the heart of a global nomad

full-time traveler

2012-01-24T22:35:00.000-06:00

Dear reader: If your time is limited, skip the post and read the quote at the end...that’s all I really wanted to share, the rest is just my ramblings...

The new year came in what felt like a whirlwind of events and emotions. I made some last minute resolutions in order to keep up with social demands and for conversation sake, but without putting much thought and intention into them. A modest New Year’s Eve celebration was shared with my closest friend, Anna, her precious baby boy, and another friend. Just before midnight, she went to her husband’s concert to kiss her beloved at the strike of 12. I stayed with Charlie and had the great honor of placing a kiss on his sweet cheek to welcome in his very first new year. It was low-key, but memorable.

The first day of 2012, I was on the road again, continuing my journey to Texas. Less than 48 hours after my arrival, I was sedated for the removal of 4 wisdom teeth. The hours and days immediately following are a blur of indistinct memories. As I regained endurance and consciousness I remember feeling like I had missed the coming of the new year. That sense of a “fresh start” which frequently accompanies the first week in January was absent. My rushed resolutions seemed careless and generalized. A need for a fresh start to my new year was recognized...but fresh starts are hard to come by when I’m in transition. Allow me a moment to tell you what being in transition is like for me. In previous blog posts I have referenced both appreciation and moderation of having a routine. When I am in transition (specifically referring to the weeks or months in between my jobs and my trips, during which I have no consistent schedule or agenda), I don’t have a routine and I get a little lost and lazy. To put it plainly, without a schedule or deadlines I am not very good and managing my time and I have little motivation to do so. With this being the case at the start of 2012, I could not seem to get my mind clear enough to enter the new year with that fresh sense of renewal and preparedness...so I decided to put off new years until February 1st. (It’s okay, you can laugh). This has released me of the pressure I was putting on myself to be ready for the new year. With that pressure removed, I was able to enjoy my still whirlwind first weeks of January and face other unanticipated decisions and events that were thrown at me. Now, the last week in January, I am a little tired from what was supposed to be my “time of rest” and I am eager to start my next job and eager to establish a routine, if only for 8 weeks. I am returning to Virginia, this time to the Eastern Shore, for a 2 month contract job starting this week. I feel much more prepared and excited for my “new year”, and I have had some time to put thought into establishing a few more meaningful personal resolutions.

As I am daily reminded of the homelessness I feel on this earth, the passage in Hebrews 11:13-16 comes to mind. The great “heroes of faith” were described as “admitting that they were foreigners and strangers on earth” and “longing for a better country—a heavenly one.” It is hard being a full-time traveler. It is a challenge to stay focused, motivated and on task with the ever-changing and sometimes non-existent routine. Whether you are in one place or travel about, we are all travelers on a journey through life on earth. As followers of Christ, we are not called to an easy, comfortably-routined life, we are called to be travelers, foreigners, living in the world, but keeping ourselves from the world. At the Medical Missions Seminar in Ft. Worth last weekend, John Carr shared an excerpt from the 2nd century Letter to Diognetus regarding Christians. This is a long quote, but it is worth taking the time to read and consider the implications. Are we carrying on this identity that the early Christians portrayed? Do we live like foreigners on earth?

Christians are not distinguished from other men by country, language, nor by the customs which they observe. They do not inhabit cities of their own, use a particular way of speaking, nor lead a life marked out by any curiosity. The course of conduct they follow has not been devised by the speculation and deliberation of inquisitive men. The do not, like some, proclaim themselves the advocates of merely human doctrines. Instead, they inhabit both Greek and barbarian cities, however things have fallen to each of them. And it is while following the customs of the natives in clothing, food, and the rest of ordinary life that they display to us their wonderful and admittedly striking way of life. They live in their own countries, but they do so as those who are just passing through. As citizens they participate in everything with others, yet they endure everything as if they were foreigners. Every foreign land is like their homeland to them, and every land of their birth is like a land of strangers. They marry, like everyone else, and they have children, but they do not destroy their offspring. They share a common table, but not a common bed. They exist in the flesh, but they do not live by the flesh. They pass their days on earth, but they are citizens of heaven. They obey the prescribed laws, all the while surpassing the laws by their lives. They love all men and are persecuted by all. They are unknown and condemned. They are put to death and restored to life. They are poor, yet make many rich. They lack everything, yet they overflow in everything. They are dishonored, and yet in their very dishonor they are glorified; they are spoken ill of and yet are justified; they are reviled but bless; they are insulted and repay the insult with honor; they do good, yet are punished as evildoers; when punished, they rejoice as if raised from the dead. They are assailed by the Jews as barbarians; they are persecuted by the Greeks; yet those who hate them are unable to give any reason for their hatred.

To sum it all up in one word, what the soul is in the body, that is what Christians are in the world. The soul is dispersed through all the parts of the body, and Christians are scattered through all the cities of the world. The soul lives in the body, yet is not of the body; Christians live in the world, yet are not of the world.

Letter to Diognetus, adapted translation by Paul F. Pavao, Christian History for Everyman. Italics mine.

Celebrate

2011-12-23T15:13:00.000-06:00

The car is packed - somehow fuller than when I traveled here in September. I've earned a free coffee at the local coffee shop which I intend to redeem to kick off the journey. I have one last patient to see, a few more goodbyes to say, then I'm off again. This place has taken me on a journey I never expected. I am grateful to have learned new skills and gained insight from this experience. I am blessed to have developed life long friendships with people who I can call family here. I am honored to have seen tangible ways that God has worked through me here. Who am I that He would choose to use me?! It is awesome and humbling to be used by God.

As we embark on this Christmas holiday weekend, I am mindful of the great privilege it is to be a child of God. The privilege that He, our Creator, chose to send His son for us. Indeed there is much reason for celebration this weekend and everyday. God loves us so much that he made Himself accessible to us. He wants you to be a part of His work, His perfect plan. He wants to use you, will you make yourself available?

this crazy life

2011-11-30T20:51:00.001-06:00

I do crazy things. Many of the crazy things I've done might be categorized as "dangerous", I'm sure I'll agree when I have kids. I explore foreign cities alone, I host strangers, I have jumped off cliffs, I make long road trips in a car that doesn't always start, I still eat food even if I find a hair in it, I drive long distances to meet up with friends for a few hours, I wake up at ridiculous hours to watch worldwide historic events, I sleep in airports, I leave airports to explore the city if my layover is longer than 5 hours, I climb trees and rocks, I frequently stop on the side of the highway to take pictures...the list goes on. When I hear other people talk about horror stories with travel I can't decide if I have just been spared these dramas or if it is truly a difference of perspective. God has shaped me into who I am today through my crazy adventures. Through these experiences I have learned to not be afraid of trying new things. I have learned to be flexible and to face the inevitable hiccups and curve balls in life as new challenges worth working through and learning from. I have learned to expect the best from people -with discretion- before I assume the worst about them. I have learned that time with people is worth the trip to meet up with them. I have learned that God does provide in more ways than we realize. I have learned that everyone has a story worth hearing and providing a listening ear is of great value to those who receive it. I have learned to not live in fear of strangers, of catastrophe or of change, but to learn from them (Prov. 3:25). I have learned that some things are worth loosing sleep over. I have learned that not everyone shares my perspective.

I am still learning. I attribute my experiences, the lessons learned and the perspective I am gaining as from the Lord. And I am thankful. I expect and hope that He will continue to grow me and teach me through my crazy experiences.

I am about to embark on a new adventure. In just a few short weeks my comfortable routine is about to be disrupted…again. My life is about to change. As I write, I realize that every day has the potential to be a day that changes your life forever. Something dramatic could happen or something as mundane as a conversation with an old friend could stick with you and effect your decision making, thus altering the course of your life. There are plenty of questions swimming in my head as I face the changes ahead, but my excitement outweighs my fear because I live in communion with a God who does not change despite the changes life throws at me. I worship a God who has a purpose and plan for my life however crazy or seemingly mundane it is. With excited anticipation I look forward to the crazy life that lies ahead!

Oh, and for those who are curious, I don't yet know where I am going next.

"I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want." Philippians 4:12

"Because God wanted to make the unchanging nature of his purpose very clear to the heirs of what was promised, he confirmed it with an oath." Hebrews 6:17

"Many are the plans in a man’s heart, but it is the LORD’s purpose that prevails." Proverbs 19:21

“...a sweet friendship refreshes the soul...” ~Prov. 27:9 (the Message)

2011-11-12T23:55:00.003-06:00

In Wednesday night ladies Bible class, the lesson was about being thankful for friends. As we read scriptures about friends and talked about where we make friends and the random friends that come across our path, I couldn’t help but smile. A smile stayed on my face throughout the remained of the lesson as I thought through all of the different friendships that have made and impact in my life. Some friends that I may never see again. Friends met on airplanes, trains, buses, who served as friends in transit, in times of confusion, in times of peace. When I needed a friend, a friend was provided. Friends that I’ve known my entire life, without whom I can’t imagine what life would be like. Friends from high school, college, grad school, jobs, family friends, my parents’ friends whose impact I have inherited. How can I not be thankful! What would life be like without these relationships? I pondered all this with a smile, realizing that I don’t have to wonder what life would be like, because my life is rich with precious relationships! Yes, I indeed have plenty to be thankful for.

I have just passed my halfway point for my 13 week contract in Front Royal, VA. Already God has blessed me with some life-long friends here. Some of you may recall I had a bit of a rough start with this placement, but it is these friendships that have made a difference and changed my perspective about my experience here. This will be another place that I recall fondly. I will have reason to come back here for a visit. This isn’t my home, but I have found a place and a purpose here. I have a family here.

“Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art… It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival.” - C.S. Lewis

Shenandoah National Park

"God's fingerprints are everywhere..."

2011-10-23T21:56:00.000-05:00

Last weekend I was blessed to be able to attend the wedding of a dear friend in East Tennessee. I realized that this is the 5th October in a row that I have attended a wedding. Apparently October is the month for weddings in my circle of friends. It was a refreshing break to get away for a couple of days and be among like-minded friends. The wedding was beautiful and although I was busy for a good part of the preparation and ceremony, I was still soaking up the fellowship. Following the Saturday wedding, Sunday morning we had a small church gathering at the home of the bride and several hours of sweet fellowship followed. The group included several missions-minded, God-seeking individuals and that is what I needed to be around. I was encouraged by conversations I took part in and those I just listened to. I felt like I was among family even though I wasn’t close to very many of the attendees and I am related to none. But that is one of the joys of being a part of God’s family, being among family even when you are surrounded by “strangers”. I returned to Front Royal with a renewed sense of self and of purpose. Going away allowed me to gain a refreshed perspective on my time here and step back and get a glimpse of what God is doing. Even though I may not be able to relate to the community of believers here as easily on some levels, they are still my family, and for that I praise God. In my work, I am feeling a greater sense of confidence and purpose as I fill the role that I have been put here to complete. And as far as friends go, I am humbled by how God continues to provide for me despite my worrying. This weekend was a great example of that.

As the end of the workday approached on Friday, I was scrambling to make weekend plans to explore a new area or go for a hike. No one seemed available or interested and I have been strongly advised not to hike alone in these parts. In a last effort, I left a sticky note on the desk of the traveling PT. She is from Texas and being a fellow traveler, I know she is trying to make the most of her time here. She and her husband were more than willing to do something this weekend so we decided to check out the Luray caverns on Saturday. As we were making plans, a friend from church contacted me about the weekend and she decided to join us as well. The sights were amazing both below the ground and the fall colors above the ground. I continue to be overwhelmed and amazed by all the beauty and creativity that God put in this world! After our fun explorations we went out for a dinner filled with great conversation and lots of side-aching laughs. It was a Saturday well-spent and I was laughing at myself for feeling so pessimistic about having “no one to hang out with”.

“And my God will meet all your needs according to his glorious riches in Christ Jesus.”

Philippians 4:19

Virginia is for Lovers

2011-10-08T23:14:00.000-05:00

Upon entering Virginia by any of the interstates there are three signs that greet you. First is the friendly “Welcome to Virginia” sign complete with a cardinal perched on a lovely dogwood branch. Following this beautiful sign is a small black sign which reads: “RADAR DETECTORS ILLEGAL”. Okay, that doesn’t bother me because I don’t have one and I knew they were illegal in some places. But then there are these large black intimidating signs which read: “SPEED LIMIT ENFORCED BY AIRCRAFT” wait...WHAT?! Aircraft? I quickly scanned the sky. I’m not sure how this works, but almost as frequently as speed limit signs, these signs line the highway. Being black, I tend to take these more seriously, glancing up at the sky and in the rearview each time I passed one. Virginia has a nationwide reputation as being the strictest on traffic laws. I only saw one cop from Dallas to Johnson City, TN. I saw at least four along Interstate 81 in Virginia.

Here is a hilarious photo I found on another blog which captures the image
I had in my mind as I monitored my speed and kept an eye on the skies.

My first two weeks in Front Royal have gone fairly well despite a few bumps in the road with work. I wasn’t able to work for the first two days because my state SLP license had not yet been issued. The time off allowed me more time to get settled in and get a feel for this place where I have landed. I live in the lovely home of a generous and kind-hearted retired couple. During the week they keep their 6 year old grandson in the evenings. This sweet little guy seems to think that my sole purpose in being here is to play with him. He knows I’m only staying until Christmas, but I think he might be heart broken when I leave. Tonight he told me that he loves me.

