking to the nanny, the child can get away with asking 25 times and then being given juice to "shut him up" so we can continue our adult conversation. This is not fair to the kid. He doesn't know what to expect! How can you possibly expect a 4 year old to reason through the probability here: he wants juice in the worst way so if 25% of the time asking 25 times works, he'll continue that behavior. Only when asking 25 times works 0% of the time will this behavior stop.

So... stop what you are doing whatever it is and wherever you are and parent your child. That five minutes will make all of the difference.

1b. Consistency further extends to punishment: the reactionary parent. A kicking and screaming child, first thing in after morning snuggles when she is fresh and new and wonderful may be tolerated with angelic patience. Fast forward to 9:30 at night after an hour of bedtime charades and disobediences, the kid is yelled at and thrown into her dark room to "obey me, RIGHT NOW!" Again, this is not fair to the kid. In one situation, her behavior was tolerated and in another it was punished. When a parent punishes in a reactionary way, based on his or her mood, the child's boundaries become inconsistent parameters for behavior... and are negligible at best. Boundaries have to be consistent or a child is constantly off-balance, which creates nervousness and fear and uncertainty: how do you think that child will act?

So... don't throw your kid off-balance by inconsistent reactions! Set the boundaries and stick to them. Take a deep breath and realize that a little self-control now will lead to a lot more household peace later.

2. You are not your child's best friend. At best, you are your toddler's sometime-playmate. But to envision every interaction you have with your child being free of negativity is delusional. Kids make bad choices: they choose to hit and not share and talk back and a parent is the figure God put in that child's life to help them know what a good choice is and learn how to make it. If the first thought in a parent's mind regarding "why I had kids" is "to have fun" then I can guarantee that parent is creating a monster.

So... a little bit of unpleasant discipline goes a long way.

3. Get over the guilt. Compensatory parenting seems to be so common: "I had so little, I want my kids to have the world" or "I shouldn't have gotten angry at you, sure you can have a cookie." Most parents want their children to have a great life and most parents get too angry sometimes. BUT you can definitely give your children too much AND you do not have to explain your parenting mistakes or techniques to your child. Imperfect parenting (which is 100% of parenting) can still produce wonderful, successful people.

So... the best way to poise your children for a good life is to make them good people. This requires a lot of discipline and instruction, which you won't always get right but you cannot cannot cannot give up on!

(This next one may be my most important point...)

4. If your child has a "bad day" everyday, he or she is probably a bad kid. I don't know how difficult it is to process this as a parent but this reality check is absolutely necessary if any turn-around can happen. Once in a while, your child doesn't feel well or is sleepy and acts based on that mood... but to empower your child to constantly excuse his or her bad behavior is handing that kid a trump card for every naughty act. I watch a four year old who tells me, "go away, I have a headache" and proceeds to try to rip his two year old brother's hair out with his teeth, while choking him. This is a bad kid not a bad day and the sooner his mom realizes it the better... because a 14 year old who is this violent and takes no responsibility for his actions will be a nightmare.

So... stop supplying your kid a script for irresponsibility and see the patterns - if he acts like a bad kid, well, he probably is. He doesn't have to be.

Maybe this all sounds pretentious and presumptuous... I am not a parent... but I have seen these patterns over & over in such a variety of homes that I imagine they are norms. In part I am venting because if I said these things to the person I want to say them to... I would lose one of my jobs. ;) (not you, Tami, you're great). ;)

Vietnamese Pork Meatballs

2009-11-21T09:47:00.008-05:00

Vietnamese Pork Meatballs

I got the original idea for this from a Vietnamese cookbook but I changed it completely, so I feel ok taking credit. ;)

This can probably feed about 4 people. Yum!

Ingredients for meatballs:

1 lb. ground pork

1 tsp. salt

1 tsp. pepper

1 tsp MSG

1 T finely ground lemongrass

2 garlic cloves, minced

About 1 inch of ginger, finely ground

2-3 mint leaves, chopped teeny tiny

1 T lime juice

Combine ingredients & form meatballs - I sized mine pretty large, see below

Oil in frying pan, cook evenly until brown -

When they're done, put them into a bowl with paper towel & pat lightly to remove grease

I served these with rice noodles and spicy peanut dipping sauce.

Side Salad -

Salad dressing ingredients:

1/2-1 cup oil (I just used vegetable oil - anything light would work but I would steer clear from Olive or Sesame)

1 handful of mint leaves

1 handful of Kaffir lime leaves

Juice from one lime

1 tsp. salt

1 tsp. pepper

1 T lemongrass, finely ground

Blend in food processor

Salad:

I used endive & romaine (neither of which are Vietnamese, obviously, but we needed some leafy greens that day) - chopped tomatoes, cucumber, and white onion. I think a more traditional Vietnamese side would be iceberg or cabbage with carrots & cucumber. :)

This is really not hard to make and SOOO flavorful!

Happy Halloween!

2009-11-02T06:40:00.015-05:00

Our little Halloween party - fun!
(These are out of order because I struggle with computers)
HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

Wii!Annnd halfway through the night he just looks like a drag queen.

"You can learn a lot of things from the flowers... but especially in the month of June"

The White Rabbit

The Bartholics

Danielle & Kyle as old ladies

No time to say hello - goodbye! I'm late I'm late I'm late.

The Baileys

Andy as himself

Shell as Alexandria from The Fall - best costume EVER!

Ian as a Ukranian... I'm not quite sure... from a movie? He looked cool and serenaded us on his accordian :)

Way-pregnant Anna as a roll of Lifesavers ;)

Shell!

Winter (but unfortunately not of my discontent)

2009-09-17T12:29:00.002-04:00

Today a new chill is in the air - as if the gracious autumnal transition has bypassed us. It's not the shocking degree but the static slanting light that foreshadows the cold to come.
I don't feel this way about the weather alone; my life itself has a forecast which I refuse to call bleak but cannot call exciting. The prospect of living this version of life for years to come is unbearable. It makes me still - deeply still, which for me is the utmost manifestation of a violent resignation. I hate to resign myself to life as it is but know that I have no choice. I am doing what I must do and living how I must live based on my own choices.
It is a radical and immediately transformative revelation that the perpetuity of life's events happen in a cause & effect (decision & consequence) manner... inescapably.

I am living a straight line.
There are no curves and
No surprises...
No upcoming turns
Or tweaks to the plan.
I act correctly because I no longer retain the adolescent luxury of rebellion - this system is my god and I cannot escape its unbending rule.
This is a closed system of finite possibilities.
and I have no wonder anymore.
I feel like an ancient idiot who marvels at insipid, blithe youth with both envy and resentment.
What is left to enjoy?
The orange is sucked dry.

The hard part with this, as with any dismal season of life, is that I cannot grin and bear it and jump to a time when it will be otherwise... I am daily being formed by this... this work and repetition and boredom and cold. I want its filthy hands off of me - but that too is not a choice I have.

To quote Tobias, "And so I will toil on through this waking life."

Vacation!

2009-07-06T14:40:00.018-04:00

Grilling out

Me and Nathan

Badmitton? (spelling?) We played volleyball too and... pretty much dominated.

Going to church

Dad and the girls

Height order

Age order - yes, everyone knows I'm the shortest... let's move on.

The sibs

Mom and the girls

My old bike... took a super short ride (it is like a sauna out here)

Fun times!!! Now back to work :( and Chris :)

Harrison Hills Park trails

2009-06-19T11:21:00.011-04:00

the only chair I've ever seen that dwarfs my husband ;)

Opera in the park

2009-06-19T10:29:00.015-04:00

Abortion Paper

2009-03-23T16:37:00.001-04:00

This is the first draft (completely unedited) of my ethics paper on abortion. I'm actually kind of interested to see if anyone cares to read it... I know it's not a popular opinion but I'm pretty passionate about it.

Ethics Essay Assignment: Abortion
Introduction
Few ethical issues in modernity incite the kind of enthusiastic support or rebuttal as abortion. To many, it is a hinge-pin issue that largely defines one’s political and religious affiliations. Unfortunately, in evangelical circles, it has often been a bandwagon that is thoughtlessly joined and created catastrophic results for the Christian witness in society. The grotesque and cruel displays and commentaries offered by many Christians - both leaders and laymen - have generated hostility and are more akin to a mob mentality that is anything but helpful. This issue deserves more thoughtful scrutiny, prayerful consideration, and social sensitivity.
Thesis
A pure, unbiased ethic that is based on Scripture necessitates the conclusion that abortion is a personal, subjective issue that should not be regulated or prohibited by either church or state. I will prove this in a number of ways: first, by distinguishing philosophical and theological ethical approaches as they generate guidelines for right and wrong thinking and decision-making; second, by glancing at the historical background of this practice in culture; third, through scriptural evidence regarding Christian liberty as well as scripture’s silence for a specific guideline or command regulating this practice; fourth, by a practical assessment of the motivations that drive radical anti-abortion groups and whether or not their arguments are legitimate; fifth, through cultural evidence that support of this practice is the preferable alternative. Abortion is an issue necessarily attached to many others: women’s reproductive self-determination, freewill, a definition of life, sexuality, rights, law, and many others. I will address these only as they are relevant in support of my thesis.
Approaches to ethics
While evangelical Christian theology has evolved into a helpful and informative discipline, its proponents have often blurred the line between it and other academic disciplines. Because theology deals with the most important issues in human life, it is often mistakenly set up as an authority for all subjects, as though from theology one can discover all truth on all topics. This is incorrect because scripture itself – the primary source of evangelical theology - does not claim to be a universal authority in subjects such as science or world history. While scripture generally prescribes right human behavior, the structure and terminology for ethical discussions lie in the field of philosophy.
Philosophy is a much broader field which certainly generates theological discussions but is not limited to the topic of God. Classically, historical persons such as Plato, Aristotle, and Socrates forged a new way of considering and communicating the many dynamics of both physical and spiritual realities. Their initial statements spawned philosophical considerations in wide variety, not the least of which was the study of ethics. Arguably, ethics was one of the first and most popularly debated facets of philosophy. The Greeks engaged in moral philosophy, the main ethical category being virtue or right living. The sophists continued the traditions of philosophical thought and began to resemble professional teachers, not the least of their topics being virtue and ethics.
The basis of philosophical practice is dialogue. Most early philosophical writing was a transcript of a debate or discussion between two or more persons. This dynamism and exchange seems to be the most biblical method for establishing corporate and personal ethics. The Christian approaches ethics as a structure to be assimilated through biblically correct thinking into right living. This is done in the context of community. It would stand to reason, then, that the entire community – rather than just an isolated body of expert theologians – is involved in establishing the boundaries of Christian ethics. As such, a philosophical approach to ethics is the one that ought to be pursued by Christian communities. While scripture is the primary source informing this ethic, it is not the only source nor are areas outside of direct biblical command to be disregarded; rather, these areas of biblical silence are to be prayerfully considered by the community of ethical Christians.
Historicity of Abortion
From a basic knowledge of history, we know that fertility and childbearing have been feared, revered, worshiped, prized, used for political gain or manipulation, and necessary for the perpetuation of the species. Playing such an important role in the development of the species, it is easy to understand why humans (and especially women) early on realized their need for self-determination in reproduction. The first reference to induced abortion comes from an Egyptian papyrus.[1] The practice of abortion dates as early as the 5th century. There is record that the Stoics, considering the fetus to be plant-like and not an animal until it breathed air, performed even late-term abortions.[2] Chinese folklore claims that the Emperor Shennong prescribed the use of mercury for abortions.[3] The Hippocratic Oath forbids vaginal suppositories (because they caused ulcers) and does not [4]prohibit abortion. Many crude methods were used to induce abortion, most of which were dangerous and even life-threatening for the woman. These included strenuous labor, fasting, heat or excessive pressure to the abdomen (“massage abortion”), insertion of sharp objects into the body, and various herbs. It is clear that the motivation that precipitates the decision to abort is not modern, nor is the act of abortion itself.
As mankind evolved in their thinking and began to consider the metaphysical components to humanity, the morality of controlling reproduction became relevant. As the church played the dominant role in education, it is natural that the church leaders became the primary voices of ethics and morality in society. The ancient church debated abortion on the grounds of the timing of ensoulment, or when a fetus received its soul. Augustine, for example, opposed abortion after the fetus had received a soul: 40 days for males and 90 days for females.[5] Other esteemed theologians of this and previous ages, including Tertullian and Origen, also opposed abortion on the basis of ensoulment. Unfortunately, these theologians also considered women, menstruation, and even the act of giving birth to be inherently evil. Tertullian even referred to women as the “gateway of the devil.”[6] While ensoulment or the timing of a fetus’s life and rights still remain central in the discussion of abortion, the obvious differences in the understanding of women both in the church and society require a cautious approach to these opinions of antiquity.
That being said, the larger body of church leaders have digressed very little from this opinion of the morality of abortion. The important distinction is that because of their understanding of women, the writers of antiquity aforementioned are not a good source for this discussion. The basis from which church leaders discuss the issue of abortion in the current era has shifted, and rightly so.
Fast forwarding to this century in this country, our most relevant vantage point, abortion has never ceased to be practiced regularly. In the late 19th century, abortion began to be increasingly criminalized, driving its practice underground. Into the early 20th century, abortion was a dangerous practice. For every 150,000 abortions performed annually in the US in the early 1990’s, one in six resulted in the woman’s death.[7] In 1973, Roe v. Wade thankfully put abortion back into the public sphere where women could choose this procedure in safe and hygienic environments.
Scripture’s Input and Silence
There are important qualifications to preface this discussion of scripture’s stance on abortion: the God of scripture is both loving and just and does not appear to prize individual human life the same way that modern society does (example: Joshua 7 and the punishment of Achan and his family); “an argument from silence” is not conclusive but it is a starting point for knowing whether an issue is morally mandated or neutral (example: there are no scripture verses on dating and yet Christians have formulated theories and methods for dating biblically); there is a hierarchy of virtues in scripture and where apparent inconsistencies exist, theologians are never shy to allow one precept to override another (example: Paul’s grace versus James’ faith). The most important qualification is that scripture neither encourages nor prohibits abortion.
Remote references to abortion in scripture are scant at best. One that is often referenced is Numbers 5:12-28. The scenario is an unfaithful wife who may become impregnated with another man’s child. The woman is brought by her husband before the priest, who pours on her “the water of bitterness.” This is meant to reveal whether or not the woman has become pregnant. If she has, the result will be that her “abdomen will swell and… thigh will waste away” (v. 22). The translation and apparent implication is that the child will not be born. This abortion would apparently be caused by the priest’s water and, ultimately, by God. There are some hermeneutical challenges with this interpretation but it may be an abortion reference in the Old Testament.
Scripture discusses birth, death, life, creation, pregnancy and pre-natal formation of the body; while abortion was apparently practiced in biblical times, scripture makes no statement concerning its ethicality for the church. This is perhaps the most convincing argument for the legality and practice of abortion. Every other sin and specific guideline for life was given to us in scripture, either ratified or reiterated by Jesus in the New Testament. We ought not add to nor subtract from the Word of God (Prov. 30:6; Rev. 22:18). Neither should we listen to those who provide stricter prohibitions for life than scripture itself (Col. 2:21).
All of that said, it must be remembered that God loves people and has created each one in his image. No Christian who aborts a fetus or allows that women deserve that right thinks otherwise. Scripture, while being pro-choice, does not encourage murder and that distinction is one that anti-abortion radicals don’t recognize – God prohibits murder (Hosea 13:16; Num. 31). Those anti-abortionists who destroy love and even life (through criminal acts against abortion doctors, etc.) are themselves the ones unraveling the reputation of godly persons seeking to build the kingdom.
The Life Debate
Those who morally or politically oppose the legalization and practice of abortion have labeled themselves “pro-life.” They consider themselves to be the defenders of unborn babies. This argument is based on the idea that there is a moment when a fetus becomes human in the fullest sense, both with spiritual dimensions and political rights. Those who oppose abortion run a spectrum of opinions within this basic framework, debating amongst themselves when life begins. The most extreme view pinpoints life at conception, the moment when the only physical reality indicating a foreign object in the uterus is a sperm. Other views, such as the historical ones previously reviewed, define life at a certain gestational term – usually four months. After this, they claim, the fetus is sensitive and formed enough (which seems to simply mean that, to the ultrasonically enhanced eye, it looks like a baby). There is also a continuum amongst those who allow for abortion. Some only allow for it during the first trimester and some espouse the allowance of partial-birth abortion, when the birthing process is already underway.
My broad objection to this debate is its internal dissent as well as its obsession with the physical minutiae of the process of procreation. Most Christians and self-proclaimed pro-lifers would allow for the use of contraception in a variety of forms. At what point does the prevention of impregnation differ from the termination of impregnation? It seems arbitrary at best.
Life, according to scriptural definition, is the pneuma, the spirit, or the breath. The first human is described as coming to life in Genesis 2:7: “Then the LORD God formed man of dust from the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living being.”[8] Admittedly, Adam was uniquely formed, apart from sexual union, by God. The first man born from man and woman was Cain: “Now the man had relations with his wife Eve, and she conceived and gave birth to Cain, and she said, ‘I have gotten a manchild with the help of the LORD.[9]’” There is no definitive statement here regarding the breath of life. However, it would seem that the precedent has been set that to be human one must somehow be animated or set into living motion, in Adam’s case by God and subsequently through the breath of life upon birth. One of the oldest books in the Old Testament is Job. Job describes his status of being alive (as opposed to being dead), “as long as I have life within me, the breath of God in my nostrils….” Job was alive, in his self-description, because of the breath of God. A New Testament reference to this “breath” being something necessary to be truly alive is found in James 2:26, “For as the body apart from the spirit is dead, so also faith apart from works is dead.”[10] To live is to breathe; to die is to breathe your last breath.
Cultural Dynamics
Unfortunately, this debate has escalated beyond a pursuit of truth and become twisted into something manipulative and often cruel. While the motivation is unclear, those who deem themselves “pro-life” employ emotionally-charged verbiage, grotesque descriptions, and weepy personal testimonies to provide a social shame for anyone who would think otherwise. This is a very politically-toned argument from both sides. “Pro-life” movements have been riddled with arson, bombings, vandalism, harassment, torture, threats, and even murder. This is not an exaggeration. In her book, Targets of Hatred, Patricia Baird-Windle highlights many of these acts. It is truly horrific to consider the atrocities that have been suffered by reproductive health-care professionals at the hands of those who claim to be evangelicals or pro-life.
Public Health – medical and social considerations
The medical risks of abortion are few. Abortion can either be done surgically or with a pill (RU-486 FDA approved in 2000) with the same amount of risk for either procedure.[11] There are occasions when a woman or fetus cannot both survive the gestational period. When a fetus will not survive, it is the only humane choice to abort. If a choice has to be made where either the woman or the fetus will survive the process, obviously the woman has rights as a human to make that decision.
There are some psychological elements to this procedure that must be addressed. Many of the psychological stressors originate from radical anti-abortion groups and their virile language regarding abortion. It causes women unnecessary guilt for making what is often a wise life-decision. This must be fought. To prey on the emotions of women in a fragile state of decision-making is truly sinister. To combat this, all abortion clinics and gynecologists, etc., who perform abortions provide counseling both before and after the procedure. As stewards of the earth and our bodies, God has given us means and reason to make good decisions and sometimes abortion is the decision of good stewardship.
The positive effect of the pro-choice movement
The aforementioned counseling offered by clinics which offer abortions is only a fraction of the influence that these clinics have in their respective communities across the world. One of the best-known organizations that promote sexual health is Planned Parenthood, which has been active in the US for 90 years. Other than just abortions, most Planned Parenthood locations offer sexual health counseling on STD’s, birth control, emergency contraception, health care reform, sexual education, HIV & AIDS support, family planning, and pregnancy. Socially, they have been one of the first and only refuges for women in crisis pregnancy who want to pragmatically consider all of their options.
What many evangelicals forget, in their quest for church structures and male headship, is that the feminist movement was widely beneficial to American society. Without it, women would have few rights at all and would be severely limited. Jesus himself extended a great deal of acceptance and dignity to women, as did his followers. It would be remiss to not acknowledge the good that the feminists have contributed to our society and churches. Women should always feel empowered to make responsible decisions regarding our sexual health.
Summary
Theologically, philosophically, ethically, socially, and biblically the legitimacy of abortion as a woman’s rightful choice for her own reproduction is inescapable. Both historically and in modernity this has been an issue both in the church and society. With our current access to historical documentation, theological reflection, and scientific studies, we can be certain that we are without error when we allow that abortion is a legitimate option for women. There is no biblical mandate that is being usurped and so we cannot say that this option renders any woman guilty. Before the throne of grace women are allowed this self-determining, reproductive freedom.
Conclusion
A pure, unbiased ethic that is based on Scripture necessitates the conclusion that abortion is a personal, subjective issue that should not be regulated or prohibited by either church or state. The key passage that comes to mind regarding every opposition to this conclusion is Matthew 7:15 and 16, “Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves. You will recognize them by their fruits.” The self-righteous, judgmental, violent tendencies of anti-abortionists speak volumes concerning their hearts. Every woman has not only the right but the responsibility to be a steward of her body and reproductive health. And with respect to my body and my God-given freedom, I will not allow a field of white crosses to make me feel differently.
[1] “Gynecology and Obstetrics” Potts and Campbell
[2] Oxford Classical Dictionary
[3] “Abortion” in Scientific American
[4] John Riddle
[5] Augustine, “The Case of Abortive Contraceptives” in Philip Schaff
[6] Tertullian, “De Cultu Feminarum” section 1.1, part 2, trans. C.W. Marx
[7]Streitmatter, “Voices of Revolution”
[8] NAS
[9] Genesis 4:1
[10] ESV
[11] Robert W. Rebar, MD