Today was Front Royal's annual Festival of Leaves. My morning started with a grueling 5k on the most hilly route I have every run. I was grateful for the encouragement and companionship from a co-worker who agreed to run it with me. I caught the tail end of the parade and then perused through the booths lining the downtown streets. It was the typical festival lineup: candles, canned preserves and sauces, face painting, a few local artisans, local charities, and of course funnel cake and BBQ. There was some decent live music and then there was this other guy lip syncing Johnny Cash with a broken blue guitar. My afternoon was spent exploring the Skyline Drive, Front Royal's current claim to fame. The family I live with showed me some beautiful views along the drive through Shenandoah National Park. It was a beautiful day and one well-spent.

The people here are friendly and have not made me feel unwelcome, however the longer I am here the more I feel the distance between myself and this culture. This is a small town and I am an outsider. The vast majority of residents here — at least the ones I have encountered — have deep roots in the area. Being 26, single and childless seems to ostracize me even more. Frequently conversations are centered around opinions on what so and so did or does or doesn’t do. I’m still trying to process it all and figure out what my response should be, if any. I want to be a positive influence, but frequently the begrudging runs deep. I want to shed some light, but I am an outsider, what do I know. My life feels so disconnected from the world I have stepped into here. In previous places, I have felt needed, I have felt used by God, despite being a “short-timer” as one previous co-worker called me. Here I just feel like a foreigner, welcomed, but uninformed. I am learning from this experience and I hope I am being used. It is not a bad experience, just a new one.

Shenandoah National Park

"Let your conversation always be full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone." Colossians 4:6

F.A.Q.

2011-09-25T22:49:00.001-05:00

It has been about 3 months since I finished my last job in Colorado Springs and I’m about to begin another in Virginia. Three months of traveling. Three months of catching up with friends, making new friends and answering some of the same questions over and over and over again. I’m not really bothered by the questions —except that is takes away from other conversations that we could be having about life and world events— I recognize that it’s all part of the package that comes with living such a “fascinating” lifestyle. I would be asking those same questions...sometimes I do ask the same questions of other people in similar situations. So I decided that since these questions are so common, it must be interesting enough information to post for all to read. I have narrowed it down to five of the most common questions:

#1. “How long are you going to be doing this traveling thing?” Let me offer you this perspective: How long are you planning to be a teacher, nurse, lawyer, preacher, stay at home mom [you fill in the blank]? Do you plan that out with an end date? It’s a slightly odd question in any “normal” context, right? I don’t have it all planned out, I have visions of what direction I would like to go, but I am just prayerfully taking it one step at a time. I’m traveling. This is what I do right now. (It is a legitimate question, though). Through this I have found that because my location and job changes every three months I am faced multiple times throughout the year with the sobering question of “where am I going with my life?” Each opportunity to travel or take a new job is a chance to stop and re-evaluate and seek the Lord’s guidance in my life. It isn’t the easiest way to do things, but it is a frequent reminder to be mindful of what and Who I am living for. Short answer: I don’t know, but He does.

#2. “Isn’t it hard having to change your routine all of the time?” Yes. Just about the time that I am finally feeling more comfortable and confident in a routine of sorts, I realize I need to start saying goodbye and packing up. Working out, daily time with the Lord, journaling, consistent weekly time with friends — these are all things that suffer when there is no routine. However, another perspective has also been brought to my attention through this experience. With a constant disturbance of daily routine there is freedom to live each day without your own agenda, but seeking to be open to God’s leading. I’m not very good about this, but I’ve just seen the potential that could be with this routineless lifestyle. The biggest key for me to keep some sanity, despite the inconsistency, is to work hard to build relationships and to get into a routine of sorts as soon as possible. The sooner I get into a routine, the sooner I feel more at home and more productive and purposeful with my time, while at the same time I try to leave myself open to God's redirection each day.

#3 “Where do you live?” I believe that I have been blessed with the perfect upbringing to prepare me for this transient lifestyle. I’m certain this is not what my parents had in mind when we moved from home to home on furlough and when we hosted people in our home, but this is an example of putting into practice the lessons I learned from those experiences. There’s a place for all the mushy stuff about “home is where your heart is”, but practically speaking, I have come to believe that your earthly “home is where your stuff is.” Yes, I realize how shallow that sounds, but ultimately heaven is home (see first blog post for more thoughts on "home"). So I have found the closest thing to my earthly “home” to be the dear home of the Selby family who have graciously welcomed me into their family and their home for several years in my times of “homelessness”. For over a year now, boxes with my earthly belongings sit in a closet in their beautiful home. A stop at their house is on the way to everywhere for me. I stay at their home (in “my” room), I am a part of the family, I unpack, I repack, and I leave again. Repeat. When I am on a job assignment, I have the option of finding my own housing or allowing the contract company to cover housing with a cut of my paycheck. My first assignment I lived in a hotel (see blog post) — not a bad experience, but I have found a better way. For the last two assignments I have contacted one of the local churches asking if anyone has a room to rent out. I would rather be in a home than a hotel and as I learned growing up, the church is my family. In the previous job and for this current one, I have not known the individual or family I would be living with prior to my arrival, but both have been wonderful experiences (so far). Thanks, mom and dad, for teaching me how to comfortably and respectfully make myself at home in any home.

#4 “You should write a book!” Okay, this isn’t a question, but a comment that I have gotten enough to put it on here and respond to publicly. If you stop and think about it, you'll realize that I don’t have enough drama in my life to make for an interesting book. It would just be a series of adventures and events...that sounds kind of boring to me...unless it is published in blog format...voila! This will do for now.

#5 “Where are you going next?” I arrived in Virginia to a warm welcome from the family I will be staying with for the next three months. Not more than 10 minutes into our conversation, I was asked this question. Later that evening another person asked me the same question shortly after introductions. I have found the frequency and consistency of this question amusing. The answer: I don’t know. I have a few ideas, but generally speaking, going into each assignment, I haven’t had a plan for the next step. I’m just glad to be in one place for minute.

Where am I?

2011-08-24T12:24:00.001-05:00

There have been a few times on this trip that I have had to stop and think about where I am. That’s pretty bad, when you’ve hit so many places in a short amount of time that you wake up trying to remember what country you are in, where your going and where you came from and it takes a good 30 seconds for it all to come to you. “I’m in Phnom Penh, Cambodia, I’m going to Bangkok on Tuesday”, I rehearsed silently in my head. When I arrived in Bangkok 3 and a half weeks ago, I remember being surprised by how normal it felt. This was my second time in Thailand, but I can hardly count my brief 3-day visit 5 years ago. For practical purposes this was my first time to experience Thailand. And when I arrived I realized that experiencing new countries is becoming...old hat to me. Really? Did I just say that? Not old hat in a bad way, but in the way that it’s more comfortable than it is new and exciting (like a familiar broken in, old hat). Part of me is proud of that, and part of me mourns the naiveté I once entered new cultures with. This is not to say that I don’t still appreciate cultural variety, nor am I implying any expertise in variations of cultures. I am still fascinated by it, it’s more that I am not shocked by crazy drivers dodging tuk tuks and motos or strange “hairy” fruits or noisy street vendors lining the road at night — I’m not shocked, but I still enjoy it. To be clear, I still love and desire to know more about the variety that God has allowed to flourish in this world. Maybe I should say I appreciate it at a new level.

I have mentioned before that when leaving a place, I don’t ever leave thinking that I will never return. When I left Cambodia 5 years ago, I felt certain that I would return again someday. Ever since that 10-day visit, Cambodia has stood out to me. Returning in the same way I entered the country 5 years ago, through Siem Reap, was somewhat surreal. As we descended I admired the rice fields and canals we had meandered through on our boat trip to Battambang. I had forgotten how flat it was here. The airport routine was exactly as I had remembered it — a line of about 20 officers seated behind a continuous row of desks that pass your passport down the line, each completing his special role in the visa process (I’m told there is one guy that just turns the page). This trip was different from the last one because I was not coming as a tourist (though I had hoped to explored Angkor Wat again). I joined Katherine Gould, a friend and co-worker of my parents in China, to visit some of the street kids that she had built relationships with through a short-term mission trip in March. We spent 5 days hanging out with, loving on and just having fun with some of the street kids from Siem Reap. Many of them are the kids that go around selling postcards and bracelets to tourists. We tried to provide a chance for them to take off their pitiful vendor hat and just be kids. By God’s grace, I think we somewhat successful. With the older kids we enjoyed some good quality time, lots of tut tuk conversations and rounds of Uno. A few of them even joined us to serve at a local orphanage, and even more came to church with us on Wednesday. It was a blessing to spend time with them, but in some cases it was hard to see the reality they live in each day. I want to look away and plug my ears, but I can’t ignore it. I want to protect them, but I can’t. All I can do is continue to encourage, and to pray.

Following Siem Reap, Kat and I parted ways, she on to Singapore and I boarded a bus to Phnom Penh. I arrived in Phnom Penh, not exactly sure what I was doing there. Good friends from Harding, Chris and Casey, had invited me to come stay with them, so I had accepted. I wasn’t really interested in being a tourist in Phnom Penh (there’s not that much to see and much of it is heart wrenching reminders of the pain the Khmer Rouge inflicted—don’t care to see that twice). I arrived praying and hoping that in some small way I could be a blessing, at the very least, not be a burden to my hosts. I enjoyed spending time with this sweet family and sharing experiences from my MK background. Chris and Casey are doing such a great job raising their three children to love the Lord and the people around them. I was taking notes. Saying goodbye at the airport was hard for the kids, and it made me wonder at what point I began to understand and be okay with goodbyes. (I’ll have to ask my mom how I handled goodbyes at 3 and 5 years old). While in Phnom Penh, I also had the opportunity to observe and serve with a nutrition program that brings food and education to surrounding villages daily through GRACE for Cambodia. I also taught a 2 hour beginner English class on my last day.

As I finish this post up, the last of the passengers are boarding our B747 to Tokyo. When I boarded, I couldn’t remember if it was morning or night. It was dark outside and after sleeping in the airport, I was a little disoriented. The sun is just starting to brighten up the sky, confirming the time of day for me. It will do me good to be back in a routine, but I’m not sure when that will be as I still have at least 2 weeks of travel ahead of me upon my return to the US.

Reunion

2011-08-08T06:00:00.001-05:00

When my brother was in college he observed that it was amazing how you could be in a room filled with good, loving Christians (such as Harding’s chapel or church), yet feel so alone. I have had similar experiences particularly when going through culture shock and feeling like no one knows, cares or can fathom where I’m coming from (...the plight of a third culture kid...). But as I have gotten older, I have also found this to be true — being in a room filled with complete strangers yet who share a common passion for the Lord paired with international experiences, and feeling quite at home. The Asian Mission Forum is an experience I tend to fit into the later category. Although this year there were far more people present that I actually knew as compared to previous years...giving it in many ways, more of a reunion feel.

The team in Chiang Mai, Thailand hosted an excellent 50th Annual Asian Mission Forum with a focus on the faithfulness of God throughout the years and the legacy of early missionaries that lead the way in Asian missions. This was the largest forum yet. I enjoyed the key notes (one of which was my father) and the classes, but my favorite part was the conversation and time spent with like-minded global nomads. It was refreshing to hear people share perspectives much like my own and be reminded that I am not alone, there are people that can relate to my story, there are people that share a global view of the world and understand what it means to have lived or grown up in another country. There were some present that my family has known from when I was very young, there were friends there that I had only just met last year, and there were new friends that I met for the first time this year. I cherish the time I was able to be in their presence and value the work that they are doing around the globe. To God be the glory!

Following AMF my parents and I, along with some good friends of ours traveled south to explore and vacation along Thailand’s coast. In our group we have four Chinese, four Americans and one stinkin’ cute Chinese-American baby...we are one big happy Chinese-American family! I am enjoying the time with both my parents and this “extended family” despite my limited Chinese. It is a blessing to have family around the globe and to get to spend time with them and travel with them.

Trains, planes, and a baby

2011-07-03T11:35:00.002-05:00

This post comes to you from Cusco's Aeropuerto Internacional Alejandro Velasco Astete. The skies are surprisingly quiet for an airport as only one airlines appears to have the technology and skills to land and take off in the drizzle and cloud cover that is hanging over this ancient city. Every time we hear an airplane there is a pause as everyone looks longingly out the window in hopes that it is an incoming StarPeru or Taca flight, nope, just another LAN flight. The food options are becoming scarce as the airport's eateries are scrambling to accommodate for the crowds of frustrated travelers. StarPeru has given us reason to think we may have a flight today. The situation is clearly out of their control, we are appealing to the only One who is in control. "Your will, not mine Lord". Who would have thought that out of all the forms of transportation we have used on this adventure, the flight would give us the most trouble.