Happy Valentine's Day!

2009-02-16T14:42:00.005-05:00

Our precious little celebration.

My unbelievable gift!

Soy cansada

2009-02-16T14:32:00.001-05:00

I’m tired of being cynical. It takes so much energy to hate this place, to pick out (however legitimately) the wildly unethical or inappropriate goings-on of Southern. I’m tired of taking it personally… people’s issues and sins. I’m tired of the hubris that drives me to see the sexism here directed at me rather than a general sin driven by issues like fear and insecurity. I’m tired of feeling bored or annoyed by my classes. I feel like I’ve fought for years now for truth and a pure pursuit of truth, attempting to convince others and even myself that the nature of Christianity is constant flux (growth, change and revelation). The reality is, I have no one’s ear. I just long to be passive: I long to be an impartial, unemotional observer.

I obviously have very strong objections to both the style and content of Christianity here at the seminary.

So, for hopefully the last time for a long time, I will complain… and then I will shut up.

What I’m sick of externally (outside myself)

-The tired things I keep hearing: marriage as a metaphor; dispensationalism – the word, the concept, etc; complimentarianism – “; unreasoned/oversimplified absolutism; insensitive or disparaging jokes about charismatics or catholics; irrational loyalty to Israelis; the unnecessary and random insertion of Greek words into everyday conversation; the long and unpronounceable names of German or Dutch theologians; southern accents; the “us v. them” of “lost v. saved”; villainizing fallen Christian; hierarchical structure: the popularity (hero-worship) of Dr. Moeller; racist comments (both overt and covert); abortion as the primary ethical dilemma in our culture (it’s not); the assumption that “we’re all on the same page” (we all know what assuming does)

-The tired questions I keep asking: if you have taught the same class for years, why would you ever stumble over your words/not know what to say or how to illustrate a point?; is extreme complimentarianism just about job security for men?; how can we live in this culture and know nothing about it?; where are all of these awesome churches with tight-knit communities that people go to? (as an aside, I love my church); how can you honestly think that any overweight man in a suit doing or saying anything at all is “cutting edge ministry”?; What happened to self-awareness?;

-The things I hate to keep seeing: men in suits; “poor” seminary students with iPhones; men who are proud (prideful) of their knowledge; men who argue to win.

There is a guy next to me in class trading stock, another on facebook… is this the training ground for ministry? Will we be launched from here into prosperous, meaningful ministry, well-equipped for the trials of lifelong mission?

My tone clearly uncovers my personal opinion. But I genuinely do wonder if people really buy-in to this place or if we merely stop our ears, shut out eyes and get through it. Is this a necessary evil to these people? Or is it just a place to show off our shared knowledge? Or is it a remaining safe place – a place to study in a vacuum, escape from the difficult things like relationships and hurting people?

The truth is – and I do know this – I will not be happy with this place. I will never find a place like this to be happy with. This is no longer my world or my desire. This is a means to an end. And so I will probably be here for another 3 years. And I have to stop hating it and just deal.

My one remaining question is: will I leave this place unscathed?

Chris and I have decided so steal the “Jesus fishes” off of everyone’s car, melt them down and make a statue of Dr. Moeller. Not that the seminary needs more sacred cows.
I’m done. I will zip my lips and extract every bit of God I can find from this place, treasure Him in my heart, and remember Africa.

A JOYful Youell CHRIStmas!

2009-01-02T15:59:00.022-05:00

Happy Youell C-mas!

Game night!

I can't believe that Dad picked the scent that I've been wanting!

My box from the fam! :_)

Thanks "Nathan"! My new Vera Wang purse!!!

Christmas pic

5:15 am - Santa came!

Some of Chris's presents from his stocking

Some of the loot - my Marilyn Monroe movies and my Guess bag

Our yummy, traditional Christmas dinner.

Our first turkey together

My beautiful Christmas flowers.

My new necklace from Dad!

Thanks for all of the lovely presents!

Thanksgiving Pics

2008-12-15T10:46:00.009-05:00

Some pics of our Thanksgiving celebration with the MacPhales and Youells in West Virginia. Fun times!

Joy and Chris with Granny

The younger Youells

With Jeff and Rita

Joy and Chris outside by the fire with Papaw

Mamaw

Papaw - the self-proclaimed lord of the manor

Recipes.6 Crab Chowder

2008-12-14T22:11:00.003-05:00

This is to die for and much less fattening than traditional chowder (although it still should be eaten in moderation)

Crab Chowder

3 cloves of garlic
1 med. size yellow onion
1 tsp. chives
1 tsp. capers
2 tsp. salt
2 tsp. black pepper
1 T. of white vinegar
1 can of chicken broth

2 strips of bacon
2 cups of crab meat (or imitation crab meat)
1/4 cup of buttermilk
2 cups of half and half

Putting it together:
Start out with the first set of ingredients in a med-heat pot, until the onions are soft (the key to this step is the vinegar, to make it briny and the chicken broth, to cut the fat).

Once this is compiled, i usually put in my cornbread.

(Cornbread: 1 beaten egg, 1/4 cup butter or crisco, 1 & 3/4 cup buttermilk, 2 cups of cornmeal in greased breadpan on 450 for 25 min.)

Then, fry up minced bacon... roughly chop crabmeat, slowly add dairy to the soup mixture.

The most important key to the cooking process: do not scald the milk... heat at low-med. heat for 30-40 min. until heated through.

Serve up with cornbread.

It must work because I got a great date night out of it!

Making Cookies! + Recipes.5

2008-11-30T10:24:00.011-05:00

COOKIES!

After a wonderful day of errands and time together, we put Horton Hears a Who! and then Speed Racer on and did some serious cookie-making. :)

All of the cookies were made after mixing the initial dough =

Basic cookie dough:

2 1/2 cups self-rising white flour

1 tsp baking powder

1 tsp baking soda

1 tsp salt

(mix dry ingredients)

3/4 cup white sugar

3/4 cup brown sugar

2 eggs

1 1/2 sticks of butter

1/2 cup Crisco

1 tsp. vanilla

1/4 cup Condensed milk

(I know, it's not healthy... but it's Christmas!) :)

The two super-basic recipes (the sugar cookies for decorating) are regular and chocolate. The regular just gets a tsp. of cinnamon and nutmeg with the dry ingredients. The chocolate gets 1/2 cup of cocoa in the wet ingredients. Yum. We cut the regular as Christmas trees and the chocolate as stars and decorated them!

(I made my own icing out of confectioner's sugar, melted butter, and food coloring)

#2: Peppermint Cookies

Basic sugar cookie recipe but with 2 1/2 tsp. of Peppermint extract in the wet ingredients and 2 cups of crushed Starlite mints (the red and white, round hard candies) in the dry ingredients. The melt beautifully and become a gooey, peppermint cookie. Sooooooo delish

#3: Reese's Pieces PB Cookies

Basic recipe gets 1 cup of peanut butter in the wet ingredients and 2 1/2 cups of Reese's pieces in the dry! Chris can't have chocolate so these are a good M&M cookie or even chocolate chip cookie alternative.

Recipes.4

2008-11-20T16:42:00.002-05:00

A little za. It's Chris's favorite food in the world so I try to give him a treat every so often. ;)

Spicy Thai Pizza

The absolute best sauce in the world is: Kikkoman's Thai Style Chili Sauce. You may not have to go to an Asian grocer to get it... it's in our Asian section of the regular grocery store. They key is not skimping out on the dough prep. As long as you're in and out of the house enough to keep an eye on your rising, it shouldn't be too big a deal.

1st: dough. Here's my tip for dough: if you're gonna make it, make a lot. You can fridge it or freeze it or make breadsticks... it's so affordable and you may not always be in the mood to make it, so have it ready.

5 cups of flour
2 packets of quick yeast
2 teaspoons of salt
2 T of oil
2 cups of warm water

Melt the salt and yeast in the warm water for a couple of min.s
Knead it all up.
Let it to go through 2 rising cycles (35-45 min. each)
Knead it out and pull it.

2nd step: Sauce and cheese

Mince 4 garlic cloves and put them in oil, whisking with salt and pepper (you can use egg-white also, it's just more fattening)
1 cup of ricotta cheese
2 cups of mozerella cheese
Thai chili sauce

3rd step: Assemble and bake

Brush the whole round with the oil/garlic mix
Spread the ricotta with a spatula
Spread the chili sauce evenly
Top it with the mozerella, evenly

Cook on 400 for about 20 min.