After our peaceful visit at Lake Titicaca, we headed north hoping to make it to the base of Machu Picchu in one day. We traveled by taxi, combi, mototaxi, bus - repeat. We made it to Ollantaytambo, a lovely cobblestoned town where we found accommodations for the night. We caught the first train out of Ollantaytambo to Aguas Calientes, situated near the base of Machu Picchu. I had heard that the train ride offered amazing views, but that is an understatement. As we meandered through the valley next to a rapid river, we were awed by the steep peaks that were revealed as the morning clouds lifted. We began to notice thicker and more jungle-like vegetation as our train approached the destination. While taking in the sights, Megan and I had a delightful conversation with the two gentlemen across from us. Taka is a Japanese geologist living in Houston and traveling Peru and Bolivia for a month. Paolo, an Italian whom we had initially understood to be a professional clown, is taking a few weeks vacation from pursuing his degree in education. We were disappointed to learn that he just has a desk job, but he does have the personality of a clown.

Upon arrival in Aguas Calientes we dropped off our bags at the hotel and began hiking up Machu Picchu. Despite being at a lower elevation, we were challenged by the climb. Frequent rest stops provided opportunity to soak in the breathtaking scenery. Once at the top we enjoyed exploring the maze-like ruins and taking picture at the classic "I was at Machu Picchu" photo spot. I'm not sure what I expected, but I was blown away by how large and intricate the ruins were. The clouds passing between surrounding mountains made for a majestic backdrop. We opted to avoid the slippery steps down afterwards by taking the bus as the rain set in again. While waiting we noticed a bus that had just arrived was drawing a crowd. Soon we heard rumors that Jim Carrey was onboard. Before boarding our own bus we caught a glimpse of the distinctive Jim Carrey smile before he disappeared into the mob of body guards escorting him through the gawking crowd and into Machu Picchu. I would not want to be a celebrity!

Early the next morning we boarded a train back to Ollantaytambo. On our car was a large group of Japanese tourists and a few other backpackers. Last to board was a woman who looked to be in pain and two men accompanying her. All other Peruvian locals were in the other cars except for these three. Megan and I dozed for the first part of the ride, after we were served a snack and hot drinks I noticed that there was a small commotion around the Peruvian woman 3 rows up whose pain had clearly escalated. The conductor was calmly asking passengers nearby to move back a few rows while one of the men traveling with the woman put on surgical gloves. "I think she's about to have a baby!" I told Megan in shock. While we were still trying to grasp the situation before us and determine whether or not our assistance was needed, the woman was moved to the floor, a few loud groans, and then a baby's cry! Some of the passengers gasped, some began to clap, most were starring with jaws dropped thinking, "did that really just happen?!" We weren't given very long to be shocked before we had to start reacting to the amniotic fluid that was running down the aisle of the train. The conductor brought out handfuls of paper towels and toilet paper as passengers scurried to move bags off the floor and stop the fluid. After the situation was more under control, the proud papa paraded his newborn down the aisle while the Japanese tourists oo-ed and ahh-ed and, of course, snapped pictures of the precious baby. Yes, we got a picture as well. As we rolled into the station, the parents sat proudly and calmly admiring their little one latched on to mom's breast. An unforgettable train ride, to say the least.

From Ollantaytambo, we caught a combi to Cusco. The fields and pueblos that had been glowing in the setting sun on our ride in were coated in a light blanket of snow and it continued to fall until we began our descent into Cusco. Despite the rain in the valley, we tried to enjoy Cusco as best we knew how. Our hostel was conveniently located near the city center, making all of our destinations walkable. At the Cathedral, we did the audio tour which helped us understand much of the artwork and symbolism. I had two primary reactions to the decor of the Cathedral: first, appreciation for the attempts at cultural integration when Christianity was first brought to Peru. The artwork was full of slightly humorous cultural nuances, for example: llamas instead of camels, local dress, a Guinea pig on the table of the last supper. My second reaction was one of sorrow for the extensive presence of seemingly polytheistic influences still strong in the Peruvian Catholic church which draw away from the power and relationship with our Lord.

From the time I began compiling this post to now, much has happened. We boarded our plane last night, only to find out that it was cancelled. After hours of waiting we were finally given our checked bags and told to return in the morning for a 6am flight. There were no more buses to Lima by that time. Thankfully our hostel had two open beds. At dinner we had a delightful conversation with our waitress who inquired about our faith after seeing us pray before our meal. This morning we were the first people at the Star Peru desk at 4:40. By 5:30 our fellow passengers from the night before were lined up waiting for our promised 6am flight. It wasn't until about 5:45 that we were checked in and told we would depart as soon as the weather cleared up a bit. Security was late in opening and by the time we were through, they were giving a final boarding call for our flight. "Really? Are we actually leaving? No more false alarms?" The plane departed at 6:45, and there was cheering as soon as we lifted off the ground. Not long into the flight, one of our flight attendants noticed us reading the Bible and shared with us bits of his story and interactions with church and scripture. After he collected the trash, he stayed and chatted with us for the remainder of the flight. We weren't sure how much of his motivation was from talking to two American girls and how much was from talking to believers, but either way he was excited to give me his contact info to be passed on to the missionaries here in Lima. We praise the Lord for our safe arrival into Lima and for our warm welcome into the home of John Mark and Tara Davidson. God is present and active in the hiccups of life, I thank Him for reminders like this to trust in Him.

gaining altitude

2011-06-29T20:43:00.000-05:00

I don´t know when this will be posted because I have no way of knowing when we will next have wifi, but I thought I should go ahead and document recent adventures. Today is June 28, this is our 4th full day in Peru. We started with an overnight in the Lima airport followed by an early morning flight to Arequipa. Greg and Megan McKinzie, Harding friends and missionaries welcomed us into their home for our stay in their beautiful city. Arequipa stretches across the foothills of El Misti, a snow-capped volcano, and their winter is bright and sunny with perfect temteraptures during the day and a little chill at night. My traveling companion and good friend Megan Dooley and I enjoyed exploring the city following recommendation from our hosts for the best places to eat and see. I was entranced by the vibrant colors inside the Monastario de Santa Catalina. Lonely Planet describes it as a ¨photographer´s paradise¨ and indeed it comes close. Megan and I were surprise by the spacious living quarters provided for the nuns, and pondered at the notion of isolating oneself in devotion to the Lord. Megn brought my attention to the following quote on a translated plaque at the Monastary which really spoke to us:

After more than 400 years we are still here, because our contemplative vocation is LOVE. This is our great secret of being happy: to be in love, neither with an ideal nor a project, but with Jesus Christ.

Allow that to soak in for a moment.

We enjoyed our visits with Greg and Megan about the work in Arequipa and enjoyed time with their precious kids. On Sunday we were delighted to break bread with the famiy in Arequipa. Megan and I have been trying our best to use the limited Spanish that we know. We attempted to participated in the time of sharing without use of translation - I think we were successful. Other highlights included learning aobut alpacas and llamas at Alpaca Mundo and trying fried cuy (look it up) and alpaca.

Early Monday morning we traveled by taxi, bus, combi (local vans) and walking about 2 km to get to the lovely Hospedaje de SaMary owned by Felix Turpo on Lake Titicaca. We had read that this was a delightful place, but we were a little skeptical as our crowded combi approached the town of Llachon. Llachon is the last stop, and upon our arrival we asked where we might find the home of our host, we were vaguely directed on to the next community of Santa Maria. We had read that it is possible to just show up in one of the peninsula´s communities and be invited in for a place to stay. As we wandered around the empty plaza, uncertain what to do, I was reminded of Bible stories where travelers waited in a town´s square or at the gate until invited in. We had opted to make reservations with on of the recommended hosts from Lonely Planet, but now we weren´t sure how to find him. Soon a young man rode by on his bike, being the only person we had seen in a while, we stopped him and asked if he could direct us to the home of Senor Turpo. He smiled shyly and said ¨Soy su hijo¨(I am his son). (Another Bible story comes to mind). With prayers of thanksgiving and with laughter in our hearts we followed him down the dirt road to his peaceful home where Felix and his wife greeted us warmly.

It is from the stone patio of this humble abode that I am composing this post. We have enjoyed delicious meals, breathtaking views and good conversation (as good as can get with our limited Spanish skills). We went out on the world´s highest navigable lake this morning (3808m, 12,493ft) and hiked to a lookout point at the top of a hill. We have suffered through cold showers where the steam is coming off our bodies instead of from the water, and have felt completely out of shape in this thin air. But this has been a joyful adventure. The people ar beautiful and generously make us feel welcome with their genuine smiles and warm hospitality. Our prayer is that in some small way we have shown Love to them.

The adventures of my Gardenia Bonsai and Me

2011-06-23T23:18:00.000-05:00

And so we are off again into another season of traveling! Pikes Peak was looking particularly magnificent as I drove through downtown Colorado Springs one last time on my way out of town. I had been dreading the drive, knowing that with nothing but plains ahead of me, and mountains fading behind me it would be a particularly sad and boring drive. I am happy to report it was not near as bad as I had anticipated for three reasons: 1. A dear friend from the Springs sent me on my way with a fabulous music mix to keep me going (thanks, Aleta!), 2. The prospect of the many exciting things planned for this summer kept my mind occupied, prayerful and upbeat, and 3. I had a quiet, but delightful traveling companion—my newly acquired Gardenia Bonsai. It was about 2 weeks ago that I came home to a plant sitting on the kitchen table. Thinking it belonged to my roommate, Amie, I commented on how lovely it was and asked where she was going to put it. She and her mother (who happened to be there that day) quickly corrected me and explained that it had been delivered for me! For me? Why in the world would anyone send me a bonsai??? I soon discovered that it was a thank you gift for helping out with a wedding. My first thought, “How in the world am I going to take care of this while I’m traveling.?!” The more I admired the plant, the more I grew attached to it...still uncertain how this was going to work. Saturday morning, I loaded up all my belongings and carefully set my gardenia in the seat next to me and we were off. She was a good listener, but not much in the way of navigation. While staying with grandma for a few days, a few blooms appeared so the second leg of our journey was much more fragrant. As is the case with most of my traveling companions, and even when I’m alone, the trip was documented with a few stops for photo shoots. Enjoy!

Staying hydrated, we each had our waters, I'd take a drink and Gardenia got a squirt

Crossing the state line

No Texas road trip is complete without this stop

There are more adventures on the agenda this summer, some with Gardenia, some without. For those who have been asking, here is a rough itinerary of my summer:

June24-July5: Backpacking in Peru with my friend Megan
Mid-July: Memphis and Searcy
July 29-Aug12: Thailand for AMF and time with parents and friends
Aug 13-24ish: Cambodia
Aug 26-31: Colorado for a wedding and visiting friends
Sept 2-5: Charlotte

There will be a few layovers in Dallas to unpack, repack, and visit between some of those stops and the plan is to be back in DFW, looking for another travel position (not necessarily in DFW) after Sept 5th.

I hope I get to see a few of you along the way!

Uchenna

2011-06-17T02:07:00.001-05:00

My 3 month stay in “Colorful Colorado” is quickly drawing to a close. I leave the day after tomorrow. It is 10:30 pm, I have not yet started packing, but I feel the urge to write. I vowed that I would post on my blog one more time before leaving Colorado, and being the procrastinator that I am, I have waited up until the last couple of days. There have been plenty of fun things I could have and should have posted about. Plenty of adventures to document — two trips up the Manitou Incline, white water rafting at Royal Gorge, Mt. Herman, the failed attempt at Pikes Peak — and plenty of fun stories from daily life — walking to work, foxes and deer crossing the street, smoke from the wildfires, the funny things my kiddos have said... I have enjoyed every bit of it (except maybe the smoke), but I have not taken the time to share them with all of you — my apologies for my selfishness. There is one story, however, that I feel compelled to share...

My dear friend Missy requested to treat me to dinner tonight. After much debate and consulting our co-worker and local ethnic food expert, Jenny, we decided on an Ethiopian restaurant in Old Colorado City. Uchenna is discretely located in a small strip between a tattoo shop and a salon. Missy and I joked about how several of the Ethiopian restaurants we have been to are in strip malls next to tattoo shops. Upon entering, we were welcomed by an enticing aroma of spices. We took a seat at one of the 6 tables in the eatery and admired the handiwork that adorned the walls and shelves. Baskets, paintings, somewhat of a hodgepodge of African, Middle Eastern and American decor gave me the sense that this place was legit. After a short wait, an Ethiopian-looking woman greeted us with a particularly warm smile and samples of the specialty teas. She helped us through the menu inserting anecdotes of cultural insight and playful comments. As other customers finished their meals and left, two things stood out to me: no one left without a warm hug from “Chef Maya” as if they were regular customers, and there was a guest book that was provided to customers along with the bill. Something was different about this place. Our food arrived and Missy prayed over our meal. Not long after we were well into the salad, Maya came by to fill up our water and adamantly thanked us for the prayer. Each time she came by, her love for the Lord became more evident in little blessings, comments, and acts of kindness. As she served each customer, she took the time to show them how the food would be eaten in her culture and served with such joy and peace that it could be felt throughout the small restaurant. We paid the bill and shared our thanks and blessing in the “Book of Friendship”. Maya did not let us leave without a warm hug and briefly sharing with us in the richness that God has brought into her life. We went on our way filled up with a deep Joy that can only be found in the presence of the Lord and yummy food. Maya is a missionary. She loves people and serves genuinely, recognizing that by serving her customers she is serving God. Uchenna means “God’s will”. I believe it was God’s will for Missy and I to meet Maya tonight. He used the encounter to encourage each of us and fill us up with His Joy. No matter where I go, whatever cultural and language barriers lie in the way, when I cross the path of a fellow follower of Christ, I am with family. We are one in Christ. What a powerful testament of His love.

I do not know what God’s will is for me in the coming months as I continue on this journey. But I know that He is present, He is active and my path is His to direct. I continue to be richly blessed by the people He brings across my path and I cannot help but praise Him.

Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins. Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling. Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others, faithfully administering God’s grace in its various forms.
If anyone speaks, he should do it as one speaking the very words of God.
If anyone serves he should do it with the strength God provides, so that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ.
To HIM be the glory and the power for ever and ever. Amen.

1 Peter 4:8-11

A break in the rain clouds gave Pikes Peak a majestic glow this evening during our short pre-dinner hike at Red Rock Open Space.

"Wander wherever your curiosity takes you..."

2011-05-28T21:18:00.003-05:00

-an information sign upon entering the “trail-less” Great Sand Dunes National Park

There are some places and experiences that stand out in my memory whether for their beauty, the experience, the company with whom I witnessed them, or a combination of the above. I was going to list a few of my favorites here, but the list just kept getting longer, so I’ll just let you think of your own. The most recent addition to my “awesome experiences/places list” is the Great Sand Dunes National Park and Preserve in Southern Colorado. I cannot quite put into words the beauty that lay before my friend, Missy, and me as we stood in awe admiring the dunes while the sun sank behind them last weekend. The clouds were catching shadows of sunlight from beyond the dunes as they slowly cleared from the passing storm. When we looked to the north we could see the outline of snow capped peaks hidden from view by the clouds; as we looked to the south, there were flat plains with low clouds hovering just above them. And directly in front of us lay the dunes — calm, peaceful, looking like delicately shaped mounds of soft leather. It was in that moment that I found myself compelled to sing praises to the Lord as I witnessed more of His beautiful creation, I could not help it. I continue to be blown away by the vast variety and creativity that this world has to offer, and I’m not even thinking about the impressive creativity produced by man — although there is a good amount of that as well, which I also attribute to the Creator who made us to be creative beings.

When we woke in the morning, the sun was hitting the sand perfectly, resembling mounds of gold waiting to be discovered against a backdrop of clearing rain clouds. We spent a good part of the morning slowly making our way to the top of the highest dune. The view from the top was breathtaking as miles of dunes stretched before us leading up to the mountains in one direction and into the plains in the other. Enough of my descriptions, go and see for yourself. And if you cannot, here are some pictures to give you just a sense of the fantastic scenery. (there is also a short video documenting the fun Missy and I had at: http://youtu.be/FUFqdVhM_jU).

The heavens declare the glory of God;
the skies proclaim the work of his hands.
Day after day they pour forth speech;
night after night they reveal knowledge.

They have no speech, they use no words;
no sound is heard from them.

Yet their voice goes out into all the earth,
their words to the ends of the world.

~Psalm 19:1-4

I have three weeks left in Colorado Springs. Three brief weeks to enjoy the company of friends with whom I instantly bonded. Three brief weeks to appreciate the surrounding beauty and opportunities that amaze me daily. Three brief weeks to leave an impression on the families and children I work with. This week I started preparing my patients and their families for the transition to a new therapist. I have gotten a variety of reactions when I break the news. No sighs of relief, which I suppose is a good thing, but I have had a few parents be particularly upset, and I can understand why. I was trying to explain to one parent that “this is what I do, I’m a traveling speech therapist”. As I heard myself say those words I began to wonder how that sounded to her and to other parents and friends. “This is what I do, I build relationships, and then I leave. I break children’s hearts, I disappoint, I abandon.” Horrified, I wondered if that is the impression I am leaving. A friend once sent me a link to the song For Lovin’ Me by Peter, Paul & Mary, saying it reminded her of me. Although the context and the sentiment of the song is far from how I feel about my relationships and my travels, I can see where she is coming from, and it makes me sad to think that this is how some people might think of me. The lyrics include:

That's what you get for lovin' me. I ain't the kind to hang around with any new love that I've found. Movin' is my stock in trade, I'm movin on. I won't think of you when I'm gone. So don't you shed a tear for me, I ain't the love you thought I'd be, I've got a hundred more like you, so don't be blue, I'll have a thousand 'fore I'm through....But then someday when your poor heart is on the mend, I just might pass this way again. That's what you get for lovin' me...

This is the part of being a nomad that I hate. The part where I get to leave feeling like my life has been enriched by the experiences and the relationships that I’ve formed, but when it seems like no one else sees it that way. I leave expecting that I will see my friends again (see bits and pieces), I leave hopeful that I have been used in some way to bring light into someone’s life. I leave, and they stay. I have to be reminded that not everyone thinks like I do, and that disconnect is what I so dislike. I don’t mean to build false hopes, to disappoint, to leave people feeling abandoned, that is not my intention at all, and I hope I can somehow ensure that my friends here understand that before I leave.

Do you not know? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. ~ Isaiah 40:28

a lesson in topography

2011-05-03T23:33:00.002-05:00

Seven weeks in and six and half weeks out, I'm at my half way point for my time in Colorado Springs. It's amazing how quickly time passes when living in 3 month segments! When I moved to Dallas nearly 4 years ago, I had a list of things I wanted to do while there. It wasn't a formal written list, just a few things that I had every intention of accomplishing while there. One of those things was to volunteer with Catholic charities to work with the immigrants and refugees in the area. I put in my application and went to an information meeting but by the time my background check cleared I was busy with work and grad school and kept putting off returning their call to figure out how I could be involved regularly. Three years went by and I never took the time to make that a priority. The same was true with other good intentions, including going to a mavs game and a rangers game - two more frivolous "to dos" on my Big D checklist that never happened. I did a lot of other very cool and fun and meaningful things, but my point is that I am pretty bad about putting things off — I am a procrastinator in life (as evidenced by the frequency of my blog posts). Living life in shorter segments however is teaching me to make the most of every day, every week and that is especially true with my current placement in Colorado. You know how you think of all the things you want to see and do while you are on vacation or visiting a new place and then when you go, you actually do them, or at least most of them? Well that is kind of how my life is right now. When I first arrived in the Springs, I was overwhelmed by how many things there are to do — I still am! There are endless options for hiking, biking, running and exploring in and around the city, besides all of the unique points of interest and local shops. With only three months to see enjoy this beautiful part of creation and the people that live here, there is a heightened sense of urgency. Nearly every weekend has been spent discovering a new area with a friend, everything from trying a new restaurant to going on a hike to driving across the state. The lifestyle of learning to make the most of every opportunity is one that I could stand to live with long after I leave Colorado.

a typical view of Pikes Peak from my neighborhood

the clouds coming across the city from the mountains

One of my favorite things about living in Colorado Springs is the view of the mountains from just about anywhere in the city. As I drive to work, I look to the west at every cross street to see Pikes Peak just over the trees and roof tops. When I walk out of work at the end of the day, I turn around to see the mountain towering over the city. There have been several days in recent weeks that the mountains have been hidden from view by a thick blanket of cloud. Yesterday, as I drove home from a grocery run I could not see the mountains, but I could see clouds coming down from the peaks and rolling across the city. I wondered what surprises the clouds held for us as they moved my direction. Less than a mile from the house, I noticed white flurries blowing into my windshield. Sure enough, it was snowing on May 2nd. It did not stick, it rarely does. And today it was sunny and warm.

The mountains are full of surprises besides sending us unusual weather. Several weekends ago, I made the 2 hour trip to Buena Vista for a ski weekend. I expected that I would be driving on winding mountain roads the entire trip and nearly an hour into the trip I was lost in my own thoughts, admiring the mountains and expecting nothing more. Just when I least expected it, I went around a curve and was awe-struck by a vast open expanse that lay before me. I’m nearly certain that my jaw dropped as I took in the unpredicted view while continuing down the mountain side and into the high plains. I could see more mountains in the distance, but I had not at all anticipated the straight flat road that lay hiding between two mountain ranges. To people from this part of the world, this may seem entirely normal, but I have never lived in the mountains, and I am learning so much!

the "vast open expanse" that awed me

A few other tidbits that I have learned since moving to Colorado Springs include:

Drink a lot of water when at higher elevations and allow for more trips to the restroom accordingly.
Sealed products such as yogurt cups and lotions build up pressure when moved to higher elevation, be careful when opening.
Hills + high elevation = running is really hard
Always have a jacket, umbrella and sunscreen accessible, don’t be surprised by drastic weather changes.
Baking at high altitude does require some modifications.
People who live in Colorado, for the most part, like it just as much as those who want to move here from the rest of the country — that explains why a very high percentage of the people who live here are not originally from here.

"Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil" Ephesians 5:15-16

bits and pieces

2011-03-07T22:49:00.006-06:00

There is a poem that used to hang in our hallway in Moscow. It wasn't until my last year of high school and continuing into college that the meaning of the words really sank in (after I had a few more "goodbyes" under my belt). The gist of the poem is that our lives are made up of bits and pieces of all the people that have crossed our paths. This poem and the many transitions I have experienced in life have shaped the way I think about goodbyes. First of all, I will confess: I love meeting people. This is one of my favorite things to do. I am constantly fascinated by the variety of stories and ideas and personalities that God has created. I love being challenged by conversations with people who hold very different views than my own, and I love encouraging and being encouraged and challenged by people with whom I share the same views. I love sharing, comparing and learning about experiences this world has witnessed. And more significantly, I love seeing how God puts people in and out of my life and then back in again. Those of you who have spent any time around me know that I don't generally walk up to strangers just for the sake of meeting new people —I'm not quite that fanatic on a daily basis— but rather, I have found that this is just something that happens as a part of life...especially when life takes me to a new place.

I had no idea how much my life would be enriched by the new friendships developed in my 15 weeks in Pennsylvania. The Lehigh Valley Church of Christ stayed true to their word that "you are only a visitor once". Within the first weeks of my arrival, I felt like I was among family. Isn't that what the church is intended to be! At work, I did not expect to mesh so well with my co-workers, but friendships were developed which I hope and believe will continue for years to come. In my parting, I cannot help but think about how each relationship has affected me as a person — I sincerely see my life as having been enriched. And that leaves me thankful, not sorrowful, as "goodbyes" are said.

As my last day in Bethlehem quickly approached, I tried to convey to my friends and co-workers the way I viewed "goodbyes". Goodbye is never terminal in my mind. When I leave a place, I assume that I will see it again some day...and frequently, this has happened. Similarly when I leave friends, I assume that our paths will cross again someday, and even if they don't, we can always stay in touch. On my journey to Pennsylvania from Texas I saw 9 friends, many of whom anyone else might have thought they would never see again. On my journey from Pennsylvania back to Texas, I saw at least 10 friends from different stages of life including a high school classmate. To me, this is just a testament to the reality that I have no idea who from my past will cross my path again in the future. That is a beautiful reality. I would rather hold on to the hope of seeing a friend again after we part ways, than dwell on the present parting.

If you are reading this, chances are good that our paths have crossed, and I am thankful for the bits and pieces of life that we have shared. If we have not met, I hope we do. I would love to hear your story.

There are many uncertainties that lie ahead. But with this reflection on relationships in my life, I am humbly reminded of God's faithfulness. He is faithful. He provides.

I remember the days of long ago; I meditate on all your works and consider what your hands have done.

I spread out my hands to you; I thirst for you like a parched land.

Let the morning bring me word of your UNFAILING LOVE, for I have put my trust in you. Show me the way I should go, for to you I entrust my life.

Teach me to do your will, for YOU ARE MY GOD; may your good Spirit lead me on level ground.

excerpts from Psalm 143

a cool glass of water

2011-02-09T23:24:00.002-06:00

Tired travelers quickly shuffled onto the bus to get out of the drizzle and into a warm comfortable seat for the last bus of the night. Having collected all of the tickets, the animated driver slid into his seat, closed the door and buckled his seatbelt in one motion with surprising speed for the time of night. “Oh, no they didn’t!” He said, quickly bouncing back up eyeing the rearview mirror. Through the opened door a young asian couple stood in the cold apologizing for their delay and plead with the driver to let them on. Hesitantly, he did so with a stern reprimand not too be late again. The driver took his seat again, with a sarcastic chuckle and a broad smile on his face, “See, that’s what I’m talking about! Those are the ones who would be running down the runway to catch the plane. You can’t run after a plane! I’m on a schedule too!” Shaking his head, we were on our way. With a glance at the clock, we were only 1 minute behind our departure time. I soon learned that this driver prides himself on being early. I dozed in and out of sleep as the bus made it’s way out of town and further east than I had driven. We arrived at the New York Port Authority 30 minutes early, much to our driver’s pride.

With the confidence that I was taught to walk with as a kid growing up in big city, I made my way out of the bus terminal and onto the streets of downtown New York City. After years of only imagining what the Big Apple must be like based on pictures and movies, I had finally come to see for myself. My first impression was the international presence. I heard at least 5 languages before exiting the bus terminal and it didn’t stop there. Once on the street, I was struck with the brightness and busyness for 10pm. I headed in a direction that seemed right in search of the flashing subway sign which I had been instructed to look for. A young woman approached me as we crossed a cross walk, “Excuse me, could you please point me in the direction of Grand Central Station?” (I guess I was walking confidently enough to fool her). My initial reaction was to look around (as if I could find it) and give her directions until I quickly realized that I was going to have to confess that I had no idea. We walked together for a block in search of our separate destinations. She spotted my subway sign and we parted ways.