Yum! Plums would probably be a good accompaniment.

Recipes.3

2008-11-20T16:18:00.003-05:00

I'm behind! I've made a few good dishes in the last little bit. This one was for when we had Kendall and Luke over! Fun times! :)

Fried Chinese Dumplings and Asian-Style Stuffing

Those are the two main components to this dish, so I'll detail them one at a time. Both recipes are a little bit labor-intensive but can be done over the course of a couple of days. - you can freeze the dough, refrigerate the filling, puree the beets, etc. in advance. Simplifies it.

Fried Chinese Dumplings

1st: the dough - just a basic flat-bread dough.

2 1/2 cups of white flour
1 stick of cold butter
1/2 cup of cold water
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. cloves

You probably already know how to do this... just roll it out and punch out rounds with a cup - about 3". Now you can refrigerate this for a while. Just bring it back to room temp before you fry them up.

2nd: the filling - chicken-based

2 chicken breasts
2 cups chk stock
1 small white onion
2 stalks of celery
2 small potatoes
1 stalk of leek
3 cloves garlic, minced
About an inch of ginger, broken off, skin and minced
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. white pepper

Chop everything into similar sizes (so it cooks at the same rate)
Combine everything in a pot and boil softly until everything is tender. Put everything into a food processer and blend it until it's a rough puree. You can also refrigerate this for as long as you need to.

3rd: Assemble.

Take the round circle, scoop a small spoonful of filling into the center, fold over until the edges match. With a fork, mash the dough closed so you have a pretty half-moon with ripples on the edges.
You can also refrigerate and save these.

4th: Fry it up!

Heat about a quart of oil until it jumps when you toss a drop of water into it.
With a wire-netted spoon, lower the dumplings down and fry through. When they're light-brown, put them onto a paper towel to cool. When the rounds are done and your dumplings are cooked, they can be kept warm in an oven for quite a while.

Asian Style Stuffing

Buy a package of regular stuffing (the kind where you just add water and boom, you're set)
1 can of beets
1 frozen package of broccoli, thawed
1/2 can of coconut milk
1/2 cup of brown sugar
2 T of maple syrup
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. black pepper
1/2 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. clove
1/2 tsp. nutmeg

1st step: prepare the stuffing normally. Steam the beets, roughly chopped, and broccoli in 1 cup of water with the brown sugar and seasonings. After the veggis are cooked through, blend them up in a food processer.

2nd: in a glass casserole dish, empty a first layer of stuffing with a spatula. Then, spread the pureed veggies on top. Finish with the coconut milk and syrup and put it into a 350 degree oven for 30 minutes.
This stuffing becomes a beautiful purple color and is super flavorful.

Last but not least: have dinner!

To plate: put 4 dumplings on a plate and spoon a T of Thai chili sauce on top; spoon the stuffing on the side.

I served this with a bowl of easy soup: chicken broth, green onions (the whole thing), garlic, salt and pepper.

Recipes.2

2008-11-10T12:36:00.002-05:00

Shepherd's Pie and Soup for Dinner

We had this the other night and it is one of the cheapest meals! It's pretty easy to make and I add a good twist to it (ricotta cheese). The soup is NOT labor intensive so don't be scared about the blending portion - it literally only takes a second.
Also, I make these kinds of meals (the pie) in glass casserole dishes and save them for the week to heat up as leftovers. It's cheaper per portion to make more at one go.

Enjoy!

(For dinner at 7)

Shepherd's Pie

1 lb. ground beef (don't sub. turkey - it changes the whole flavor)
6 brown potatoes
1 clove of garlic
8 oz. ricotta cheese
2 egg whites
3 T butter or margarine
1 t each of oregano, basil, and thyme (or an Italian Mix)
1 t each of salt and white pepper (you don't want the black flecks)

5:00pm - fill a pot with water, roughly chop your potatoes, leaving the skins on, and drop them in. Keep at a low boil until they're soft.
5:30 - drain the potatoes and immediately mash in a bowl, with butter, salt, pepper, minced garlic, egg whites, and ricotta cheese. Set aside (the more they cool the firmer they'll be when you assemble the dish for baking)
5:45 - brown the ground beef in a frying pan (with a little oil) and season halfway through with the oregano, basil, and thyme (don't add this too early or it will burn).
6:00 - assemble the pie: spread an even layer of beef and top it with an even layer of the potatoes. Put it in the oven at 425 for about 45 min.

Onion and Leek Soup

4 cloves of garlic
6 stalks of leek
1 big yellow onion (the white ones are too spicy)
16 oz. chicken stock
1 t. each of salt and white pepper

This is the most flavorful soup ever! And there aren't a ton of ingredients. In case you don't know, leeks are in the onion family... they look like celery with white stalks and dark green leaves up top.

6:00 - after you put the pie in, start the soup. Put the chicken stock on medium heat. Chop the stalks of the leek, putting the tops aside (you can use them for another dish - but be careful because they're bitter). Chop the onion. Chop the garlic. Dump it all in the pot and let it boil until everything is soft.
6:30 - All of the ingredients should have cooked through. Next, dump the whole mixture into a blender and blend it through until it's a puree. Put it back into the pot and let it simmer until it's time to serve.

(If you want to, you can ladle a spoonful of the soup onto the top of the pie in the oven - it will crust nicely)

7:00 - Eat! When we had this meal, I served it with broccoli and bread for the soup.

Recipes.1

2008-11-09T19:27:00.002-05:00

I've wanted to post recipes for a while. I don't follow recipes but I do make them up and it may be my husband's graciousness, but I think that they are at least edible. Cooking is something very personable and every woman - however feminist - should at least have a few dishes under her belt... so...

If you want to eat dinner by 7pm, follow these simple instructions:

Salmon for Dinner

1 lb. of fresh salmon
4 T of olive oil
1 & 1/2 T minced fresh garlic
1 T minced fresh ginger
1 t sot sauce
2 t salt
1 t fresh ground pepper
2 baked potatos
1 package french cut frozen green beans

1st step:
5:30pm: put potatoes, wrapped in foil and perforated by forks, in 350 degree oven.

2nd step:
6:15pm: heat frying pan searing hot (high) with olive oil
-Add minced T of garlic and ginger for approx. 2 min.'s
6:17pm: Add salmon for 5 min.; flip halfway through and re-season other side
6:22pm: Put salmon in pan with oil and dash with soy sauce - put in oven at 350 degrees

3rd step:
6:30pm: heat 1/2 T of garlic in 1 cup of water - once warm add small package of french-cut green beans; heat till warm through

4th step:
7:00pm: remove baked potatoes and season with pat of butter and salt; plate green beans with dash of salt; add 1/d lb. salmon, baked through, to plate with skin (instruct your husband to not eat the skin part).

;)

Halloween

2008-11-01T13:30:00.008-04:00

(Chris and I were tweedledee and tweedledum)

We had our first party in our new home! :) Happy Halloween!

Fall!

2008-10-06T17:22:00.010-04:00

A nice fall day at the park with my honey. :) Fall is here!

S.H.E.

2008-09-28T22:01:00.004-04:00

Buy ‘SHE’ jewelry this Christmas!

SHE is a Christian non-profit-Foundation dedicated to helping Thai women and girls escape the sex industry in Thailand through our jewelry making programme.

Visit our online store at www.shethailand.org for an easy Christmas shopping experience that will change a life. All the money from the sale of the jewelry in our on-line store goes straight back into the programme.

Not only will you receive quality jewelry made from shell, pearls, swarovski crystal and semi precious stones but also……
Free!
Hand made satin jewelry bag.
Hand made saa paper gift card Inc’ ministry details.

Gift delivery and wrapping service.
Hand written personal message service

We hope you enjoy our jewelry as much as our girls enjoyed making it!

SHE is part of the New Life Foundation in Phuket, Thailand.
This is an awesome ministry that I worked with in Thailand! These girls are often underage, forced from their homes (either by kidnapping or their own families) into prostitution in Thailand. People from all over the world hire their services while they vacation with their families and friends on the beautiful islands of Thailand. Mark & Sharon Biddell are the couple who have begun S.H.E. as a money-making alternative, bringing the girls out of the bars through friendship, sharing Christ with them, and offering them healing and new lives. Any way that they can be supported would be awesome! What great gifts for Christmas... order some gorgeous, handmade Thai jewelry and support this awesome cause.

Here's me helping Gae make jewelry! (don't worry, I didn't make any that you will buy) ;)

Here's a blog post from my ministry time there in Phuket:

Aug 12, 2007

Where's the designated driver, here?
Friday night at the Joy Bar-(that's it's name). Halfway along the strip, the brazen girls yell at the passers by and join the frivolities...drinks, games, bright lights... so much fun!

A thick girl with pouty lips grasps our hands and hugs and kisses us for coming back to see her. I pull her aside and she cries in my shoulder.

A slight girl with a black and white dress finishes off the bottle of whiskey. We laugh raucously as a replacement bottle is brought. She dances at the pole and knocks another shot back. Then she collapses in my arms and says, "I have to drink so much because I am so sad on the inside but I have to be happy on the outside." I pass her a tissue and she goes and sits on his lap.

The one with the angular facial features pulls out a game and tells me about her son, pausing only to make eye contact with the old Aussie man at the other bar. The short, fat one comes by and kisses her breast.

Oh, this is such a fun, sexy place... no rules... just fun!But then the slight girl is back to throw up in the sink. She pulls my head close: "why doesn't he want to sleep with me?" Her out of place tears keep falling.

He has been a woman since s/he was little... I can barely have a good conversation because she keeps catching her reflection in the mirror. We laugh as she compares our chest sizes. She thinks I'm fat and that's funny too. It's all funny. Then she whips around, grabs my face in her two large hands and asks earnestly, "am I pretty?"

She's too sick to go on. I chase her unsteady,weaving steps down the road. "Will you be okay? Let me get you a motorbike. No, don't drive. Be safe. You are beautiful. You are special."

So, are we having fun yet?

Come on.

Labor Day

2008-09-01T21:32:00.012-04:00

Downtown Louisville & a picnic by the Ohio river :)

Happy

2008-08-30T20:03:00.003-04:00

So I've been married for almost 3 months. I'm sure that's not long enough to make any sweeping generalizations or pass on the seasoned wisdom of experience... but I do have some observations.

I was telling Chris that I wish people heard more about good marriages. When we became engaged, the doomsday talk began. I can't count on both hands the number of people who shared their personal experiences and summarized marriage thusly: "it is so hard... be prepared... it's the hardest thing you will ever do." Not to mention the comedic material that features dysfunctional marriages: immature men and insecure, overbearing women.

Now, as a caveat let me say that I do think that this is a separate issue from discussions of (a) gender roles, (b) gender identity, (c) roles in marriage, or (d) portrayals of gender in the media.

There is something acutely distinct about the function of a marriage from a personal, experiential standpoint.

And let me say this: marriage is NOT the hardest thing that we've ever done; marriage is fun and enjoyable; marriage is not any harder or more complicated than "normal" godliness. The characteristics that denote godliness are the same that it takes to be married.

In my marriage, we do not fight... ever. I always wondered: what do married people fight about? If you're a considerate roommate, a good communicator, and a selfless person, marriage is a joy.

LIFE is hard... marriage doesn't compound the stress but provides you with a partner to help you grow and learn and love better.

We stay awake late at night laughing and making jokes... we divide the chores... we go to the gym and out to dinner... we watch TV and do normal life stuff... along with the unconditional love and acceptance as well as the promise of someone always being there.

I don't understand petty squabbles about food or fun or housekeeping.

I do the laundry, he does the dishes. I work a long day and come home to a candle-lit house and him waiting with ice cream. He scratches my back and I rub his. We talk and worry about money... but blame for bad decisions is shared and good ones are enjoyed. We laugh. We talk seriously about life and God. We humbly accept the fact that we both have flaws and are willing to be seen and confronted in those flaws by each other.

We comparmentalize: this is a roommate moment, this is a friend moment, I need a ___ right now, will you be that to me? And being married means adjusting my mood for the moment to accomodate him and be what he needs.

We deeply respect each other. I would never yell at someone in my family - so why would I yell at him? Who you are in life, it would seem, is who you will be as a spouse.

And I will say this: it is hard to be a happily married person.

Nobody wants to hear about people who are married and love it. Nobody wants to hear that it's easy and pleasant and fun. Nobody. Why?

I love and am loved by my Bucky.

Bucky's Birthday

2008-08-02T15:01:00.018-04:00

Barnacles restaurant - we went out and got seafood after a visit to the FL Aquarium in TPA!

Two nights before we had a party at the McCarty house in North Port... then we had a nice Youell party with just us two anda tiny cake (and sparkling grape juice) and dinner out at Tina Tapas in Channelside.

Happy 26th, honey!

4th of July

2008-07-06T13:54:00.009-04:00

Fun out on the boat with the family and the Elgersma's. I'm really lucky to have a husband that can take such cool pictures.

Married....married... marriedmarriedmarried!

2008-07-04T11:09:00.016-04:00

It was an unimaginably wonderful day and I am so very happy.

Honeymoon

2008-06-14T16:08:00.014-04:00

Don't worry. No dirty pictures. ;)

Just us in our new place.

I'm married. Whoa. I definitely have those moments... but it all fits together... I love life with my hubby (who steals covers, by the way, and sometimes snores.)

First picture installment of the wedding

2008-06-14T16:05:00.005-04:00

(Chris clarified my title... it's not pictures of my first wedding but the first pictures of my only wedding...)

I wanted to name this post, "let the great experiment begin!!!" Only Jimmy will get that, though. Annnndddd I'm so very happy.

As soon as Tim gets them to us (ahem ahem) there're lots more.... with better lighting and all of the jazzy stuff. ;)

Bachelorette party!!!

2008-06-14T16:02:00.005-04:00

Thanks for Jennifer and Mary! Although I have to admit a night without Chris wasn't as fun as maybe it could've been... I missed him. I don't know if that makes me lame or just married-ish. ;)

Birthday 23

2008-04-13T11:20:00.013-04:00

It's been a while since I've blogged. I'm not particularly uninspired, just somehow not as loquacious as usual. My lack thereof has provoked some thought, but not much. For the most part, I excuse my incommunicato with my busyness - teaching school and planning marriage stuff... although I perhaps it's just one of those characteristic "gaps" that I often experience. Sometimes I think that it's necessary to just pull back from sharing and be, intelectually and spiritually, alone. And it has been a good and necessary hiatus. I don't know if this is intrinsically selfish, but I experience it nonetheless.

It's nice being engaged. Planning life together isn't our favorite (neither of us "enjoy" logistics or job-hunting) but the prospect of it coming together is exhilerating. It's amazing how much peace I have with this, considering my former reticence to any kind of committment. I am so completely sure of Chris... of his character, of our "rightness" together. I really am thrilled to spend the rest of my life with him! And the surety I have now of always having someone by whom to define my life is... nice.

My lovely, strong mother got pneumonia. I was so shocked! She was getting progressively weaker and more genuinely pitiful.. eventually I scheduled her a doctor appointment and the verdict was: pneumonia in her lungs. Upon hearing this news, I immediately grabbed the camera and shot this picture, in case she died... I wantef to remember what she looked like in those final moments. I mean, seriously, pneumonia. Yikes.
(I am - hopefully obviously - being very tongue-in-cheek... she is recovering nicely.)

It was a wonderful Birthday! The night before, Friday night, we had a family celebration (most of these pictures are from that). The next day, Chris took me to the Sarasota Film Festival and we watched movies & ate junk food literally *all day*! We saw some wonderful short films, a Norwegian romantic comedy, a documentary on Harry Potter, and a new movie called Phoebe in Wonderland (absolutely fantastic). Today we woke up and got to work - but I have to say that I am so refreshed and happy after my wonderful day.

Engaged!

2008-03-16T09:13:00.004-04:00

Crazy monkeys. Who would have ever thought??? A lot of people are "shocked." That's somewhat entertaining. I obviously don't mind shocking people.

I always wondered if I would ever fall in love like this - in a way that made 12 hours of time together insufficient... in a way that makes me constantly aware of where he is and what he's doing... in a way that allows for the conflicts & disagreements to cause me to love him more when I wake up the next morning. I think this is of God. I know it is. I have no doubts, really.

It is surreal and euphoric. It is real and not easy. It is completely wonderful and exciting and very very good. :)

I'm getting married to Chris Youell.

Kayaking

2008-03-03T19:48:00.005-05:00

Lemon Bay, FL with my honey.

Less than recognizably artistic...

2008-02-17T21:08:00.002-05:00

These days I'm less confused about the definitions and explanations of what art (or the spiritually artistic component of my person) is and more disturbed by my lack of participation in anything that (historically) vaguely resembles inspiration. Chris has echoed this in his own life. I don't feel acutely uninspired. That I could probably endure because it would be a kind of "anti-art" sentiment... which is at least hateful rather than apathetic. I am not sure that I can endure the intellectual and artistic lethargy that seem to have beset me. Why? Why am I here, like this? It's unbearable, one, to be in yet another "phase of transition" in which nothing is set for very long and certainly nothing is certain long-term. Second, my job (teaching 3rd grade) is legitimately so emotionally exhausting that I feel useless for any new developments; my whole day revolves around any new idea, any shocking display that I can use to jolt my kids into moments of decent behavior. Does that sound extreme? It's how I feel.

I don't mean to be dismal. I don't feel throbbing pulses of rain or streaming rays of sunshine... just a constant drizzle and a spark of expectation... because that is next will surely be good... but "now" is lasting longer than I anticipated... and I haven't added enough recognizably artistic or stimulating components into this life.

And this life is, for now, what is.

The life

2007-12-12T20:25:00.000-05:00

The life I'm leaving or the life I'm keeping?

It can't be all that bad.

To heal

2007-11-29T15:54:00.000-05:00

"Somewhere we know that without silence words lose their meaning, that without listening speaking no longer heals, that without distance closeness cannot cure”

Henri Nouwen

Happy Thanksgiving 2007

2007-11-22T22:42:00.000-05:00

Grateful. (that I don't have to use 1,000 words...)

(a year later)

The McCarty Clan

My sister and bros

The sibs "Take 2 Deja Vu"

Handsome McCarty Boys

Forced love - my schmakinwacker

My schnu

My mother
The post-turkey daze...

I'm so grateful.

tumble

2007-11-04T19:40:00.000-05:00

The most apt word I can employ to describe my life of late is, "tumble."

I feel like I'm playing a game of musical chairs... perhaps as a 6 year old. There is that terrified feeling, the hyper-tuned senses, the feigned ambivalence, the conscious cheating, the relief of losing... I'm not unhappy I'm simply tense. I am slowly beginning to unravel (in a good way).

One of my 3rd graders wrote this, and I wanted it to be true of me:

(we were doing a poetry-writing exercise in which they had to use the same two adjectives at the start of each stanza)

Ayla wrote,

"I Am Crazy and Funny"

I am crazy and funny

I like to climb trees

I can flip in the air in my bouncy house

I can swing a real vine

I almost killed myself by jumping off a tree.

I am crazy and funny

I love gymnastics

I will jump off a cliff

I can jump off my house and fly

I will fly off my bouncy house

I am crazy and funny

I will do a double jump in the air possibly

I will walk up a tree

I can head bash a tree and knock myself in the head

Okay, I don't want *all* of it to be true of me.... But being crazy and funny would be nice. For now, I'm just tumbled.

Home

2007-10-03T19:35:00.000-04:00

I dressed up for the first time... happy tears.

I have 0 regrets about leaving WR and am exhilerated beyond all reason to be home. My life is full of coffee and hugs and cute clothes and high heels and good smells.

Without seeming duplicitous I do want to insert an aside here: I feel it confirmed more than ever that I don't *need* these amenities of life... the hot water or cold ice or available bathrooms or hair dryers... these are luxuries but I really don't feel they add any significant fulfillment to my life. The relief of being home really is confined to the company of my family. I'm happy to discover this about myself.

Thanks for everyone's love and support!!!

p.s. I am currently watching Muppets From Space and drinking a Diet Coke after my long bath.

Searching and Settling

2007-09-30T21:28:00.000-04:00

"Round Here" by Counting Crows:

Step out the front door like a ghost into the fog
where no one notices the contrast of white on white
In between the moon and you angels get a better view
of the crumbling difference between wrong and right
I walk in the air, between the rain, through myself and back again
Where... I don't know
Well Maria says she's dying, through the door I hear her crying, 'why?'
I don't know.

Round here
We always stand up straight
Round here
Something radiates

...

She's more than just a little, you know, misunderstood
She has trouble acting normal when she's nervous

Round here
We're carving out our names
Round here
We all look the same
Round here we talk just like lions
But we sacrifice like lambs
Round here
She's slipping through my hands

Sleeping children better run like the wind
Out of the lightning dream
Mama's little baby better get herself in
Out of the lightning

She says, 'it's only in my head'
She says, 'sshh, I know, it's only in my head.'

There's a girl on the car in the parking lot
She says, 'man you should try to take a shot; can't you see my walls are crumbling?'
And she looks up at the building says she's thinking of jumping
She says she's tired of life; everyone's tired of something

Round here
She's always on my mind
Round here
I've got lots of time
Round here we're never sent to bed early
Nobody makes us wait
Round here we stay up very very very very late

I can't see nothing, nothing round here

Would you catch me if I'm falling?
Would you kiss me if I was leaving?
Would you hold me 'cause I'm lonely... without you...
I said I'm under the gun
Round here.

-------------------------------------------------------------
The journey of seeking truth has been a defining element of the past couple of years of my life. I've deconstructed and feebly began to hang hats of absolutes on my very exclusive hat stand. My pockets are full of propositions - little scraps of paper suggesting thoughts that I can easily peruse and discard, but they don't yet define me or possess me. Sometimes I really only want them there for comfort of jamming my hands deep down and coming up with ideas. I am a thinking person!
And that is the gypsy spirit in me that walks barefoot and naked: risking and running.

But it is not all of me.

The last two pages of "Franny and Zooey" by the J.D. Salinger
(there is profanity in this excerpt but I am not editing to maintain the integrity of the original)

"The voice on the other end came through again. 'I remember about the fifth time I ever went on "Wise Child." I subbed for Walt a few times when he was in a cast--remember when he was in that cast? Anyway, I started bitching one night before broadcast. Seymour'd told me to shine my shoes just as I was going out the door with Waker. I was furious. The studio audience were all morons, the announcer was a moron, the sponsors were morons, and I just damn well wasn't going to shine my shoes for them, I told Seymour. I said they couldn't see them anyway, where we sat. He said to shine them anyway. He said to shine them for the Fat Lady. I didn't know what the hell he was talking about, but he had a very Seymour look on his face, and so I did it. He never did tell me who the Fat Lady was, but I shined my shoes for the Fat Lady every time I ever went on the air again--all the years you and I were on the program together, if you remember. I don't think I missed more than just a couple of times. This terribly clear, clear picture of the Fat Lady formed in my mind. I had her sitting on this porch all day, swatting flies, with her radio going full-blast from morning till night. I figured the heat was terrible, and she probably had cancer, and--I don't know. Anyway, it seemed goddam clear why SEymour wanted me to shine my shoes when I went on the air. It made sense.'

"Franny was standing. She had taken her hand away from her face to hold the phone with two hands. 'He told me, too,' she said into the phone. 'He told me to be funny for the Fat Lady, once.' She released one hand from the phone and placed it, very briefly, on the crown of her head, then went back to holding the phone with both hands. 'I didn't ever picture her on a porch, but with very-you know-very thick legs, very veiny. I had her in an awful wicker chair. She had cancer, too, though, and she had the radio going full blast all day! Mine did, too!'
'Yes. Yes. Yes. All right. Let me tell you something now, buddy....Are you listening?'
Franny, extremely tense, nodded.

"'I don't care where an actor acts. It can be summer stock, it can be over the radio, it can be over television, it can be in a goddam Broadway theatre, complete with the most fashionable, most well-fed, most sunburned-looking audience you can imagine. But I'll tell you a terrible secret--Are you listening to me? There isn't anyone out there who isn't Seymour's Fat Lady. That includes your Professor Tupper, buddy. And all his goddam cousins by the dozens. There isn't anyone anywhere that isn't Seymour's Fat Lady. Don't you know that? Don't you know that goddam secret yet? And don't you know--listen to me, now--don't you know who that Fat Lady really is?...Ah, buddy. Ah, buddy. It's Christ Himself. Christ Himself, buddy.'

"For joy, apparently, it was all Franny could do to hold the phone, even with both hands. For a fullish minute or so, there were no other words, no further speech. Then: 'I can't talk anymore buddy.' The sound of a phone being replaced in its catch followed.

"Franny took in her breath slightly but continued to hold the phone to her ear. A dial tone, of course, followed the formal break in the connection. She appeared to find it extraordinarily beautiful to listen to, rather as if it were the best possible substitute for the primordial silence itself. but she seemed to know, too, when to stop listening to it, as if all of what little or much wisdom there is in the world were suddenly hers. When she replaced the phone, she seemed to know just what to do next, too. She cleared away the smoking things, then drew back the cotton bedspread from the bed she had been sitting on, took off her slippers, and got into the bed. For some minutes, before she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, she just lay quiet, smiling at the ceiling."

---------------------------------------------------------------

I "settle" on very little in life but my call as a mission and my heart for ministry ("my call and gifts" so to speak) are irrevocable. I am entranced by filmy and whimsical metaphors of the Fat Lady, The Island, a Prince, Chesterton's Sunday, but what's more, I am found in the Person of Christ. I am His. I am not many things in my life, but I can be surer of no alternate reality or truth than I am of that:

I am His.

Everywhere I've gone this year, every man, woman and child, has staged a unique presentation of who God is... and I feel like I'm watching for the first time each time. Organically, I laugh and smile and applaud.

"In the rustling grass, I hear him pass/
He speaks to me everywhere."

And so the top spins, but never above the floor.

I'm home.

Pol Pot - Khmer Rouge

2007-09-18T21:08:00.000-04:00

Ko Samet x2

2007-09-18T21:03:00.003-04:00

Gorgeous.

I'm beginning to hope this is an "hasta luego" kind of goodbye

2007-08-24T00:55:00.000-04:00

I have, to date, not become so emotionally attached to a place and people as I have here Patong, Thailand. Tonight is our last night of outreach and then tomorrow night we fly back to Bangkok. I just... don't know.

S.H.E.

2007-08-19T22:56:00.000-04:00

Congratulations, Aunt Patty!

2007-08-13T00:02:00.000-04:00

After all of the hurt and harm inflicted on this gracious and lovely woman, she has found her Hankey. No, really, that's his name. I'm so happy for you guys!!! May your conflict be small and your love full of joy - I pray God's favor on your new marriage!

I can tell the family had fun!!!

Where's the designated driver, here?

2007-08-12T00:46:00.000-04:00

Friday night at the Joy Bar-(that's it's name). Halfway along the strip, the brazen girls yell at the passers by and join the frivolities...drinks, games, bright lights... so much fun!

A thick girl with pouty lips grasps our hands and hugs and kisses us for coming back to see her. I pull her aside and she cries in my shoulder.

A slight girl with a black and white dress finishes off the bottle of whiskey. We laugh raucously as a replacement bottle is brought. She dances at the pole and knocks another shot back. Then she collapses in my arms and says, "I have to drink so much because I am so sad on the inside but I have to be happy on the outside." I pass her a tissue and she goes and sits on his lap.

The one with the angular facial features pulls out a game and tells me about her son, pausing only to make eye contact with the old Aussie man at the other bar. The short, fat one comes by and kisses her breast. Oh, this is such a fun, sexy place... no rules... just fun!

But then the slight girl is back to throw up in the sink. She pulls my head close: "why doesn't he want to sleep with me?" Her out of place tears keep falling.

He has been a woman since s/he was little... I can barely have a good conversation because she keeps catching her reflection in the mirror. We laugh as she compares our chest sizes. She thinks I'm fat and that's funny too. It's all funny. Then she whips around, grabs my face in her two large hands and asks earnestly, "am I pretty?"

She's too sick to go on. I chase her unsteady,weaving steps down the road. "Will you be okay? Let me get you a motorbike. No, don't drive. Be safe. You are beautiful. You are special."

So, are we having fun yet?

Come on.

Girls

2007-08-10T04:32:00.001-04:00

I'm working in Patong, Phuket (Thailand) - a southern vacation destination. There're tons of tourists and foreigners lolling around, beautiful beaches, and bright & colorful strips of bars.
S.H.E. (Self Help Empowerment) is a micro-enterprise organization started by Mark and Sharon Biddell from England. They work primarily with bar girls or prostitutes by providing them with friendship, mentoring, Biblical education, and a job (jewelry-making).
I just like the girls. The ministry is my element and I actually feel useful and excited... it's such fun meeting new girls and guys in the industry and thinking of God's lovely heart for broken people.
The indomitable nature of the feminine spirit is truly awe-inspiring. God did a wonderful thing when he created the amazing paradox of woman - no wonder Adam was so smitten. I wonder if there's anything a woman can't heal from... or hurt from. But God is such an ever-present help to women. And our instinctive humility and gentleness WILL out in the end to turn our hearts to the cross.
We work with 4 girls who have left the bars for good and now work full-time at S.H.E. - Glong, Gae, Gung and Wan. They are so much fun - it's a joy.
More pics to come (this place really isn't "suffering for Jesus" unless you count the oppressive heat & humidity - it's so gorgeous here).
Love you all.