Once underground, I felt a familiar peace, a comfort. A crowd had gathered to listen to a band play well-known tunes in the underpass. I stopped to listen for a moment then took guesses at which signs to follow to find my platform. While waiting for the train, I looked around me, soaking it all in. The people around me ranged in age, social status, nationality and race. We stood together waiting for the train, we filed together onto the the subway, no one made eye contact, but everyone shared the public space. Something felt so familiar and so right about this experience. Between blinks, my mind flashed back to years of riding the Moscow metro. I smiled, happy to be reliving the experience and enjoying a new one. I arrived in Central Harlem, and hung out at Starbucks until my friend and host, Jordan arrived to walk me to her apartment.

Manhattan from my favorite spot, on top of the Rockefeller


Central Park - another "shared public space"

My entire visit to NYC was refreshing and enjoyable. Refreshing in two ways: for one, exploring a new place or having a new adventure (especially one with an international element) is like quenching a thirst with a cool glass of water – I crave it. Also refreshing, because being in the city felt so normal and comfortable to me. The things that I loved about NYC are probably things that most people dislike: the crowds – I am more comfortable being surrounded by people; the public transportation – I’ve already touched on my affinity for public transit; the people – call it rudeness, I call it unveiled honesty; the diversity – half the time I wasn’t sure what country I was in and I loved it. Besides just enjoying the city, I so appreciated my conversations with Jordan, a friend from college, and my visit with a friend from middle school. It was a good reminder, as I draw quickly near to another time of transition, that “goodbyes” should never be treated as final. You never know when you will cross paths with unexpected friends and acquaintances, and what a joy it is to do so!

I returned to Bethlehem, fulfilled by my trip and ready to face my last two weeks here. I fully expect that, Lord willing, I will return to New York again someday.

China Town after the Lunar New Year parade. I just missed it by about 30 minutes.

i live in a hotel.

2010-12-03T19:19:00.000-06:00

Much prayer and seeking led me a the final decision - about a month ago - to put off the final decision of where I am going to settle for a while by choosing to pursue a 13 week travel position. As a result I have found myself in a nearly ideal job, in a lovely little part of the country in Eastern Pennsylvania. I was offered the job less than a week from finding out about the position and received confirmation from the Lord that this was the path I needed to follow in various forms. My drive from Dallas to Allentown, PA was truly a blessing because of all the precious friends along the way. And now, I find myself living a life, very different from any previous experiences I've had...

I live in a hotel for one. A quick glance at the name of my blog, and you realize, this is a completely appropriate housing choice for me. There are things I miss about having an apartment or home, the hotel has it's perks, don't get me wrong, continental breakfast and house keeping is hard to beat, but it would be nice to have a place to personalize and feel comfortable hosting guests. One thing that I am enjoying about my little studio suite, however, is realizing how little space I need to live comfortably.

This is the first place that I have come to, where I don't have either a support group or buddy traveling with me or awaiting my arrival. I quickly realized what it was that frightens so many people from traveling alone or to a new place. I am learning how hard it is to not have that support group and the friends that I have grown so accustomed to. I am now beginning to understand why most people are content to settle in one place for an extended length of time, and why not everyone has the urge to go and try something new on their own. I am also learning an important lesson here, and that is a new level of dependence on God. I now have a lot more free time, with no social agenda to keep up with after work. I am daily faced with the decision of who I want to be and how spending my free time will be a reflection of that choice. I am forced to recognize how much I have grown accustomed to relying on other people, spiritually, emotionally, physically. There is still much to learn, and 9 more weeks spent here to do so. What impression do I want to leave with my acquaintances here? What can I look back on with pride from this experience? What will I take away from this?

Several people asked me this week where I am going to next. Perhaps another travel position like this one, perhaps not...God cleared the way for this position at the last minute, I trust He will do the same for the next step. It seems I am feeding my nomadness, like a chronic addiction with this lifestyle...I haven't decided if that is such a bad thing yet.

transition

2010-09-30T19:45:00.000-05:00

Leaving Manali marked a significant event for me personally as it was the last stop before making my way back to the US. Besides having that in mind, leaving was made harder by the kids clinging to us and asking why we had to go. Without having a job or a house to get back to this was a hard question for me to respond to. Our last day in Manali was a rainy one, but once the clouds cleared we could see fresh snow atop the mountains. Our experience at DUF was one that I hope will stay with me for a long time and I pray that I will not easily forget the things I learned from the children and staff there.

Our short time in Delhi was spent shopping, seeing sights and getting our last taste of India before we went our separate ways. The Taj Mahal was every bit as magnificent as you would expect it to be, and was rightly chosen as one of the new 7 wonders of the world.

Upon an extremely early arrival to the airport, we were directed to a waiting area until our check-in counters were opened. Once inside the terminal, we discovered that the Delhi airport system had gone down. The check-in procedure was slightly delayed, but the airline personnel calmly proceeded to write out our boarding passes and luggage tags...it made me think this wasn’t the first time that has happened. Thankfully, we made it through with little difficulty and went our separate ways, Katherine to Russia and Ami and I to the USA. Ami and I had a long layover in Amsterdam, so naturally we left the airport to explore the city a bit. Amsterdam is beautiful and quiet at 7am. We enjoyed the lovely architecture, found Anne Frank’s house, and ate a delicious waffle and croissant.

I have been back in the US for two weeks now and my friends are still making me decide where to go out to eat upon the basis that I must have really missed American food options. Really it’s because many of my friends, like myself, are indecisive and would rather make someone else decide. I can’t blame them I’m the same way. Even as I consider my next big step: where to work and live? I would rather not have so many options. I would rather God just tell me very clearly, what to do and where to go. I know I’m not alone in this plea. In fact, I would venture to guess that almost anyone in a similar situation would feel the same way. My experience has taught me that there are literally a world of possibilities for me, which is part of what makes this decision process so difficult. On top of that, I have just returned from 3 fun months of adventure and living nomadically. The idea of settling down – even if for just a year – does not come easily. So, until a final decision is reached, I have resolved to enjoy every bit of my freedom, thanks to the generous people around me who give me a bed to sleep in and a place to call home while I live in the transition. God has blessed me far beyond my understanding.

story time

2010-09-10T14:12:00.000-05:00

The story started on the dangerous streets of Srinagar in Kashmir in the early 1970’s. The young mission team was dodging persecution at every corner with one near fatal miss after another, one threat after another; and directly following each threat and attack, there was always prayer. Prayer for protection and prayer of thanksgiving. Katherine and I sat in amazement, as the story continued to tell of the beginnings of the children’s home despite persecution and of God’s provision time and time again. When there was no food, food was provided, when there was no where to go, a door opened up, when there was no money, a donation was given. Auntie’s story of how the Dar-Ul-Fazl (DUF) Children’s Home began in Kashmir is a story of faith and God’s provision. Because of persecution in the volatile region of Kashmir, the home moved to Manali in the early 90‘s. Many of her stories reminded me of stories I heard long ago about George Muller. After an hour of hearing her “short version” of how the home was started, Katherine and I went to lunch honored to be in the presence of this woman of great faith. This is one of the most prayerful places I have ever been. In the mornings each child and staff member bow their heads in prayer as they file in and take their seat for the morning devotional. After the devotional, the staff stay back for a time of prayer. Before each meal, the staff always pray silently to themselves if we have not already prayed as a group. Every night, there is prayer time with the children during the evening devotional. Whenever we get in the car to go anywhere, the driver shuts off the engine, and Mawiteii (Auntie) leads a prayer for our journey before we go on our way. Although I was raised in a home where prayer was an integral part of our daily lives, it is refreshing and challenging to be in this place devoted to prayer. The impact is evident.

Every morning, we can see the snow capped mountains in the distance as we walk to morning devotion. Typically the children have breakfast followed by a morning assembly before school. These last two days have been a holiday, so we have had the joy of getting to just hang out and play all day (after morning devotion at 7, which occurs every day of the week, holiday or not). We play uno, pick-up-sticks, jenga, and a variety of other games. We’ve made bracelets, drawn with chalk and built towers out of the jenga blocks, but the favored activity among many of the girls is story time. Each evening they beg for stories. One of the older girls has been telling them the story of the Twilight trilogy, but before and after her story time, they come to us asking for stories. “Please, ma’am, tell us a story,” they plea. I have never thought of myself as a good storyteller. In fact I have often dubbed myself to be a poor storyteller who gives too many details, making the story too long (if you’re reading my blog, you know this too be true). But these girls don’t care, they listen intently to any story I’m willing to tell and I, as a result, am getting to improve upon my storytelling skills. We have all been reaching way back into our memories to come up with stories to tell the girls. I have told Robin Hood, Princess Bride, Peter Pan, Ever After, the Emperor's New Groove, and a variety of short stories... you might notice a trend, many of the stories come from movies, because those are the ones I can recall most easily. It is such a joy to see their eyes light up as a story begins and to hear their gasps whenever it gets intense and to see their smiles and laughs when the story is funny. Each evening, I find myself looking forward to story time, maybe even as much as my young audience does.

Beyond just enjoying time with the staff and children at DUF, we have had the opportunity to go into town and see other ministries that the church here is involved in. Today we went into Old Manali to see the old location for DUF and to visit one of Auntie’s friends, the president of the local women’s council. It was a neat experience to be in Lila’s beautiful home, which is hidden away in a maze of narrow streets (paths really) and old houses. She allowed us to try on the traditional dress here, called a pattu. It is much like a wool blanket pinned together and worn with a belt. It seems people in India enjoy dressing foreigners up in their traditional clothing. We also visited a coffee shop in old Manali that is run by a believer as a very active ministry in the community of hippie travelers. Every where we went with Auntie, she was received with much respect. It is evident that she and the home have a positive presence in the community.

A longer than anticipated journey

2010-09-06T09:21:00.000-05:00

I was not intending to blog about our journey to Manali, but I also was not anticipating the adventure that follows. The plan was for our the three of us, Katherine, Uma (our host) and myself to travel by bus to Manali, leaving Delhi at 6pm, and arriving around 9am. We boarded the bus with our dinner and prepared for a long and uneventful trip. The volvo bus was fairly comfortable with reclining chairs and foot rests, however, Katherine’s footrest did not work, and my seat reclined gradually at it’s own will. I found myself apologizing to the passengers behind me and setting it upright again every so often. As we headed north, Uma pointed out sights along the way: old Delhi, Ghandhi’s memorial, the Red Fort, slums, and off we went with darkness quickly setting in. The driver put on a Bollywood comedy which was funny, but somewhat hard to follow. Of course, it was a pirated copy so it froze up a couple of times and we never finished it. After our first rest stop, the three of us fell asleep, I with my chair fully reclined, not by choice. The next time I woke, the bus was pulled over to the side of the road and both drivers were working on something with the engine. I’m not sure what was wrong, but scenarios of us having to transfer to another bus began to run through my head. I was taking it all in between dozes and eventually we were moving again. After passing Chandigarh, the road began to wind up through hills, and we would occasionally wake to a turn taken too quickly or a sudden brake. In the early morning hours, Katherine and I woke to see one of our drivers beating up the driver of a truck that was parked in the road in front of us. Another driver ran out and a full on fist fight was taking place before our eyes (we were in the second row). Eventually the fighting stopped, but the yelling continued until the truck driver moved out of our way. We’re not exactly sure what happened to begin with, but we were relieved to be on our way again. We made an early morning rest stop for chai and toilets around 5:30 at which point we were already enjoying the cool, fresh mountain morning. We dozed a little more and then again, I woke to a stopped bus. This time we were behind a line of parked trucks. As it turns out there was a landslide up ahead that was completely blocking the road. We waited for about 2 hours before traffic started moving again, and very slowly at that. It was about another hour before we made it to the land slide 3 km down the road. At least it didn’t look like anyone was hurt and we were in a beautiful spot to be stranded.

The mountains here are so steep and green and there are rapids that cut through them. After we were finally on our way, at least 3 hours behind schedule, we still had a few traffic hang ups, but for the most part were moving. After each sign for Manali our anticipation for the journey’s end grew. We passed several apple orchards and apple markets, as it is a big industry here. Wool shawls are also a popular product. About 20 km outside of Manali the bus came to a jolting stop. There was a bus in front of us that had scraped against a minivan. As was expected, both drivers got out and began to fight...not argue, just fight. Thankfully, no one from our bus got out to join in, and after a short while we were on our way again. Only 20 km left, what more can happen in 20 km!? We’ve dodged cows on narrow mountain roads, made a few close passes with other trucks and busses, passed through a couple of cleared land slides, witnessed two fist fights, had car trouble, and my seat will not stay up! "Please, Lord, let us arrive there quickly and safely,” I prayed. We were all the more eager to arrive in Manali and convinced that after surviving the journey, God must surely want us here! Thank the Lord, we have arrived at last, 4 hours behind schedule. We have been welcomed in to this beautiful home and we can hear the children outside playing on the blacktop as they wait for dinner. We are surrounded by mountains, and we can see a waterfall from our window. Thank you, God for brining us here safely, please use us to serve You through serving the children here.