I Chose This

2007-08-10T04:13:00.000-04:00

I know I talk about her a rather lot... but here she is... kayaking... without me.
I chose this.
I talked to them on the phone... they're so happy and having such fun... mixed with the angst-ridden drama that is so rife in my family...
But I did choose this.
Then I read Leah's e-mails... and wrote her back... pages and pages... everyday this week, I think... I'm missing so much. Lizzy grows.
But this is what I decided to do.
I feel a little foolish and little displaced... more than a little confused and quite frustrated....
Because I chose this.
And I daily wonder what "this" is...
This... journey... discovery... challenge... "race"... mission...
All somewhat empty words.
And then somehow I find peace in knowing this:
I may not be completely happy here but I did choose this for one overarching reason: for God.
I feel like I've made a lot of decisions in my life "for God" that just didn't pan out somehow - that were dissatisfying or disastrous... but if motives count for anything, God knows mine are good.
So my time won't just be salvaged, it will be satisfying... right?
Because I chose God above family and friends...
And as much as I love them, he must always be first.

Bangkok pics

"You worship the sun/Now can you fall for the rain?"

("London Skies" by Jamie Cullem)

Unsure, sleepless, and inane

2007-07-26T01:37:00.000-04:00

Manila, Philippines -

-Predominantly catholic

-Currency is the peso

-Crammed with people!

-More Filipinos live and work outside the Philippines than any other ethnic group - if they came back, not only would there not be room but the economy would collapse

-Slum ministry seems to be the biggest need

-Has the biggest mall in Asia ;)

Personal thoughts-

It's hard to know what to call things these days. I sit in a soot-streaked, strangely proportioned and wildly expensive hotel in Manila with Jimmy. We have to walk by piles of refuse and cart ladies to catch a cab to the mall. I hate this socioeconomic gap in cultures. It's so foul and demeaning to people.

(note: I'm not going to say I haven't thought of socialism a lot lately).

I have so many impressions- so much novelty. It's hard to put my finger on what I feel when I see all of these things. I want to aptly describe my experience; there aren't enough adjectives within my grasp.

But these are the ones I came up with.

I'd Call It You

If it were a taste

I'd call it lingering

If it were a book

I'd call it suspenseful

If it were a beat

I'd call it syncopated

If it were a position

I'd call it precarious

A hesitant word

A high-risk investment

An outdated map

A questionable expiration

A classic look

A strange choice

An acquired taste

A biting satire

If it were a shoe

I'd call it a 1/2 size too small

A B-flat

Sepia toned

Metaphor

I'd call it you.

Cambodia and Thailand with Jimmy

2007-07-26T01:35:00.000-04:00

Temple in Cambodia

Spiky fruit!

Beach on the island of Koh Samet - crazy fish & fire dancers!

So this month has been fab... traveling with Jimmy is fun! I get free Coke Lite, he carries my bags all of the time and, in general, I am just taken care of

Asia has been nice so far. I looove Cambodia and hope hope hope we land on my team going there for Sept.

Ok, I'm too emotionally tired to write more so here are pics.

YWAM base at Katchanaburi

Bridge over the River Kwae!

Empathy

2007-07-09T00:18:00.001-04:00

Hey... we're in Asia. It's super fun and everyone thinks Jimmy and I are married (defying all laws of compatibility, not to mention legality). I am really loving the Lord these days.

Current reflections:

First, before I start some quasi-metaphysical musings on the idea of empathy, ten Riel (that's the currency here) to the first person who can tell me the source of the following quote:

"come see what it's like to walk a mile in Oscar's shoes, or try on Phyllis's pants."

Ok, empathy.
There is some limit to human compassion, no? The grand unifying element of every human is our underlying (and however hidden, it must exist) creation Imago Dei. At some intrinsic level exists a commonality that cannot be undone or questioned... thus it would seem that every inclination of prejudice and chosen alienation is simply wilfull, never necessary.
So this is reality, but practice (as always) is not so clearly defined or easily put. (This is probably - someone will point out - part of my life long task to unite orthopraxis).
Reality says that the differences between humans are irreconcileable. From our opinions to physiology to religion, we seem to thrive on constructing new categories in which to place people. In some senses, this allows understanding that would otherwise be too complicated... but in some senses it is obviously destructive.

The fabric of society, as it were, is not a seamless unit - it is comprised of the many and varied elements which only together create wholeness.

So we delve into these ideas of unity and agreement and "one mind" and reconciliation ad infinitum (ad nauseum). But that is all ivy-tower and too abstract.

Today, here in this place, me personally... I sit here and reflect on this because every single day on the mission field I am confronted with the opportunity to understand or not. I am given the chance to "feel along" with someone what they feel, or ignore the stress and trouble that presents.

Today we met with a lady who oversees a prison fellowship work here in Phnom Penh, Cambodia. She was describing the work she does here. She told a colorful anecdote about feeding prisoners ("Jesus loves you - eat the food!") and a no-less-colorful but not so bright story about a 14 year old girl caught up in human trafficking.

What should I feel?
What can I feel?
How can I be capable of true empathy?
How can I be united, on a practical scale, to the sufferings, not of humanity but of the one person before me?
Isn't THAT true love?
It's so easy to "love" nameless, faceless entities (the amorphous persecuted church or AIDS orphans)but it really requires nothing of me. It's easy to bring awareness, make slideshows, take pictures of pot-bellied kids and crippled mothers, to speak from a podium or pray with fervency for someone I'll never meet... it's easy to preach and have millions come... but who does that make me? Where does that leave me? No matter how numbers inflate, won't there always be "one" worth going after?? Isn't every "one" worth that?? I don't want a feeling of accomplishment in regards to ministry - as if I can "check that off my list."

I don't want to seem noble and tout worthy causes... I want to spend myself. I want to be willing to die in THAT way. To feel alongside... unnoticed, unappreciated perhaps by all but one.

Because one is all that really matters, isn't it?

"What do you think? If a man has a hundred sheep and one of them has gone astray, oes he not leave the ninety-nine on the mountains and go in search of the one that went astray? And fi he finds it, truly, I say to you, he rejoices over it more than over the nnety-nine that never went astray" (Mt. 18:12&13)

"Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ."

"Tell them, that, to ease them of their griefs,/ Their fear of hostile strokes, their aches, losses,/ Their pangs of love, with other incident throes/ That nature’s fragile vessel doth sustain/ In life’s uncertain voyage, I will some kindness do them."
-Shakespeare

Post-happy

2007-06-29T06:12:00.000-04:00

I miss everyone. Maybe everyone I've ever met. Anyways, I know I'm going a bit post-crazy, but I'm a bit stifled these days.

Irrationality and modern philosophy - my life, these days...

I'm reading Schaeffer's "He is There and He is Not Silent" (again).
I was expressing to Ginger the other day my personal dryness these days. I think so much of it is a result of living daily in a community with whom I am in acute philosophical and theological dissonance. These are modern liberals, post-modernists... and some of them even non-thinkers. And it is so very very hard for me!I think Schaeffer articulates well the basic problems I have with this version of thought (or non-thought):

"Much that is religious, and specifically the Western liberal theology, moves over into the field of irrationality and says, 'We have no answer for this, but let us take a step of faith against all reason and all reasonableness and say that God is good.' That is the position of all modern liberal theology, whether it is the old-line rational liberalism or whether it is the Barthian thinking. But this should be seen for what it is: a part of the answer of chaos and irrationality...."

This is part of the reason that I categorize so many of the sermons I'm hearing and testimonies of "God's power" as nonsense! It is not only unrational, it is probably irrational... anti-rational. And it infuriates and befuddles me. How can we content ourselves with such nonsensical, foolish explanations? There ARE answers!!! Is Christianity so philosophically inept that we cannot even articulate rational answers to the problems or phenomena of life? Absolutely not. I refuse to believe I'm living with such a dysfunctional, stupid system of belief. And Schaeffer speaks to this end, as well:

"Evangelicals often make a mistake today. Without knowing it, they slip over into a weak position. They often thank God in their prayers for the revelation we have of God in Christ. This is good as far as it goes, and it is wonderful that we do have a factual revelation of God in Christ. But I hear very little thanks from the lips of evangelicals today for the propositional revelation in verbalized form that we have in the scriptures. He must indeed not only be there, but he must have spoken. And he must have spoken in a way that is more than simply a quarry for emotional, upper-story experiences. We need propositional facts. We need to know who he is, and what his character is, because his character is the law of the universe. He has told us what his character is, and this becomes our moral law, our moral standard. It is not arbitrary, for it is fixed in God himself, in what has always been. It is the very opposite of what is relativistic. It is either this or morals are not morals, but simply sociological averages or arbitrary standards imposed by society or the state. It is one or the other."

I am almost desperately hungry for...

theological imperatives
unyielding standards
absolute truth claims...

Isn't Christianity supposed to supply this? Mine does. I will cling by my fingernails if I have to ... but I refuse to abandon this for emotional brainlesness.

Under da sea and on the road

2007-06-26T08:10:00.000-04:00

I've been waiting for these Mozamique pics. Andrew had an underwater camera! Hooray! So even though these aren't fabulous... their fabulousness lies in the fact that they are a record of my snorkeling experience off an island in Mozambique! It was windy, cloudy and stormy but then I could stick my head underwater and experience this fun, colorful world... it was an odd and striking contrast. We found a reef and I got to see some wonderful fish up there... nemos and dories... and this one teal and purple fish that stuck out its fins to greet me. So fun.

"The fish is my friend too. I have never seen or heard of such a fish. But I must kill him. I'm glad we do not have to kill the stars." -Hemingway in "The Old Man and the Sea"

Pt 2

It's a weird life, this.... nomadic, mostly uncomfortable, rustic, surprising, challenging... novel...

(to whom it may concern, this is by far my favorite picture of Chris Youell EVER. He's to the left of Ryan - the guy scowling in the blue shirt and glasses. This captures him - poor 6'3" Chris who is forced to travel for 20 hours with no leg space and not enough food. Grumpy gills.)

This is a really big bug we found at a missionary's house in Mozambique. Yikes.

This is the most thoughtful potty-attempt we've experienced thus far... while out in the bush in Mozambique, the people knew that we were accustomed to sitting down... so they rigged a seat-like operation over the standard hole. So precious.

Here's Katie putting on mascara in the bush. It's so cute how ecstatic and weirded out kids get. But, yaknow, every culture in the world has their beauty rituals and appreciates our attempts.

Here I am doing homeschool with Maggie and Rudo, the missionary kids in Villanculos! The girls did everything from sewing to compiling databases to sorting clothes for orphans to chainsawing trees to building a bathroom.

We are leading crazy lives.

Happy Birthday Brienna!

2007-06-21T05:51:00.000-04:00

My team left me yesterday! I am officially at crunch-time now for Jimmy and I to depart to Thailand. We're gonna head to Cambodia, maybe Myanmar, the Philippines and hang out around Thailand to set up the next leg of the journey for World Race. It is actually fun to do all of this networking and all of this "normal" type work. I would ask for you to pray, though, that doors and windows and whatever else we need is open for us, especially in Cambodia and Myanmar! It's lots of work but I think we're cut out for it. Keep us in your prayers!

I miss you, Mom.

Oh, and the point of this post (oops, crazy scatter brained), is Happy Birthday Brienna! My teamie Brienna had a Bday. She is my comic relief and fabulously opinionated "mama" on this trip this year. Our team would be tragically deprived without her! Love you!

p.s. Check out my new travbuddy map on the bottom of this page! It blacks out (or purples out, more specifically) all of the countries I've been to. 14% and counting!

Amanda

2007-06-16T17:54:00.000-04:00

My precious friend Amanda left WR as of about 3 weeks ago (has it been that long??). I miss her!! She is a beautiful, godly woman. She has a life full of ministry and fruitfulness ahead of her. She really is one of the friendliest, most open-hearted people I've met. Not to mention she is almost single-handedly (she plus Ninja) responsible for the funnest times on WR. And if that's not a ministry, I don't know what is.

404 4 ever.

My mommy

2007-06-16T17:49:00.000-04:00

I do not overspeak when I say that I am nearest of kin to one of the true followers of God. And I miss her so badly I can barely say that much. I think I e-mailed her six times today just to tell her that I've missed her. For the first time in my life I think that I may be a trifle homesick.

But my point is this, in all truth: I want to be the kind of person who purposefully aligns my life with true believers.. people whose theology and character are proven and sure. And, as I was telling my precious Chris Youell the other day, I am related to some such people, not the least of whom is my beautiful mother. She has a level of integrity and lives in such a place of passion for God and truth that I can't help but know that she has seen God. I want to know her secrets and live close to her pattern of life. I want to be her friend and be mentored by her.

I mean it, Mom. I know it's Father's Day and all, but this is my belated Mother's Day post (I'm running about 6 weeks behind on this blogging thing.) I love you so much. I miss you! See you in 5 months!

Swaziland

2007-06-16T16:10:00.000-04:00

We're doing debrief and team stuff here in Swazi. We are halfway through our trip! It's amazing to see how far we've come as a team and as individuals.

Before the next team of racers came for training, we had a full day of silence... it was a beautiful time of reflection for me.

Some of my musings:

-From 2/14/07: A prayer, "I don't need to be great. I need to be fully yours."

-I love that things like this are in scripture - "Oh that I had wings like a dove; I would fly away and be at rest" (Psalm 55:6).

-My distinction as a missionary is none other than the very presence of God: "....Is it not your going with us, so that we are distinct, I and your people, from every other people on the face of the earth" (Exodus 33:16b).

-In London my feeling of disquiet began. Sometimes this wandering lifestyle is so tiring! I wrote, "The 'winds change' in my life so much that I'm afraid to put up my sails."

-I was contemplating my time in Mozambique and asking God a lot of pointless "why?'s". I came across a fabulous quote in Chesterton's book The Man Who Was Thursday - "'I am not happy,' said the Professor with his head in his hands, 'because I do not understand. You let me stray a little too near hell."

-On a similar note, my favorite book of the Bible comes through again with profundities too precious to be commented on... I could do it no justice. It alone speaks volumes: "And you shall remember the whole way that the Lord your God hasled you these forty years in the wilderness, that he might humble you, testing you to know what was in your heart, whether you would keep his commandments or not. And he humbled you and let you hunger and fed you with manna, which you did not know, nor did your fathers know, that he might make you know that man does not live by bread alone, but man lives by every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord" (Deuteronomy 8:2 & 3).

Mozambique!

2007-05-23T08:04:00.005-04:00

Little known fact about me: I heart cooking over fires. AND I'm pretty darn good at it, if I do say so myself.

One of the best days of the WR... spent a few days at this orphanage (the tents) with about 25 orphans... we handed out clothes and cooked. It was full of freezing, sleepy nights and sick kids but I had so much joy... unspeakable.

fun day - island trip with Cobus!

M-bique really is gorgeous! The cyclone messed up a lot but rebuilding is well underway.

Jaco family and home

Jesus film - Tim by the lake

The infamous Mozambiquan tree

and maybe similarly infamous Mozambiquan pest(milipede)

Fire with the kids at Pambara... they sang every night the same song... "We are happy to be together/We are happy to be together/We are happy, happy we are happy, happy we are happy to be together."

Our time in Mozambique was redeemed with what can literally only be called the hand of God. In town (we hitchhiked in eventually) we met a missionary man named Jaco. He must have caught a word from God that we needed help. My team soon moved in with his family (camping in his yard by a lake) and helping his family.

At first, my attitude was less than fabulous (obviously?).

I heard this Fiona Apple song that explains how my bitterness clouded my view -

"Because the fact being that/Whatever's in front of me is coloring my view/So I can't see what I see in fact/I only see what I'm looking through." ("Window")

But slowly, seeing Jaco, Maria and their precious kids Maggie and Rudo, I remembered why I'm doing this. THIS is missions. We cleaned their house and cooked their meals and watched their kids. We showed the Jesus film in a nearby neighborhood and people came to the Lord. We had church in their home. It was beautiful... and redemptive... and a little shaming. Shaming because I am so quick to forget that God is a redeemer. I am so quick to blame him or complain to him and so slow to trust him to bring me help and life.

I feel deeply the warning of Hebrews 3:12-14, "Take care, brothers, lest there be in any of you an evil, unbelieving heart, leading you to fall away from the living God. But exhort one another every day, as long as it is called 'today', that none of you may be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin. For we share in Christ, if indeed we hold our original confidence firm to the end."

I pray for greater endurance and less foolish despair.

"Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted" (Heb. 12:3); "Have you not known? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the faint, and to him who has nomight he increases strength. Even youths shall faint and grow weary, and young men shall fall exhausted; but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint" (Isaiah 40:28-31).

Mozambique!

2007-05-23T08:04:00.004-04:00

*reader discretion advised.

No joke.

This is like the hard and heavy side of missions that most people prefer to not think about. Happy orphans, busy hands, burdened but joyful hearts... this is the stuff that testimonies are made of. Usually. But mine isn't.

Mine sounds more like this:

"[I] am afflicted in every way... perplexed... persecuted... struck down..."

We sat under a tree in Mozambique and I lost it, friends. Whatever shred of sanity or satisfaction I had been retaining, in light of such obvious neglect from leadership, such intense disregard for my well-being... something within me snapped. Maybe it was the cumulative cultural stresses or frustrations with this organization, but I was not okay.

I sat under a tree with abysmally dirty feet near my tent with Amanda. I was wearing old smelly clothes with my glasses and oily face eating cold beans out of a can with a camping spoon. And I asked myself with incredulity, "is this my life?" "Is this for real?"

I'm here to help people and here I sit in one of the most impoverished nations on MY continent, stranded, without a translator, running out of water... with a sprained ankle.. thinking, how is this missions? How is this fulfilling my desire to help people? I have NOTHING. I can do NOTHING. I can't even say, "hello" in this language and there is no one to teach me. What, for the love of God, am I supposed to do?

And I cried.

Then I wrote this...

Emerge Better

Back and forth between

Hot and cold, under

Good and bad, without

Growth or stagnation

Seeming to change.

Push and pull because

One way or another

I must emerge better.

Bright and dark between

Covered and exposed, under

Mystery and revelation, without

Knowledge or ignorance

Seeming to change

Study and sigh because

One way or another

I must emerge better.

Sway and stop between

Noise and silence, under

Melody and dissonance, without

Fluidity or clumsiness

Seeming to change

Practice and try because

One way or another

I must emerge better.

Rage and rest between

Chaos and silence, under

Stress and solitude, without

Confidence or insecurity

Seeming to change

Storm and hope because

One way or another

I must emerge better.

BUT WHY this way?

Why the constant change

And unending range

Of argument and advice,

Of wrong and right...

To take mine

To make nice

To play the game

Or stack the deck

To follow the rules

Or cause the wreck?

Ruin or reward?

What are you trying to

Bring?

If I know one

Thing

It's that you're not often what you

Seem.

Work and play between

Night and day, under

Freedom and duress, without

Naivete or wisdom

Seeming to change

Pretend and age because

One way or another

I must emerge better.

I simply must get better.

-And so, slowly but surely, though it is still hard, I am holding out for my scriptural end:

"...but not crushed... but not driven to despair... but not forsaken... but not destroyed."

(2 Cor. 4:8 & 9)

South Africa

2007-05-23T08:04:00.003-04:00

(pic by my teamie Tim W)

"But for me it is good to be near God..." (Psalm 73:28a)

We landed in Johannesburg and actually had a van picking us at the airport to take us to a *safe* place where we were staying for a week of debrief! It was truly shocking and amazing and I think all of us almost cried. My first step off the plane brought the recognition of being home. There are no adequate words. It is very very well with my soul.

"There is no life/

No life without its hunger/

Each restless heart/

Beats so imperfectly/

But when you come/

And I am filled with wonder/

Sometimes I think/

I glimpse eternity."

("You Raise Me Up")

BA, Argentina

2007-05-23T08:04:00.001-04:00

Tango

Our first team pic (welcome, Tim!) after consuming an unhealthy, gluttonous amount of Argentinian Beef at La Baca.

A lesson in "letting go." I had to leave my beloved pink duffle bag because (stupid) British Airways only allowed me one bag. I bought this bag after foolishly fleeing L'Abri with only a small backpack and hand-holding most of my clothes as I rushed to make my bus down the mountain on my way to Italy (I was even holding underwear, if I remember correctly... and yes, it was as chaotic as it sounds). So I get to Florence and find this wonderful, beautiful bag that I dragged across many a train station in Italy, Greece and even France. And now it is somewhere, hopefully given away to travel to exotic places with some other grateful owner. But ne'er shall I meet it again. Adieu beautiful pink bag.

Funny sign... yay Florida

The color district

(This actually happened before London. )

After dusty, busy Villa El Salvador in Peru for 5 weeks, Buenos Aires, Argentina was a welcome time of peace and team-building. We really did bond! After a horrifying and somewhat-dangerous (think drug dealers beating on our door in the middle of the night, no joke) stint at a hostel after our 3am flight landed, my team quickly re-located (thanks to Brienna) to the Milhouse. We had tile floors, a porcelein tub, pizza place across the road, coffee shop next door, free breakfast, internet... in other words, just a fabulous time to relax. We got a new team member, Tim Weisemann, in BA. BA is a really cool city... it's a big city with modern shops and chain restaurants; there's an elaborate and nice subway system; we went to the zoo, park, market, saw some Tango and ate A-LOT-OF-BEEF.

London- one brief day of spring

2007-05-23T07:57:00.000-04:00

One of the curious things about traveling is how quickly seasons change. And then sometimes it's a little ridiculous.... In 24 hours I went from impending winter to a beautiful, British spring day. It honestly was so refreshing to my soul. I know I'm supposed to appreciate all of the seasons, ("God created summer and winter") but my Florida body just doesn't understand why there isn't perpetual warmth and sunshine in every corner of the world. So, though I landed in a wintry South Africa, for one brief day I rested in the sunshine and enjoyed spring.

Highlight of my London visit - ever since developing a (somewhat politically hypocritical) crush on Tony Blair, I was actually able to walk by his house. It was off of a sun-speckled sidewalk near parliament. He is very handsome. And that's all I'll say on that subject.

Girls goofing with guards

We stopped over for a brief 8 hours or so to hang out in London. Besides breaking out into hives after a midday jet-lag prevention nap in the park beside Buckingham Palace, it was fun. I love to share new places with Jimmy! (note well the NEW Harry Potter book is coming soon!)

Birthday! Good gifts...

2007-04-29T19:57:00.000-04:00

Happy happy Joy joy

L-R whole group plus Jimmy

The girls - L-R, Morgan, Katie, Amanda, me, Candice, Ginger

The pictures have arrived
Hot tub at the end of a wonderful day

From my big brother yay

Joy on my chocolate and heart sprinkled bed

At the most wonderful hotel ever

Ginger and Joy in the taxi, stage one of the best Bday with my girls

Joy and Amanda yahoo

Joy and Ginger hooray

Ginger and Amanda in our beautiful hotel room

Before I get too chronologically messed up, I wanted to begin a blog about my birthday. Now, this isnt exactly her fault but Im still waiting on the MAIN pictures, which are on Gingers camera. Hopefully those are coming soon.

My 22nd Birthday was an extravaganza. Having Jimmy on this trip has many many advantages, not the least of which is doting attention and on-demand back-massage privileges.

I woke up the Monday before my Thursday Birthday this year to a huge yellow poster that said, "22 surprises for 22 years of life!" And that was the beginning...

1. Morning hug, 2. Scripture encouragement, 3. "What I like about Joy", 4. Starbucks! 5. A new dress! 6. Earrings to go with your new dress, 7. a necklace to go with your new dress! 8. New shoes! 9. Salad lunch 10. Serious conversation 11. Diet Coke! 12. Another new outfit! 13. Nail polish... the day included 22 such surprises, a day in the mall, trying on dresses, being adored and affirmed, and then culminated in a web-cam Skype home! It was the most amazing day! Can anyone believe how thoughtful and beautiful he is to me? These are big shoes to fill. I dont have adequate words to honor him as he deserves. He is truly loving. And there is no more Christlike character quality than that.

Soooo I think that was a fabulous Birthday and I am completely content.

But is it over? Oh no.

Wednesday afternoon I receive a card from Ginger that says, "your survival kit must include..." and a variety of items... including a bathingsuit, workout clothes, magazines-reading material, and overnight toiletries. So, puzzled to say the least, and a little bit sad about missing my family and having to work a double-day building a church in Lomo, I drink up my Coke Light and continue on with my day.

And then, the morning comes... and the first surprise of the day is beautiful Brienna with a venti latte from Starbucks! (and this certainly is a sacrifice because she HATES getting up early). Then Annie hands me a box of chocolates and tells me to enjoy them today...and instead of putting on work clothes and getting in a bus up to Lomo I pack my pink duffel and put on my Birthday dress as the girls pick me up and hail a cab. And we are off!

I have no idea where we are going but continual hints of mountains and tents scare me a bit... but I will have a good attitude.

And then...

We pull up in downtown Lima to Los Americanos. The doorman in a suit opens the door and takes my bag and I see 5 of the most beautiful gleaming shapes on the door... 5-Star hotel, baby. Carpet, hot water, TOWELS (how long has it been since Ive had a towel??), a kitchenette, real beds, SHEETS, a TV, curtains, glass windows, wood furniture (any furniture!), a COUCH...

They are so thoughtful. My bed is littered with chocolate, there is Coke Light chilling in the fridge. Our hotel is next to a gymnasium and I am on for a Pilates class the next morning. There is a sauna and hot tub on the roof. I am in heaven.

We spend the next 24 hours in complete and utter bliss. It is enjoyable, relaxing, and lovely. I feel God in these girls. They get me to a computer, they find a man to give me his cellphone so I can call my mom on my Birthday... every single wish I could ever have desired has been abundantly fulfilled... beyond my wildest dreams.

Amanda and Ginger are true friends. I almost cry when I think about the fact that they have only known me for a mere 4 months are willing to so extravagantly bless me, and so specifically to my desires. I am in awe.

And, what is more, I am in awe of God. He truly does give good gifts to his children.

Thank you to everyone who made this the most undeservedly fabulous 22nd Birthday ever!

Peru

2007-04-29T19:33:00.000-04:00

Cusco, Peru! (Cusco-topia)

Can you believe I get to enjoy these experiences with my lovely brother? Im so happy!

On top of the world in Machu Pichu

My norms are coming.

Red Balloon

2007-04-23T15:45:00.000-04:00

I wrote this monologue to perform at worship night.

One day I took my foot off the break. I wasn´t even thinking about it... it was almost a twitch that I just followed through with. I don´t have a history of irregular behavior. I don´t even do weird things. I´m abysmally normal - routine, same old life. Even the smells in my life are the same: the acrid burning of a crusty coffee pot, a squirt of my vanilla perfume, a walk by the gutter for a smell of wet trash and soggy diapers. Usually I walk so I smell a lot of gross things (Anywhere humans congregate we tend to pool our filth). But for some reason that day I drove. I have a car... an old Buick, dark green, thousands and thousands of miles. It bears scars of its not-so-gentle interactions with other cars. I tend to rear-end people. It´s like the movie "Crash": however hurtful or damaging, sometimes we become so desperate for human contact that we just have to (CRASH) in to each other. For some reason that doesn´t make me shy. I like to drive and I´m going to! I have no reason to be defensive about that! I mean, I really didn´t do anything... it´s more what I Didn´t do. Yeah, that´s probably a better way to put it: one day I didn´t push the brake (it´s amazing that such a small action could create this much trouble for me. I´m sure there´s some physical equation for the amount of force needed to keep a brake pedal down... and it varies for different vehicles. ANd maybe the amount of force needed changes. So, in all reality, owing to the age and state of repair my car is in, it could all have been a mistake, a misjudgment, an accident.)

I know it wasn´t an accident. But the fact that it could´ve been helps.

It wasn´t a unique day. The sky was white (I hate white skies). I was late to my job as a dental tech. It´s not the kind of job that one can be late for without retribution. Maybe I was avoiding the inevitable backlash of my irresponsibility. It´s not my fault, of course. I burned my hand on the iron first thing. Then I got shampoo in my eye. Then I couldn´t find my Friday scrubs... the ones with the little doggies on them. (I hate those scrubs. I don´t mean dislike. If I could find the half-blind, graphic-design freshman who created that pattern and drag him by his trendy glasses out of Starbucks and throw him in front of a bus, I would. It´s a hateful swirl of pastels picturing brown, floppy-eared dogs. Now there are splotches of reddish-brown. Crusty red splotches.) After that level of stress, it was almost hateful for me to go into public.

I just remembered that I forgot to brush my teeth. I work in a dentist´s office. There are a lot of strange ironies in my life. Like, for example, how my route will have to change forever because I made one little social gesture. Maybe that´s what it was: rebellion against the pointless laws that are created to standardize behavior and have the unfortunate byproduct of conformity and classes. Maybe a big red sign is a familiar object - even to little kids - but I saw it then as a statement, and one I didn´t want to heed. So, I didn´t. What´re the chances that some fit mom running with a double stroller would cross the intersection and be on the receiving end of my gesture? Does anybody else find that strange?

I can´t say it was an accident because maybe there are no accidents. Based on my day, I think it´s safe to say that the white-faced fates glared at me, showing their opinion in no uncertain terms.

Some people get awy with everything- literally! Stealing, lying, cheating, you name it: lives without consequences. Do you know that when I was little my luck was so poor that on my 9th birthday I lost my red balloon, got pushed into the mud in my new shoes, and ran out of cupcakes before my turn? Well, whose turn is it now to be unlucky? Haha.

I saw her. I did. And I didn´t want her red balloon to fly away, I wanted it to (POP). I had to hear it. That´s why I went back. I wanted to commiserate, really... to know that someone else felt the dead weight of loss. When I lost my red balloon, I watched it float away until it was only a red speck. There is something very uniting between humans about being unredeemable. We can´t be saved. None of us. We can´t save what slips through our fingers... like catching water.

I think it´s the little things that set me off the fastest... like that drip. Some fluid was leaking from my car. A leak. I went back for the pop and heard the drip. I can´t imagine that I would be blamed for escaping such a god-awful noise Nobody likes repetitive noises. EVerybody gets annoyed sometimes. I can hardly be blamed. Just a foot. That´s all I actually did; took my foot off the brake.