Heading north

2010-09-05T04:05:00.000-05:00

We've spent two refreshing nights in Delhi, doing laundry, shopping, packing and just relaxing. Tonight we leave on an overnight bus to Manali, a tourist spot in the Himalayan Mountains, where we will be at an orphanage for 8 days. There are pictures from our time up to this point on my facebook (http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2141131&id=71000791&l=63f89e2f1c) and on Katherine's blog: http://musingsofaglobetrotter.wordpress.com/

sugar and spice and everything nice

2010-09-01T13:21:00.000-05:00

My journey to India has been a humbling experience. This is a story of grace. To begin, I had not checked to see what the luggage allotments were before leaving, so at the check-in counter I was shocked to find out that not only was one of my bags over weight, but only one bag was allowed and the fee for additional baggage is $25/kg! In my close-mindedness I had just gone by the US international standards without thinking through the fact that I would be flying within Asia before returning to the US. After some tearful pleading, rearranging and elimination of a few items, I was able to carry on one of my intended check-ins and check the other. Once in Guangzhou for a change over I found myself humbled again. I tend to pride myself on airport navigation, not really because I have a special ability, but because airports in my experience tend to have very good signage. Either I was blinded by my frustration or Guangzhou truly is one of the poorest marked airports, but I had a particularly difficult time finding my way. To their credit, however they do have volunteers posted throughout the terminal. At the security gate I had, for the first time ever, an airline personnel tell me that I was exceeding the allotment for carry-ons. I could not deny it, but he generously let me through anyways. At the airport in Delhi, I once again was graciously let through security. So many flight regulations have been broken on this trip, but by the grace of God and helpful people that He put in my path I made it through with more than I needed. My short overnight in Delhi was an adventure including dropping my bag in storage, a motorized rickshaw ride, a visit to the 24hour tourist service office, and sleeping in the airport. Thanks be to God, I arrived in Anand to the welcome of my dear friend Katherine and the director of the girls home here, brother Mainesh.

Anand is a smaller town that lies at a major crossroads in Gujarat State. It is also home to the first dairy in Asia which remains a major supplier of dairy products for the country. This and the Hindu-dominant local government account for the vast number of cows that roam the streets freely. Throughout the day we are reminded to pray by the call to prayer from the nearby Mosque. This particular village is predominantly Muslim and Christian and neighborhoods are roughly divided according to religion. The Elwyn Parekh Children’s Home is a home for orphaned girls in a village just outside of Anand. Mainesh lives on the upper floor with his wife and two children, and they run the home of 10 girls with the help of one staff lady. They have been more than gracious hosts for Katherine and I since our arrival at the beginning of this week. The girls have been so delightful to be around. They keep a fairly regimented schedule each day, rising at 5:30 for homework, breakfast and morning devotional. After school they have some free time, do their chores and homework before dinner and evening devotional. Katherine and I have been asked to lead the evening devotionals while we are here which we hope is at least as much of a blessing to them as it is for us. The girls love to sing and dance and they are very talented. They love to laugh at our attempts at speaking Gujarati, but they still try to help us improve our pronunciation between their giggles. The girls call us didi, which means “elder sister” and a chorus of sweet voices always greet us with “good morning didi” or “good afternoon didi” or “good evening didi” when we enter the room. We taught them to play duck, duck, goose and red light, green light, and they have taught us some games as well. Their favorite game though, is musical chairs, played with a tambourine and everyone running around the chairs. They have also loved making bracelets with the thread that I brought for them. Every day there are bits of string scattered around the house that they have to sweep up.

Every evening we eat diner together on the floor in a big circle. The children sit in order of their age. We sing a song and someone prays before we eat. Two things that I love about that is country: everyone goes barefoot inside and you eat with your hands. Following our hosts’ examples we mix the rice with whatever meat or veg dish that is served and mash it together until you can form a good clump to put in your mouth. We also eat a lot of chapati (flat bread, almost like a wheat tortilla) which aid in the absence of utensils. Nearly every dish is spicy to some degree, but so far nothing has been too spicy for Katherine and I to eat. Thankfully we have had no stomach problems, but we’re taking our acidophilus just in case.

Today we made a visit to a nearby village where some of the girls are from. It was basic, but not impoverished. The families welcomed us graciously and served us chai. By the end of the day we had 6 cups of chai and several biscuits (cookies). We also ate lunch with a family in the village. The hosts do not eat until the guests have left so we ate while they served. It is a selfless custom, but seems odd to me when I think of a meal as something to be shared.

The pace of life here has been a nice change from my usual full schedule. We have had a good balance of time with the girls, time with our hosts and time to rest. Tomorrow is our last full day here before we head back to Delhi. Please pray for the girls home here, for the girls and for Mainesh and his family in the work they do. They are nearly certified to accept infants into their home as well, please pray for them as they expand their ministry, that God will continue to provide for them. In this area there is tension between the Hindu-dominant government and the Christians which makes their work difficult. Pray for peace. And please pray for Katherine and I as we say goodbye to these precious new friends and make our way back to Delhi on Friday.

Travels and what not

2010-08-18T05:16:00.000-05:00

I hope no one is holding their breath between my blog entries... A lot has happened in the last three weeks, let me see if I can sum it up for you:

Road trip: My parents and I rode down to Ningbo (south of Shanghai) with dear friends who just happen to be the couple that invited my parents to China in the first place. We spent a few days with them and enjoyed some neat sights along the way and great conversation. The highlight of our time with them was probably our Sunday morning gathering. The group in Ningbo is very small and seemed to be pretty discouraged without foreign workers there. We encouraged them to continue meeting and growing. We prayed for them and Dad is working on scheduling brothers from Beijing and Shanghai to visit and encourage them. [More pictures and info from this trip can be found on facebook]

Philippines: My heart smiles as I write about the fun and uplifting time we had in the Philippines. My parents and I first spent 4 days traveling around the island of Bohol and then we met up with 150+ brothers and sisters from all over Asia (and the world) for the 49th Asian Mission Forum. Words can’t quite express how precious this time was for me. I came to the forum uncertain why I was there, as I am not really a missionary in Asia, but after the first day I knew that was exactly where I needed to be and the lessons were exactly what I needed to hear. Besides the convicting lessons and uplifting worship, there was sweet fellowship. Filipinos are so much fun! I had a great time meeting new friends and being encouraged by the wonderful work that God is doing in Asia. There weren’t any huge revelations concerning my future plans (oh, how I wish there would be!), but I left knowing that God is in control and despite my planning and futile attempts to do His work by my own power, apart from Him, I can do nothing! If you aren’t already stalking me on facebook, you can follow this link to see some pics and read more about the trip:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2129707&id=71000791&l=ca73cfd201

The World: We returned to Shanghai from the Philippines and spent a full day at the World Expo there. I honestly had no idea what the World Expo was before my Dad told me that we were going to it this summer, but after being there, I highly recommend anyone who is able, to attend it sometime. The lines were ridiculously long to get into many of the pavilions, but we just enjoyed being there, appreciating the architecture and going into the pavilions with shorter lines. In the end we went to about 23 countries’ pavilions and spent, at the most, 15 minutes waiting in line at each one. Highlights included:

a delicious Balkan meal at the Bulgarian restaurant which served some of our favorite foods from Serbia
one of the best cups of coffee that I have ever had from Angola
freebies from Serbia because we spoke Serbian
shocking facts about the world from the UN pavilion
an excellent performance by a Canadian fiddler

In Shanghai we stayed with friends who have also played a significant role in my parents involvement with with Beijing church. It was good to catch up with them as well. [More photos here: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2130070&id=71000791&l=2286920391]

Back to work: Directly upon returning to Beijing I found myself very busy with teaching and making contacts. By the end of this week I will have met my goal of making enough money to pay for my ticket to China. Praise God! I have a few more classes scheduled for my last two weeks here, but my time is running short. I have had the honor of making a few orphanage visits this week. My dad put me in contact with Lily who directs the Children’s Hope orphanage just outside of Beijing. All of their children are special needs and when she understood what it was that I do, she was very excited for me to come visit. A few of us from the church made a visit last week to play with the children and offer what help we could. I found myself doing an informal training on communication skills for children with autism and mental disabilities. It worked out for us to set up a second visit where I did a more organized training for the teachers there. They are already doing a great work with the children, and were eager to learn how to better help their kids. I have so much admiration and respect for those who dedicate their lives to living with and caring for orphans. I also joined the church group last week for the regular visit to Grace Orphanage. The director informed us, that following my recommendation he got approval for the 4 cleft palate kids to have their repair surgery, the only problem, he’s asking us what to do next. My dad and I are asking around and doing what research we can in search of a next step for these kids. If any of you have contacts or information that you think might be useful, please pass it along. I have also visited Shepherd's Field and I am working with a sister in the church to set up a meeting with the Autism association here in Beijing. Everything seems to be coming together here in my last two weeks. Funny how that works!

My parents are in Moscow for a week and tomorrow night I will be taking the train to Shanghai to spend 3 days with some dear friends from Harding who have just moved there. Apparently my parents and I cannot sit still – I’m not sure how my brother does it! Philippines last week, China this week, India next week, Amsterdam next month, then to the US... I recently came to a realization about my lust for travel. As I reflect, I find myself just loving my life. With each comment of claimed envy from my friends, my pride grows and I love the attention. "How many comments will I have on my facebook album documenting my latest adventures" I wonder to myself with pride and anticipation as I wait for the page to load. I quickly–and genuinely–thank God for the amazing things He allows me to do, and then I go back to reveling in all the attention and reflecting on the cool things I’ve done and the many places I have been. I have fallen into that same trap that Peter warns about when he writes, “Dear friends, I urge you as aliens and strangers in the world, to abstain from sinful desires, which war against your soul...” (1 Peter 2:11) I have become quite settled and comfortable in my unsettled lifestyle. I am so attached to my nomadic life that it becomes my primary identity, my goal, it becomes the god of my life and I excuse it with claimed detachment –"not being a citizen of this world" is used as a cover when in reality, I find myself living just as much of a citizen’s life as the next guy. How blind and foolish I can be! Just because I am not settled on this earth doesn't mean that I am free from attachment to the world. I want to be among those of great faith who “admitted that they were aliens and strangers on earth...longing for a better country – a heavenly one...” (Heb. 11:13,16). I am truly thankful for the life that God has given me on this earth, but I need to be constantly reminded to release my pride and fix my eyes on the Author and Perfecter of my faith...(Heb 12:2).

train rides and road trips

2010-07-21T19:03:00.000-05:00

I have gotten my train travel fix in for the year. Those of you who have traveled with me know that I love train travel. And even though 25 hours is a long time to be on a train, I certainly enjoyed it more than I would I have a flight. But more than that, riding on a train with a group of brothers and sisters in China, is a whole different experience than just riding on a train. Two weeks ago, a group from the Beijing church made the trip to Chengdu in Sichuan to put on a little camp for some of the children who were injured during the 2008 earthquake. I had the honor of joining them and helping out. The train ride for one was a growing experience for myself. There is something special about being on a journey that creates a candid environment where people are honest and conversations are real. Our group was divided between two cars but both on the way to Sichuan and on the way back conversations with open Bibles and curious hearts were taking place. When we were packing, I asked my dad why we needed to take an entire little suitcase of Bibles, He said that we would likely give a few away on the train and the plan was that we would not return with any. So many were given away on the train that we had to buy some more when we got to Chengdu so that there were enough for the camp. On the ride home, as I walked through one of the cars where some of our group were, I passed three different compartments where ministry was happening. In two of them Bible discussions were taking place, in the third one of the brothers was teaching a group of kids some of the church songs, and they were loving it. On that same train ride one of the attendants from our car saw a Bible sitting out and asked whose it was. Later he returned to tell us the story of his conversion and how God was leading his life. We prayed together with him, and encouraged him in the work he had been given to do. The Lord’s presence could be felt on that train.
The camp itself was uplifting. Many of the kids there have only scars as reminders of the earthquake, but some of the ones that joined us for part of the camp, have much more serious injuries that have altered their way of life. No matter, all of them came with joyful spirits and big smiles. One activity that kept us amused throughout the week was trying to communicate. The girls enjoyed building on the little English that they knew and I tried very had to learn the Chinese that they were teaching me. Using it daily helped, and I learned a thing or two, but despite the language barrier, we communicated, and enjoyed one another’s company. One of the funniest interactions we had was about 5 minutes of trying to figure out the English word for “zero”. Ping Ping and HuNa used all of the English they could think of, the limited Chinese that they knew I understood, pointing, hand motions, and even writing, before I finally figured out what they were asking. So for anyone that is wondering the Chinese word for “zero” is “ling”.

It has been a week since we’ve been back from the camp and my schedule filled up very quickly. I did a short presentation on the accent modification course in a friend’s business English class which proved to be a profitable move. Thanks to him, I met with 6 students this week and I anticipate following up with them when I return from traveling. Today, we are off again for more gallivanting around the country, and out of the country. We are riding down to Nigbo with some friends of ours - a Chinese road trip, something I’ve never done. After spending a few days with them we will go to Shanghai and depart from there for the Philippines for the Asian Missions Forum. Our friends have told us that we need to be on the lookout for incorrectly translated signs on our drive, there are a lot and although he is fluent in English, he says the poor translations confuse him to the point that he’s not sure what a correct translation would be! There are so many hilariously translated signs, even new signs that have been put up in the last two years. For some reason they don’t take the time to have a native speaker double check...or maybe they do and the translator just has a good sense of humor. Either way, it provides a lot of entertainment.

Is it July already?

2010-07-01T08:31:00.000-05:00

I’m not sure when the last time was that I heard nothing but silence. As I sit alone in my parent’s small apartment on the 18th floor, I hear a constant murmur from the crowds below. Every evening families gather in the neighborhood center with their children and neighbors. There is also the constant honking from the traffic and then there are neighbors above, below and next door - who aren’t loud, but you can hear them. I don’t mind it, this is more like the environment that I was raised in. I don’t really notice it either except for times like this when the apartment is silent and all I hear is the noise from outside. My dad and I were having a discussion the other day on the importance of having times of silence. Having been in places where peaceful silence is attainable I can appreciate that, but for someone who has always lived in this environment it must be incredibly uncomfortable, as my dad had observed in some of his Chinese friends. I have seen it too in our busy, technology-driven environment --and even felt it myself-- where silence is uncomfortable and it is hard to sit still. But how valuable it is to sit in silence before the Lord, with nothing else pulling at your attention. That is always more of a challenge for me in times like this when I don’t have a routine.

I have been here for just over a week now. This is my 6th trip to China, so from the minute I got here, I felt pretty much at home with the sites, sounds and going everywhere by bike... except for one small factor. Every time I come to China, I regret not knowing Chinese. I can understand a little and say a few phrases; with these small skills I kid myself into thinking I know more than I do, but just when I start to feel proud of myself someone asks me a question and, “uhh...” I smile and shake my head, “...ting bu dong [I don’t understand]” I say shyly and I’m sure incorrectly. I’ve blown my cover! It is humbling, and maybe one of these days I will actually take the time to learn something. I am proud of my parents though, Dad is practically fluent and Mom continues to impress me. This week was the first time I have heard her pray in Chinese, which for those of you who are praying people, know that is a very personal thing and a hard thing to do in another language. I know many fluent speakers of English who still pray in their native language even if no one around understands.

As far as my work is going, I think I’ve done alright for one week. I gave two lectures/sample classes on foreign accent reduction and I felt that it went pretty well. One lecture lasted about and hour plus Q&A for a group of about 25 Motorola employees. Afterwards, the head of the Women’s Business Counsel said she would be interested in helping me advance my career in Beijing if I were staying longer. I was honored, and glad to know I always have that option if I’m ever in need of a job. At this point I only have one client signed up and we had our first session this week, but I expect a few more from the lectures. The research is going a little slower. I am continuing to make contact with orphanages and organizations and have some promising leads. The group that my parents work with go every Friday to an orphanage to play with the kids. Right now they have four children with cleft palate, one girl who is hearing impaired and one girl who hasn’t been diagnosed, but seems to have some developmental issues. They have several others, and not all of their children are special needs, but those are the ones who were brought to my attention last week. I enjoyed working with the cleft palate kids last week. I showed one of the older teenage girls there a few things she could continue to do with the kids throughout the week. They are all 3 or 4 years old and need to have the palate repair surgery, but funding and resources are limited. It is hard to help them with their speech when they have a hole in the roof of their mouth, but I will do what I can. We are going again tomorrow, and I have been in contact with some SLP’s from the States who have much more experience and have shared some great ideas with me for things I can do. I hope that I can actually make a difference for these kids as this is a visit I will be making almost every week.

On Saturday we are leaving for Chengdu in Sichuan province to put on a little camp for 9 kids and their families who were hit hard by the earthquake in 2008 and who the family here supports and encourages. I am looking forward to our 25 hour train ride and to being pushed out of my comfort zone as somehow I got put in charge of crafts and part of the daily English class...at least I will stay busy : ) One week has gone and I already feel like my time here might not be long enough for all that I was hoping to accomplish. Pray for me to use my time and resources effectively.

Back to Being a Nomad

2010-06-22T14:06:00.000-05:00

It has been just shy of a year since my last post on this blog. I had intended to keep posting even when my life does not look so nomadic, but of course, good intentions didn’t produce results. For those of you who are new to this blog, please take a minute to read the first post which gives insight to the name of this blog and perspective I write from (heart of a global nomad).

Many of you are updated on what is going on in my life right now, but for those of you who don’t know, allow me to give a quick summary. I finished my CFY (internship year) of working in the school system as a speech-language pathologist. This week I moved out of my house, and have distributed my belongings among friends (thank you to those who have generously offered their space). I am now en route to China, where I will be spending 2 months. I am not quite sure what awaits me there, but the plan is to try to either teach English or offer accent reduction courses to pay off my ticket while at the same time doing a little research for the contract company with whom I have been working this last year. The company hires speech, occupational and physical therapists and places them in schools, medical centers and other facilities nationwide. One of the primary reasons I chose to work for EBS Healthcare is because they are currently trying to branch out internationally. Because of my strong interest in international work and my experience abroad, some unique opportunities have fallen into my lap. I have had several exciting conversations with Dr. Kayser, who is heading up the international/multicultural branch. She has a great vision for EBS, and it is exciting to be a part of the initial planning and brainstorming for this new development. She herself is also a follower of Christ, which has taken our appreciation for one another to an even greater level. While I am in China, I will be networking and seeking opportunities for a team of therapists to do short-term work there. There are plenty of needs, it’s a matter of finding the right opportunity, and making it all happen. I have seen God at work in bringing me to this place, and I need to be reminded of that as the months ahead hold many intimidating unknowns. Sometimes I think I have bitten off a bit more than I can chew, and it’s probably true, but that’s okay, because I’m not the only one at work here.

While I am in China I am also looking forward to some good quality time with my parents...a.k.a., living with them, and getting to participate in the work they are a part of. I am not planning to return to work in the school system in the fall, so I have decided to extend my time abroad while I have the freedom and the means to do so. At the end of August I plan to meet up with a friend in India where she is working with several children’s homes with the non-profit organization, Orphan Outreach (http://www.orphanoutreach.org/).

I have been living a relatively “normal” settled life this last year, and found myself getting pretty comfortable, so it has been a little harder to return to my nomadic life, although I look forward to challenge and the growth that it always brings. I have no idea what experiences await me in Asia, I have no idea what doors will be opened and closed, I have no idea what my life will look like when I return. All I do know is that I am not alone, my life is not my own, and this world is not my home. I am excited to see what God does! Thanks for reading, stay tuned...

posted from Vancouver, awaiting flight CA992 to Beijing.

last adventures, safe return

2009-06-27T11:02:00.000-05:00

Our final days in Zambia were very different from the previous 4 weeks. After all the packing and goodbyes we left Namwianga and began our journey to Livingstone on Saturday morning. Upon arrival, we checked into our hotel, dropped our bags and headed to see the mighty Victoria Falls. We paid the entry fee, and made our way down a path to the first view point where we stood in awe. It is one thing to be told that Victoria Falls is the world’s largest and to see pictures, but it is quite another to stand there and behold it. From where we stood at one side, we could not see the full width of the mile-wide curtain of water pouring into the gorge because of the mist. After soaking it all in and snapping a few pictures, we walked along the gorge opposite the falls and into the mist. There were ponchos for rent, but I didn’t want to bother so I secured all my valuables in ziplock bags and decided to just go for it. Not long into the walk I discovered that the ponchos might not have been such a bad idea, since the mist from the world’s largest waterfalls is not just a light mist when you’re in it...it’s really more like a downpour. Needless to say, we were soaked by the Zambezi River. But in my opinion if you’re going to travel all the way to see Victoria Falls, you have to walk at least a little ways into the mist to get the full experience. Monday we were again amazed by the beauty and vastness of creation when we went on safari at Chobe National Park in Botswana. Our safari started by boat with great views of animals drinking, hippos sleeping, sunbathing crocs, and several varieties of birds. The coolest part of our morning in the boat was getting to watch 4 elephants cross the canal in front of us. Two of them stopped in the middle of the river to play for a little bit before moving on to the other shore. They were fascinating to watch! After a splendid lunch, we spent the rest of the afternoon in a truck chasing kudus, impalas, warthogs, giraffes, huge herds of elephants, and all sorts of beautiful and unique creatures. We left the park in awe of all the creativity and design that we had witnessed.

Our last two days were spent mostly shopping and enjoying beautiful sunset views on the Zambezi. Because of Victoria Falls and the wonderful gorges around the area, Livingstone has several intense outdoor activities to offer including sky diving, bungee jumping, rappelling, and rafting. Becca and I, seized by some insane drive for adventure, decided we should take advantage of the opportunities around us and following a friend’s recommendation we signed up for the half-day abseil package. The morning started with rappelling down a cliff, which we had both done so it was an easy start. Our next activity was called the “flying fox” which is a zipline across a gorge that you hook onto from your back so that you can fly across in a superman pose. This required us to run off the side of the cliff, but it wasn’t too terrifying because there was no free fall and you could feel the tightness of the harness before taking off. The last activity, however, was the gorge swing. For the gorge swing, you have to jump off a cliff and free fall for about 3.5 seconds until there’s no more slack in the rope and it catches you and swings you across in a pendulum motion. Why we were attracted to this activity is beyond me. We did the gorge swing once individually and once together, as if tempting fate once wasn’t crazy enough we had to go twice. Although it was a thrill and a lot of fun, I’m really just thankful to have survived without any injury (there is a video posted on my facebook if you want to get a better idea of how it worked).

The grand finale of our trip was a sunset river cruise on the African Queen. It was a lovely and peaceful way to end the trip while admiring wildlife on the river banks and witnessing a magnificent sunset. The next morning, we piled all of our luggage into a truck and took our last trip in Khaki Jackie to the airport. While waiting for our flight we recognized several of the families that had been on our river cruise the night before. The trip home took us nearly 48 hours with two flights over 10 hours long and an 8 hour layover in Johannesburg. We had some dramatic luggage issues along the way, but everything was resolved in the end and overall our trip went smoothly.
I am so thankful and honored to have been able to go on this trip. The lessons I have learned are invaluable to me personally and professionally. Based on the feedback we received from our hosts and from everything we witnessed I believe that the goals of our trip were accomplished during our time at Namwianga. Valuable data was gathered, speech and language gains were observed, caretakers were educated and most importantly individuals were encouraged in the Lord. With moving and a job search ahead of me, I pray that the business of life here will not deter me from the focus that motivated our work in Zambia. I pray and hope that I will not be content with my life unless I am serving the Lord with my time. I pray that I will never view my clients as items on a to do list, or my job as simply my source of income, but rather as an opportunity from God to share His LOVE. I ask that you hold me to this.

Thank you for your encouragement and prayers throughout my trip. Please continue to pray for the work at Namwianga, for the children at the Haven and for the workers there. God is doing great things among his people around the globe, I am honored to be a witness.

Photos: (a) Victoria Falls with mist rising from the gorge, (b) elephants playing in the canal at Chobe, (c) jumping off a cliff for the gorge swing, (d) sunset over the Zambezi, (e) Becca and I on our last day at the Haven with Modia and Luyando chitenged on our backs.

Finding joy in the pain

2009-06-18T01:18:00.000-05:00

Last week as I held Lydia in my arms, tears came to my eyes because a hard reality had struck: many of the children in Haven will not survive. With so many factors working against them, it is amazing that several of them have made it this far. Each of us knew that the longer we stayed here at Namwianga, the greater our chances of being present when a death occurs. But just knowing the facts can never prepare you enough for harsh reality. On Tuesday morning we learned that sweet baby Judah had passed away in his sleep. The cause is unknown, “sometimes this just happens,” we were told. Judah, was not supposed to be the one to go first, he was gaining weight, he was doing well. There are others whose health has been declining that we would have expected not to survive another week, but not baby Judah. It was hard to hear. It was hard to walk into the pink room and see his empty little bed...but it is good to know that he is free from the harsh world he was born into. Meagan comforted us, by saying that he received more love in the last 4 weeks from our group than he had received in his short life. We ate our lunch in silence that day, sickened by the pain that comes with an inexplicable loss. Although it was hard to accept, we needed to see the reality that the workers here face daily in order to truly appreciate the presence of this place. I cannot begin to imagine the pain they have felt with each loss. Judah means “praise” or “let God be praised” -- what more can we do, but just that. I rejoice knowing that each fatherless child gets to meet his Father, each child plagued by illness gets to find a life free of suffering, and each hungry child will never know hunger again. Judah was buried under a tree on a small plot of land that was recently cleared to be a cemetery for children whose families cannot take them; he is the first to buried there. Sweet Judah will be missed, but there are so many others that still need our love these last few days.

The children that do thrive and do well at the Haven are returned to their families if there is family and if they are wanted. Today we had the opportunity to visit a 3 year old girl, Lola, that has been back in the village with her aunt for the last two months. Meagan told us that Lola used to be one of the more talkative of the toddlers. She and Kathy, a 4-year old that lives at the toddler house, were great friends and ruled the house. Now, however, Lola does not talk whenever people from the Haven come to visit her. Perhaps she is just too confused by the changes she has been through. Her aunt reports that she does talk some at home, but Meagan has not heard a word out of her since she has been back in the village. She is healthy and doing very well otherwise. It was good to see her and the small hut that they live in. During our visit we were swarmed by all the neighborhood children who were delighted by the bubble gum that Meagan brought and by all the cameras that we had out and snapping.