I do remember some curved metal. It couldn´t glint like metal should becaue of the sunless sky. I hate it for not glinting.

We were near grass and there was a bit of a splash: red on green. Red on green. Like a stoplight. Maybe if there had been a stoplight I would´ve stopped. All red, oen tiny squirmy body lay on the grass but didn´t cry. I kind of hated it for not crying. Maybe if it had drowned out that constant dripping I would´ve been okay, I would´ve stayed.

I don´t remember much then. It was an uneventful drive but I felt all wet. I cleaned myself up; my nose was bleeding. Sometimes I get nosebleeds. I remember in highschool I loved Bobby Brown - a classic cutie. One unfortunate day I rushed to Geometry trying to stop a nosebleed and who should I hit as I speed around the corner? Bobby, of course. And now he thinks I´m gross, no doubt. I hate nosebleeds. I´m hungry for breakfast.

But the blood keeps flowing.

I pull my hand away after touching my nose: red fingers. I look to the mirror and am surprised to see red flashes of light. What´s happening?

Click. Click. I can´t open my door - it´s stuck-... why are my fingers red!?! What? Wh-? Help! My hands!

I can´t hold my balloon!

Commentary:

Sometimes our hate is so toxic that we can only see ourselves as wronged, never wrong. We are too self-absorbed to see the nose on our own face, the reality right next to us. Open your eyes. That reality you´re romanticizing may just be your fault. And all you think you did was lift a foot.

Peru

2007-04-18T16:05:00.000-04:00

I fear that this has degenerated into mere travelogue. But, for Mom, I will continue. I do not have the time nor the mental energy to exert creativity here... so I will just write the basic high points, travelogue y stuff. This is a new genre for me. Perhaps I could look at it as such.

Our host family here in Villa el Salvador! Juan, Estella and family. These are lovely people of God who were so kind, so generous... I am so grateful that they let 10 plus noisy gringos invade their home for 5 weeks. What an incredible blessing.

Juan Esteban. Every morning we wake up to hear him... talking in his own way... this picture is posed in case anyone wonders... but he certainly did have a lot of sugar at our going away fiesta! Did the little tyke in.

My lovely and beloved brother on the first day of Iglesia de Shalom in Lomo de Corvina... he is so popular! All the little boys run up to me saying, "donde es tu hermano? Donde es Jimey?".

On the christening day of the new church we built in Lomo de Corvina (through prayer, conversions, some discipleship, and actual construction). A very special day. In pastels. (L to R) Annie, Mary, Ginger, Morgan, me and down below is Rober.

Moto taxi! Or took took. A tiny, rickety little motorcycle with a steel tent of a body. 6 of us fit in one of these babies. And I cannot forget Camillo, our favorite moto taxi driver ever. I will miss you! Thank you for all of your hard work for us!

This is a typical view of Lomo de Corvina (backbone of the fish, I think it means)... lots of sand, hot and dusty dusty... little particle board houses. Some of them are quite nice with glass windows. Apparently the whole community burned down some years ago and they had to rebuild. It is fairly rural. The community has just recently petitioned government leaders (through a protest) to give them water and electricity, so we will see what comes of that. They live simply with lots of dogs and outdoor cooking and great big tubs (like an American garbage can) full of water. We built the first church in this area.

Peru 2

2007-04-03T11:24:00.000-04:00

Some pics of my world here in Peru.

We are super-busy, pulling like 15 hour days... it's emotionally exhausting! But I'm not complaining because I can see good in it: we are doing what our host church asks us to do and that is good, plus I am being stretched in new ways to rely on God! It's somewhat of an introvert's nightmare but I can see that as good if I look at it thus: any opportunity I have to reach the end of myself (emotionally, physically, spiritually) is an opportunity for me to learn to rely on the Holy Spirit for virtue and grace. And that reliance is part of my life goal anyway! So I refuse to call it bad or complain. I am grateful for this season here in Peru!

Guatemala!

2007-03-31T17:23:00.000-04:00

This is a picture of the orphanage/school I worked at. Every morning around 7:30 I walked about a mile beside the highway to "God's Child" - this project for underprivileged children. I got to help cook and clean up breakfast and sometimes lunch. These are the friends I worked with (from L-R), MaryAnn - a retired lawyer from N Dakota with liberal political views and a fabulous humanitarian mission; on the far right is Miriam - a girl in her early twenties from Sweden who has traveled pretty extensively in S. America working with orphanages, etc. We had so much fun working together. It took about an hour to cook and serve, about 2 hours to do dishes (three buckets, one for rinsing, one for washing with soap, and one with bleach water) for about 75-100 kids each day. We talked and joked. The main kitchen workers (full time) were Donya Mary and Donya Anna... they were lovely ladies! They laughed at me a lot and often Donya Mary would surprise me in the morning with a cup of coffee at my elbow. Hooray! One day I walked in late, unbelievably dishevelled from having practically run my morning route, with my shirt inside-out, wearing tennis shoes and a dress, and I think it may have been the funniest experience of their lives. They literally laughed for ten minutes. Moments like that were so precious... when, despite our language barriers and differences of religious thought, we could unite around the commonality of life... clothes and time and food... things that are innately human and that dignify all of us alike.

This is a view of Pedro Hermano, the hospital that I volunteered at with the Abuelitas (grandmas). Every afternoon I would take the cobblestone road after my cup of coffee, pin on my name badge, and walk through the narrow doors to the common area. It was an open roof with planted roses nearby and a fountain-like sink for washing. I would greet each of the abuelitas with a kiss and a "buenos tardes!" and then sit with them for a while... drawing, trying to speak Spanish, praying in my heart. At 4pm we fed them dinner. One of the things that struck me especially was the tenderness and joy of each of the nurses. At night, there is only one nurse for 26 ladies! During the day I think there are 4-6 nurses on duty. Those duties include everything from feeding, changing, washing, and medical attention. Truly overwhelming, right? But these women, of any I've ever seen working in that setting, had so much joy! They laughed and joked with the ladies; they had an amazing amount of patience and peace. That is beautiful.

This is a picture of Ginny, a YWAM missionary who was, that night, celebrating her one year anniversary in Guatemala. Twice she invited us over to her gorgeous roof-top apartment for dinner and fellowship... and when I say fellowship I really mean it. Ginny has an amazing heart for mentoring. I connected with her a lot, because I saw her as a godly older woman. She has certainly suffered but has run to her faith in God. She really studies the Word and seeks God every single day. Those things may sound cliche, but they are truly powerful for someone like Ginny whose heart is completely dedicated to the causes of the Kingdom. I can't honor her enough with my words. She is a woman of God.

I think that my cultural view of Guatemala wasn't nearly as extensive as my view of Mexico. We stayed mostly in the city of Antigua, which looks a lot like Europe. It feels a lot like Europe too. It's pretty multicultural with a lot of luxuries and "normal" elements (like a Burger King). We did do a few days out in livingston, a Caribbean town, where we saw some more cultural living. Anyways, my list is short but here are the Guatemala norms...

1. Bright, saturated colors as can be seen on the chicken bus above ("how many Guatemalans can you fit on a chicken bus?" Answer: ONE MORE!)

2. The most open-armed hospitality i've experienced yet... they loved to feed us.

3. Speaking of food: eggs, sausage, rice, chicken. And... that's about it. Sometimes we got potatoes but not often to my recollection. A typical meal was a chicken drumstick and rice.

4. Organization and polish. There was a whole different degree of personal grooming (people wearing hair-gel, makeup, nice clothes, heels, cologue/perfume) in Guatemala. There was also a professionalism about people's interactions that seemed unique from MX.

5. Dogs. I mean there were dogs in MX... but there are dogs here EVERYWHERE. Street dogs, city dogs, country dogs, mangy mangy gross dogs that seem to belong to no one and everyone.

6. People are a similar size here to MX but have vastly different facial features: larger ears and eyes, broader faces and smiles, wider faces and hands.

7. The currency here is quensalas, about 7 to the dollar. Centimos (sp?) is the change.

8. Language. From several accounts, Guatemala has the purest Spanish in C. America. Antigua is the Spanish-studying epicenter of the area.

9. Rocks and trees. Less dust and desert. More hills and greenery.

10. Intentional planting - people like decorating and landscaping.

11. Big guns. Guarding banks, walking down the street, doing processions... there was a proliferation of old-school, enormous guns.

12. The climate in February/March was cool, mid 70's probably, in the city and much warmer, mid 80's to 90's, in Livingston by the water.

Well, I by no means did justice to this fabulous country.

So far, this has been my fondest time on the World Race, probably due to the ministries I got to be involved with. I'm grateful for Guatemala. God bless it.

Poems

2007-03-27T16:57:00.000-04:00

I'm swimming in happiness reading Salinger. Leah sent me, "Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters" and "Seymour: an Introduction." I simply love the way he sees and treats life. He didn't seem uniquely happy (Seymour or Buddy, really) but was one of the truest poets I've ever read... in the most real sense of the term: he saw life in a poetic way. I think a poet probably must simply be one... and then jot something down every so often. I think that's why Mr. Holt told me that my most powerful form of writing was my "crazy note." Stream-of-consciousness is where art happens. We must practice and set up the parameters for expression, but one doesn't "learn" art as if it were a routine or habitable framework. The true artist glides and moves with fluidity and adaptibility, observing the minutae of life. Those who are skilled at expression are not, by default, artists; those who have an artistic soul may live lives of constant frustration for their ineptitude at expression. The artist truly engages - at the most basic level - in self-expression, because it is the fabric of being that equips someone to create.

Jimmy took this photo of Becca at the school.

Here are some recent poems. The first is not good but expressive, at least, of my current state of mind.

The Need to Live

I want to wrap my tongue

Around tumbling lyrics

And push air through my lungs

To belt out a strong note

I need to run sand through my fingers

And let rocks cut and graze my toes

Snuggle my face against an unshaven beard

Fall into pillowy and moist lips

I need to squeeze and pull weights

To punch and jump and kick in front of a mirror

I feel like twirling a baby, until I'm dizzy

And we both fall down onto scratchy carpet

To lay on a cold leather couch

And realize life is too exciting to sleep...

But to exhausting to not lie motionless

Sometimes

Sometimes I just need to live

Fully present in this body

And be kinistetic.

Worship in the temple.

The lady

With a dainty toe

And a calming hand

She glides on... presently.

I Sat

I sat while the bird flew

And tried to fly after him

Ruining the moment of flight.

I waited while you walked away

And tried to walk after you

And missed the gait.

I stood still while the ant worked

And tried to work with him

Ruining the industry of his work.

I meddled when I'd rather not

I halted where I shouldn't have stopped

And all this in the end

Is nothing less than pretending

I have more answers than I do.

I don't often know what to do.

And I'm sure that you feel that about me too.

Gust

The legs cross, one, two

While the toe fidgets mercilessly

Inciting unwanted action.

I don't claim to be much of a poet... but here are my attempts to see poetic dimensions in life. The last one is about Jimmy sitting beside me at Sbux.

Peru!

2007-03-27T16:46:00.000-04:00

Flying over Lake Managua, Lima, Peru... the race... worship... prayer... Lomo de Corvina (a small town uphill where we're doing ministry stuff).

This is my new home.

Thoughts:

Exodus 33:12-18... "Is it not your going with us" that makes us distinct to the peoples of the world? Be with us, God. God is near to me.

"What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us." Ralph Waldo Emerson

"The earth shall soon dissolve like snow/The sun forbear to shine/But God who called me here below/Will be forever mine." Chris Tomlin, "Amazing Grace (My Chains Are Gone)"

I love and miss you all. I need to do a Guatemala post. It will be out of order. Oh well.

The end of a deep breath

2007-03-06T16:57:00.000-05:00

I feel like this weekend was a giant sigh... a giant, "it is what it is" (hi, Mom).
We went to the lake and it was amazingly relaxing. I missed my kids and my cooking and my abuellas but I did enjoy the brief break. For the first time in a while, I felt God. It was really windy everywhere, these pounding gusts of wind filled with dust. I went for a walk in the morning for a couple of hours, just being, no agenda. And he was with me. Can I even explain that to you? If you know what I mean, then you simply do. He was with me. The wind blew in gusts and whipped my hair and he was there; the flowers pulsated color in the balmy morning sun and he was there; the water sparkled and whitecapped in the wind and he was there; the bus driver almost hit me and we had a good laugh and he was there; Jimmy got off the boat, my heart leapt into my chest, my prayer was answered and he was SO there! I sat and I stood and I walked and I almost danced because my God was with me... there is no place on earth I´d rather be.

And now I´m back in Antigua and back to work for a brief time. I missed my friends and my abuelitas. My life is a joy here.
Today at the hospital I talked to my friend Nidia at length. (My Espanol must be mejor because I understood the vast majority of what she said.) She starts explaining her life to me... she is 25 years old, she has been sick for 15 years, in a wheelchair. People pity her because she can´t walk. She wants a boyfriend but they say she´s only a friend... because she can´t walk. People say she isn´t beautiful because she can´t walk. She kept saying that over and over again: I can´t walk, so people feel sorry for me, men feel sorry for me, they don´t want to be my esposa. And it felt like the end of a long breath: a tightness in my chest, nothing to draw in, a moment of inactivity, as I sat there and watched her eyes fill with tears.
I feel like she gave me a precious gift of self disclosure and I didn´t know what to do with it... so I stared at my shoes.

I usually know what to do. I know who I am and what I want and why I´m here. But for some reason, I´ve been unglued lately. Perhaps I´m simply more honest. Perhaps I´m disillusioned. I´m not upset by this... just silenced. I´m just quiet.

I don´t have answers for Nidia. I don´t know why God allowed her illness (which I think is cerebral palsy) or made her undesirable to men. And I also don´t know, as I look at her, what it would be like to be a 2 5 year old with little hope for marriage and a family, when that is the desire of her heart. I have no idea what that feels like... that door maybe closed forever.

I cried with her.
I cried for her.
I cried because I don´t get it
And I never will
And even though that´s okay
It´s cry-worthy.
I don´t regret it...
Don´t regret not preaching
Or explaining theology of suffering
Or walking away feeling that she was better armed to cope with her condition... because maybe she´s not and maybe I don´t make a difference in her life... but what I can do is be with her, just like God was with me. I walked beside her down the squeaky tile floor and went to the tienda and gave her a cold Pepsi in Jesus´name and I was there. And for now at least, that´s the best I can do.

Exhale slowly.

Unlikely source

2007-02-28T22:07:00.000-05:00

An unlikely source to provoke decent thought... but it did, nonetheless. I'm sitting in "the chicken place" while Annie studies and the boys watch the second-by-second update of a basketball game (welcome to the luxuries of missionary life!).
I'm reading "Dracula" by Bram Stoker. I feel it is necessary for me to be well read... but it is kind of... eerie, spooky, terrifying, etc.

This quote, tho, provoked thought. And since I haven't done a book review in a while...

"'You are a clever man, friend John; you reason well, and your wit is bold; but you are too prejudiced. You do not let your eyes see nor your ears hear, and that which is outside your daily life is not of account to you. Do you not think that there are things which you cannot understand, and yet which are; that some people see things that others cannot? But there are things old and new which must not be contemplate by mens eyes, because they know--or they think they know--some things which other men have told them. Ah, it is the fault of our science that it wants to explain all; and if it explain not, then it says there is nothing to explain. But yet we see around us every day the growth of new beliefs, which think themselves new; wand which are yet but the old, which pretend to be young--like the fine ladies at the opera."

Hm.

Things that go thump

2007-02-28T12:44:00.000-05:00

Uneven paveway
Rocky road? Haha.
Bikes jolting around
Tin roof
Falling, falling... thump
The clash
Of the unusual
Becoming familiar
Normalcy is a sieve
For my very perception
Knife slicing...
Broccoli, tomatoes, carrots
Varying thickness
Varying sounds
Scorching winds scatter dust
Crunch
Clump clump
Thick shoes
Revving engine
Motorcycle?
Collisions and avoidances
The essence of relationships
Set the cup down
Tap the keyboard again
Music on my ipod
Tap the toes
Smack the table
Brush the dirt off
Get that dirt off your shoulder...
Brush brush
Scrape
Swish splash
Wash
Silky swipe
Paint
Rub hard
Pat softly
Squeeze and release
And just listen
To the things that go thump
And bump
Skid, slide, swirl, swoosh
Slow down to hear what rushes by.

Moi Bonita Guatemala!

2007-02-28T12:33:00.000-05:00

Team is good... Guatemala is moi bonita! I'm working in an orphanage/school in the mornings in the kitchen. I chop thousands of peas... serve up atol to the kids... mop, sweep, wash dishes literally for two hours straight... yes, I do. Then I get my coffee and walk home slowly, usually worshiping and praying. After lunch I rest for a few minutos and then jet to the hospital. I work at the hospital with the abuellas! It's the first thing I actually want to take pictures of... these ladies are precious! Hilarious! I get so much joy from this. One lady in particular, Donya Alejandra, literally hates me... she yells at me every time I come near her. It's actually funny to me because I know she doesn't mean it. Most of the ladies are wonderful to me.
Due to my lack of Spanish, I've started learning to draw. So I take my pencils, markers and paper to the hospital and draw pictures of the abuellas... then I show it to them and let them color it! I didn't realize they liked them until I saw all my pictures taped up on the wall in their common area. Precious.
I've also found that drawing is a good conversation starter... as I sit in the park I draw and people come up and ask what I'm doing, am I an art student, etc. and it's a great segue into conversation.
So, God is good. I feel more useful at last and am very content in my daily life here in Antigua.
Dios la bendiga!

This post was largely for MOM. Travelogue. Good times.

Editorial

2007-02-19T10:56:00.000-05:00

Here're life pics... from Puerto Barrios and Livingston

Top to bottom
Team getting ready to leave with our packs... yes, I carry all of my life possessions like this for hours in the blazing sun... that may be a little dramatic but it is heavy; I can sleep anywhere anytime... this is on a slow boat to Livingston; we had evening church at someone's house in Livingston; many generous families hosted us for lunch; the last morning we made our pastor's family a big pancake breakfast... dulce!; hot springs day trip... sure it smelled like sulphur but it was hot water nonetheless; tenting it in the church; playing music in Porto Barrios with my boyfriend.

Guatemala pics

2007-02-19T10:50:00.000-05:00

Livingston
This pastor's family could be the happiest family I've met. There was something about them that reminded me of my family. There were an alleged 12 kids, though we met only 6 or so... they all live in this lovely dirt floor compound and the father is the pastor of this church. They play together. We fell asleep at night to the sound of them all up, laughing together. This pastor knows his congregation and cares deeply for them. He has a tender heart. Armando, the 15 year old son, and I played keyboard and guitar and sang songs. They are just fun and I am very encouraged in my heart to know that they live and labor for the same God.

*oh, and for the record, I did NOT wake up at 5 in the morning to see this sunrise. But I heard it was good.

Guatemala!

2007-02-06T12:15:00.000-05:00

Antigua, Guatemala is completely lovely. I am in heaven. It is such a cultural change from Mexico... coffee shops everywhere, lots of tourists around, heavenly weather (low 70s I´d guess), paved roads, pretty people. I´m looking forward to my time here. Please pray that we get to work at an orphanage! For full details of the race, see one of the other blogs... they´ve written incredibly detailed reports of our 5am wake up call (amigos! Amigos!), lake submersion, and surprise race start. I am proud of my team. We were able to maintain a good balance of fun and competition. I enjoy the challenge of the race portions!
More importantly, though, I am excited about seeing what roads the Holy Spirit has prepared here in Guatemala. I am eager to be obedient to his leading this month.

The 1st pic is one Josh snapped of me praying.
The 2nd pic is of the cross we had to hike up to in Antigua (early morning... raced to it, prayed for an hour, then raced to a park and a fountain for the finish line.)

MX norms

2007-02-06T12:06:00.000-05:00

I feel like I want to compile a list of MX stuff. I´m already in Guatemala... good trip (long trip, good grief). But I don´t want to forget things I thought about MX while there for a month.

Mexico (Aguilar, Chiapas)

Mexico is...

-The land of many speed bumps (there are speed bumps everywhere! And you don´t slow down in advance... the driver slams on his brakes just before and then creeps over the bump. Why?)
-The land of corn tortillas. Every taco stand on the side of the road sells tacos with semi spicy salsa, super greasy, wrapped in a napkin... a corn tortilla and either carne or intestines of some sort all wrapped up for about 4 pesos.
-The currency, obviously, is pesos. During our time here it´s been about 10.74 ex rate.
-Mexicans are, as a rule, pretty friendly people. It seems rare to speak English, though.
-Mexico is low class. In general, it is a very poor country compared to other Latin countries. There is a lot of rural living that really only consists of the basic necessities of life. I wouldn´t consider it impoverished by any means but it is very minimal living. There are, however, many available European style toilets.
-Oranges. A lot of oranges. (the fruit)
-Mexicans are big on eating meat and it seems pretty accessible. The best foods I ate here were tamales (cooked in a banana leaf) and tacos.
-Plantains and bananas look very similar here. Jon had a funny incident with that.
-The Mexican church leadership seems to be vastly under trained. Few have had theological education and there seems to be a lack of unity between denominations... a very lamentable lack of support systems for pastors, especially those working in rural areas.
-Much more mountanous and gorgeous than I thought! Lush and green... we were here during a rainy season so there was a lot of mud but there are always many many bodies of water. I didn´t expect that.
-TURKEYS EVERYWHERE. Gobble gobble all night long.
-Nasty, mangy dogs roam the streets by the dozens.
-Most kids wear clear plastic sandals. Most adults wear muck boots (presumably because they work in the fields).
-There is a huge cultural norm of cabeilleros or cowboys! They ride horses with Mexican style blankets on them, wear cowboy hats and big belt buckles, play mariachi music and sleep in hammocks (we lived with one such man). It is very Mexican. Very machismo.
-Bright colors... Mexicans appreciate bright houses, signs, and clothes. Very very saturated colors.

I liked Mexico much more than I expected to.
God, I pray your divine presence settle on Mexico in a powerful way. Revive the Mexican Church. God I leave my blessing on Mexico.

To sum up...

2007-02-01T14:35:00.000-05:00

...satisfactory first month. Soy contento. MX has been fab. Aguilar, our little town, was terrif. Mi corazon es moi triste to leave these precious ninos. I really do love them. I dove into this thing headfirst and am content.

I want to live well and love well. I did both insofar as I know how.

Here are my babies.

My favorite little girl is Juana. The boys are fab ... Nato, Idao, Jose, Migel, Luis (me amore... my nobio according to him), Pasqual, Nicolas, and on... and on... and lovelies.

Living

2007-01-22T12:04:00.000-05:00

I just had coffee with Amanda, my mentoring partner for WR. We had a good vent. I am in Palenque (in a city) for the next couple of days after a week in a more rural setting called Aguilar out here in southern MX. I was sad to leave this morning... I love being with the kids in Aguilar.

Anyways, Amanda and I are woven of similar fabric. We both love people and traveling but rather cringe at traditional white man missions. It is bad enough to perform cultural faux paus unwittingly but even worse to impose our version of spirituality on people before whom is displayed the majesty of God in the form of mountains and rivers and skies.

I was reading in Psalm 19 about how the heavens declare the glory of God and the skies proclaim the work of his hands... there is no speech or language where there voice is not heard, their message goes out to the ends of the earth. (I cannot find quote marks on this keyboard, apologies). It makes me realize this one essential truth, especially of people surrounded by natural beauty, the innate message of creation (that there exists a personable Creator God) is louder and more meaningful than any message I could articulate with my feeble words.

I am not here to make Christians... I am here to live. As I sat on top of a hill the other day and had some time with the Lord, he kept reminding me, THIS is why you are here. To be with Jesus. To adventure with Jesus. To live with Jesus.

These people, any people, do not need my words (even less my English words, since they speak Espanol, haha), they need to know this Creator God, who has gone to such great pains to display himself and his character in their world.

My voice is so weak compared to his. The voice of the Lord breaks in pieces the cedars of Lebanon... so I will speak, of course, when I can... but more importantly, I will walk with Juana down to the river and clap for Jose as he learns to jump rope and throw the frisbee with Migel and I will go about my living... hoping never to think myself capable of eclipsing the grandeur of Gods glorious message, alive all around me, available to all mankind.

Oh, and...

2007-01-10T16:41:00.000-05:00

Today we had a prophecy session (these crazy charismatic AIM people! They are seriously more charismatic than I AM and that´s saying something) and God was having people call out what they feel their calling or ¨inheritance¨ is.

This is what God said to me -

You will hold dying people. You will escort people dying of AIDS to the gates of heaven. You will witness, to honor and dignify, the final moments of people´s lives, pray the final benediction, and usher their spirits into the presence of God.

That isn´t appealing. But I feel it very deeply within me.

Check

2007-01-10T16:26:00.000-05:00

I´ve spent the last like 6 months checking all of these things off my list - buy a tent, bug repellant, sleeping bag, plenty of decently cute clothes so my self esteem doesn´t come entirely unglued as I slowly devolve into an amazon missionary woman... yaknow, the normal stuff. As I´ve gotten going, tho, I´ve noticed the main check has been in my spirit. (how cool was that transition?) (ok, it´s contrived, but I seriously have way too much time to think through all these rather boring training sessions) (moving on).
I´ve realized two main things - missions is my callin (I´m alive again!) and I need daily reality checks.
I´m reading Francis Schaeffer to keep my brain alive.. and this quote grabbed me by the throat and held me up for a second of breathless self-examination -
¨Man´s attempted autonomy has robbed him of any certain reality.¨
It´s so easy for me to say that I depend on God... I don´t stress about 30 hour bus rides or sleeping on a cement floor or bugs... I´m easygoing, I want to do the Lord´s will with all of my heart, I will go wherever he says... and yet... and yet.
And yet of course there is a part of me - maybe quite a large part if I´m honest - that separates. I escape from a God who knows me too well, a God who loves me too much for comfort sometimes (I´m not worthy! says my false humility), who sees everything. And I want my autonomy. I want to be Joy. All that that is in its uniqueness and specialness. I don´t want to die to flirting, gossip, self-indulgence, pride. I don´t want to be completely honest about my past or my pain. And that is the catalyst for a life disassociated from reality.
I think I feel this most acutely because I really am most myself on the mission field. This is me, the purpose for which I was born, and my soul knows it very well. So I am confronted in that incredibly naked moment by the reality of God... and I would rather dream. I would rather think I´m great.
I doubt this is an unnatural place to be but it is undesirable. I want this year to really be totally present in every moment... without my typical daydreams or fantasies. Even if my fantasy is an orphanage with charismatic 3 year olds, that dream can still be an escape for me from the moment of smallness or helplessness that I don´t want to feel.
I want to see God´s eyes and not turn away.
I don´t want to live embarassed...
I don´t want to live escapist...
I want to really live...
And my reality check is that the only way to do that is to really die.

And More!

2006-12-28T10:09:00.000-05:00

Jimmy's artsy B&W shots.

2006-12-28T09:57:00.000-05:00

I'm starting to get that weird-somewhat-desperate-spend-every-minute-and-make-sure-to-record-it-by-taking-lots-of-pictures mode. Three days, people.

(Leah, I'm saving up until I have a lot of time because I'm having some really intense emotions about leaving you... I don't want to have just a casual conversation... but I do care... so I'll call.)

(And CW seriously call me, dude. I'm LEAVING.)

Happy Christmas! 06

2006-12-27T10:08:00.000-05:00

PJ's, playing guitar, hiking with ridiculously enormous backpacks, practicing with all of our weapons (except Joy-the-pacificist, of course), playing basketball, grillz, dancing around like maniacs, eating copious amounts of food, stockings = McCarty Christmas.

Happy happy happy.

(Grumpy, sleepy, dopey, doc...)

A change

2006-12-24T00:39:00.000-05:00

Well I'm kind of annoyed.

It is going to be virtually impossible to blog on two different things all year! I have this blog and my WR blog. But this blog I like because it's archived back so far. Hm. Conundrum. (ha, that rhymes).

Well, for this one at least I'm just going to copy and paste. So this same blog is on both sites. And before I put it on here let me just say I am LEAVING for a year in like 8 days... so if we haven't talked in a while PLEASE call me to say goodbye! And if I don't answer... well... you know how it goes. Leave a message. I'm going to be really really responsible this week.

Home Stretch

One by one I'm closing out the details of my life... saying goodbye to precious people, once again preparing to spend great lengths of time on anti-malarial medication... my heart is both under attack and in desperate anticipation... I'm dreaming of Africa - of hot wind and the grit of sand in my teeth... I'm thinking of the unparalleled feeling of novelty and excitement when I step off a plane into a new place...

It sounds like I'm getting ready to go on a mission trip.

As I've visited and reflected one thought has struck me. There are two very distinct versions of Christianity and I witness both in people I know. There is one version of Christianity that is very good - good church attendance, good deeds, good prayer life, good theology, good fellowship. There is nothing overtly amiss in this practice of Christianity. But there is something intentionally escapist. There is a neglect of radical sacrifice; of violence, of death to self. Sometimes I say to myself, "I wish I could be a good Christian." Those who know me know that I don't fit the stereotype well. I wish I could go through life and think God is good and do enough and be satisfied.

But I can't.

And this is why: I'm a haunted woman.

I'm haunted by the faces I can put on poverty; of the names I can put on suffering and martyrdom; of the sallow cheeks, the dry and cracked skin, the embrace, the hot breath, the flowing blood, the hate-filled eyes... these are not abstractions to me. I am haunted by the reality of the lost and dying and I cannot ignore the responsibility that this knowledge gives me.
And this is why I will go and I will live and I will die for this cause. This is why I will forego other dreams, alternative life-plans, ambitions, goals... I surrender them. Because those concepts are people and those people mean too much.

That's why I can't just be good.

"...the kingdom heaven suffers violence, and violent men take it by force." (Matt. 11:12, KJV)