Our visit to Lola was our second time into a village this week. On Sunday, Leonard, our beloved cook, invited us to join his family for lunch after we attended the small congregation out in the bush where he goes. The Kasibi Church of Christ has a small single room building for gathering with a larger thatch-roof pavilion with brick benches next to it for outdoor gatherings. We met under the pavilion. At the end of the service we were asked to sing some songs, which we did of course, but my favorite part was when everyone lined up afterwards, while singing, to shake hands. As we left the pavilion we walked down the line shaking each hand, there were about 100 there that morning. Leonard invited everyone to his nearby home where we ate a traditional meal and enjoyed some live music and dancing. Mostly the children danced in the middle while the rest of us stood around in circle tapping our feet and swaying. Occasionally some men or women would jump in and dance a little. The most impressive, however, was when a circle of women dancing in a line formed and one of the women was breast feeding her child, while she was dancing!

Our time here is quickly coming to an end. Tomorrow all of the hearing screenings will be completed. Friday we will all go to the Haven to spend our last day with the children. It will be a tearful goodbye I am certain. One of our group, Meredith, has already returned to the States to be in a wedding. Our group is not quite the same without all twelve.

Today we met with several of the aunties that care for the babies in Eleanor’s House to discuss feeding concerns and issues and share some information that they might find helpful. We felt like it was a productive meeting and hope that they will implement changes that will improve the quality of care for the babies.

On the same day that we received the devastating news about Judah, we also received encouraging news about Lydia. Her health has stabilized to the point that she will be able to come home from the hospital tomorrow! Apparently she had a strand of salmonella that she likely received from her mother in utero, which prevented her from digesting correctly. We are thrilled that we will see her again before we leave. Thank you for your prayers concerning her health. Please continue to pray for her. Pray for all those grieving the loss of sweet Judah. Pray for our group as we leave this precious place.

Photos: Meagan holding Lola and passing out sweets in the village, dancing after church (note the drum set), our group with Leonard and his family

for further reading...

2009-06-15T12:00:00.000-05:00

I should have posted this long ago, but the Harding students in our group are posting on another blog about this trip as well. There are lots of fun stories to read up on if you're sitting around looking for some fun light reading and want to know more about our trip.

http://www.hiz-path.blogspot.com/

Babbling and Smiles

2009-06-12T12:17:00.000-05:00

Every night before I lay my head down, I carefully inspect my pillow and sheets sweeping away any unwelcome visitors. This place is plagued with strange flat-backed brown bugs. I’m not sure what they are, but the first time I saw one I thought it was a small stink bug. We’ve grown fairly tolerant of them (a luxury the spiders are not given), allowing them free range of the walls, and window sills, but on one’s pillow is just a little close for comfort. Occasionally I hear or see one fall from our thatch roof ceiling. This is apparently instantaneous death for the poor overpopulated creatures, as there are dead ones lying around all over the place.

I have just had my first warm shower of the week. A shower house with 6 solar-heated showers sits behind our house. Typically, the best time to shower is about 4:30 or 5 after the water has been sitting all day in the sun, but if there is no sun, it doesn’t matter what time of day you take a shower, it’s not going to be warm. This has been an unusual week, Sunday night I had a discussion with someone about whether or not it ever rained during the dry season. Around here, most people would say no, it never does. But Monday, we were proven wrong. It has been cloudy and cool with a good bit of rain most of the week. Only yesterday did it start to clear up again. Today we are back to our warm beautiful weather, and our lovely warm showers (which are so nice to have after a day of being peed and spit up on my the kiddos).

During the time we have been here, we have seen progress in our kids. But for many of the toddlers it is hard to know whether the increase in language that we have witnessed is a result of our efforts or simply because they have warmed up to us. This week Meagan Hawley’s return from her 3-week trip back to the States gave us some indication of real progress. Meagan has been living here for 3 years, working with the kids in the Haven and making sure each of them is well cared for. We had heard about her, but I don’t think any of us quite realized how big of a role she plays here. Her first day back she was busily making her rounds among the Haven children. With one tied on her back with a chitenge, she checked out each child and focused on getting medication for those who needed it. The next day she was at the Haven with a doctor, looking at the children which she was particularly concerned about. Meagan proudly reported to us how surprised she was when some of the children used words that they never used before, or were speaking more than before. She was also quick to explain to the aunties how to prop the babies up with the special pillows we had made for their feedings. Apparently every doctor that has come through has told them that the children should not be feeding on their backs, but with so few hands to hold the babies, they could not come up with a realistic solution. Meagan’s arrival has come at a very good time because by this point we have already established ourselves in the work we are doing and progress is being seen. Now that she has seen what we are doing, she and others who work with the children can continue to carry it on as they are able. Right now she is with our struggling baby Lydia at a hospital in another town. Her dedication and love for these children is both impressive and admirable.

Among other exciting news this week: Andrew, one of the HIV positive kids at the Haven, about 2 years old, starting walking today! Yesterday, he took a step or two on his own, and was standing up unassisted; but today he took 7 whole steps all alone. We are so proud to have witnessed his progress. He is in a more progressed stage of AIDS and often looks tired and unwell. But he is one that has starting talking more since we’ve been here and today he walked. We are thrilled.

Choolwe is one of the little boys at the toddler house. He often has a very serious face and he does interact, but quietly. During our session on Thursday, he was laughing and singing along to the songs and participating...not really with real words, but with word-like babbling, which is a step in the right direction.

Sheri is a little girl at the toddler house who rarely smiles and rarely interacts during the sessions. There have only been two occasions in the last 3 weeks that any of us have seen her laugh or even smile. Once was during a peek-a-boo game earlier this week, and then yesterday while I was playing with her, she was laughing and responding verbally, a big step for our straight-faced Sheri. Some of these steps, that I’m reporting, may not sound like a lot. But these children, do not get much interaction. They are rarely read to nor are they ever engaged in conversation, most of them are behind according to our developmental standards. Each step of progress that we see lifts our spirits and reminds us why we are here.

Thursday, Becca and I again had the opportunity to go to the hospital with Rogers to encourage the patients and family members there. We were happy to see some of the patients looking better, though there were some, that look worse. It is a sad place, but they were all grateful for our prayers and words of encouragement. I pray that God used our short visit to encourage them to cry out to Him.

We have one more week at Namwianga, before we head to Livingstone for our last few days in Zambia. Please pray that our last week will be productive and that we will be able to encourage the workers here. Please pray for the health of these children, especially sweet little Lydia.

Photos: Brittany holding Andrew, Choolwe and me, Sheri

changes and progress

2009-06-06T06:00:00.000-05:00

This has been a week of many changes here at Namwianga. Mr. Phiri, the superintendent of the mission, has stayed very busy with all the happenings. First of all, there are the roads. When we arrived a little over two weeks ago, the roads on the mission were bumpy dirt and sand roads spotted with decent sized potholes. We joked that a trip in our Land Rover (which we have affectionately named “Khaki Jackie”) was not entirely successful unless someone’s head hit the roof. On our tour one of the first days, Roy Merritt pointed to some road equipment nearby and explained that a Chinese company is responsible for fixing the road, but the rest of the equipment was stuck in customs. Just a little over a week of bumping along the rough paths, the equipment arrived, much to our surprise. We were skeptical that any progress would happen while we were here, even with all the equipment in place, but we were wrong. After a day or two of workers standing around the machinery, seemingly discussing what to do, they began tearing up the road, wetting it down, and smoothing it over. The road between our house and the Haven is now so smooth that we can get up to 4th gear (which previously could only be wishful thinking). Driving over the road whilst it was being repaired, however, was quite an experience as Khaki Jackie proceeded through deep mud ruts occasionally sliding and sometimes at a steep angle. Beckie Weaver skillfully navigated us through keeping full control of the Rover despite the challenging conditions. They are still working on the road into town, and we are hoping it will be finished by the time we go in this afternoon.

Another change for the better that Namwianga has experienced this week is the beautifully painted walls at the Haven. The other group that came last week has put all of their time and energy into painting the new house at the Haven, named Marjorie’s House, and painting new murals in the other houses, Kelly’s House (toddlers) and Eleanor’s House (babies). They did a fabulous job; the murals brighten up all the houses. In Kelly’s house, an entire wall has Winnie the Pooh and all his friends. Some of the toddlers pointed to Tigger and said “monkey”. The painters were a little disappointed, but our group was so proud because monkey is one of the animals we have worked on in our activities with them. One of our pictures of a monkey is orange and a little tigger-esque, which means they are generalizing words, a sign that our intervention is making a difference.

Besides the progress we’ve seen with the toddlers speech, we are seeing progress with the feeding development of the infants. As mentioned previously, we were working on implementing some changes in the feeding system that will help decrease ear infections and other problems. When there aren’t visitors around to feed the babies, they are fed on their backs with the bottled propped next to their head. Your initial reaction may be troubled by this news, but there simply aren’t enough hands to hold each child during feeding. The women that care for the infants do well to keep each child fed, changed and cleaned as well as caring for the facility and their own needs. One realistic way we are addressing this issue is to have special pillows made that will allow the children to be fed propped up at an angle, decreasing reflux and infection. Mono, the lady next door to us that sews, made two pillows according to our direction and we tried them out yesterday. The aunties that take care of the children in the Haven seemed to understand what we’re trying to do and why and they appreciated the pillows. We’re going to have a few more made as well as spend some time encouraging the staff to hold the children during feedings when they can. Besides addressing the general feeding method, we have spent some time focusing in on specific children who have shown increased difficulty with feeding. One little girl is Lydia. She is about 3 month old, but is much too small for her age. Her skin hangs on her tiny bones and her little belly is swollen. She hasn’t been diagnosed with any specific infection, but she has not been gaining weight. Whenever our group goes to feed, we make sure that someone is feeding her in hopes she will gain some weight. This week we observed that she often looses some of her milk on the left side, so we give her extra support on that side and have informed her caretakers to prop her bottle on the right side during feedings. We check daily to see if they have been weighed in anticipation that all our little ones are gaining as they should be. We were told that a nurse comes to weigh once a week, but they were not weighed this week...perhaps because of the strike (read on for further explanation of that).

Another one we’ve given special attention to is Judah. His sweet little head is covered in the softest little fro. He is about 7 weeks old and looks like he was premature. He takes a long time to get through a bottle and would likely benefit from using a preemie nipple if we could get a hold of one (We’re trying to get some sent with the medical mission group that is coming just after us). When we first came we discovered that his breathing was often congested after feedings and since he was always on his back, it was hard for him to clear it. This week he has been strong enough to clear the congestion with a few strong coughs. This is a very good sign that he is gaining strength and control. We are hopeful that with special attention and modified feeding he will continue to improve.

The majority of our group are graduate students from Harding who get credit and practicum hours for this trip. Becca and I, however, have completed our graduate work and do not have to meet the same requirements as the rest of our group. This allows us the freedom to explore other areas of ministry and work. Every Thursday, a man from the Namwianga church named Rogers, takes a small group to the Kalomo Hospital in town to visit and encourage the patients and attending family members. This Thursday, Becca and I joined them. In a previous post I briefly described the Namwianga Medical Clinic. The hospital in town is in much poorer shape. A narrow hallway from outside led us into the hospital courtyard. Spotted with patches of grass and a tree or two, in the center of the small courtyard is a pile of broken beds, extra wheelchairs and scrap metal. Along the blue walls, windows and doors from the different wards open into the courtyard. We started in the maternity ward where about 7 beds were tightly fitted in a tiny room, a mother in each bed, some with their newborns. Laura gave some words of encouragement and one of the brothers led a prayer. We proceeded on to a room where a women named Juliet stayed with her mother. We’re not sure what her illness was, but she was very weak. Rogers gave some words of encouragement and Becca led a prayer for her. We went on to the women’s ward, the men’s ward and the pediatric room, taking turns sharing words of encouragement and praying for the patients in each room. One of the men in the hospital had been severely burned. Laura said she would give the nurses some ointment and pain medication to help. It made me wonder how much the facility could actually do for most of these people. They have very little resources to offer. Several of the beds were empty and we found out that is because there is currently a strike going on among several of the public services including medical professionals and teachers. Our work has been indirectly affected by the strike (as alluded to previously) and we are hoping that it will not last long.

Behind the hospital is a building that serves as temporary housing for family members who are caring for their ill, patients who are recently discharged, and patients waiting to be admitted. Every week, Rogers leads a devotional for all the people there. This week he asked us to lead it. We shared some words of encouragement and they sang some beautiful worship songs in Chitonga. It was a really neat experience and they were obviously encouraged by it. For those who are there several weeks in row, I’m certain Rogers’ visits are a highlight. We distributed vitamins to all the families before we left.

We are headed to town this afternoon for some shopping and perhaps a little birthday celebration for Meredith. A friend sent me this link which explains our increased power outages: http://www.iol.co.za/index.php?set_id=1&click_id=68&art_id=nw20090603175553459C431411 Hopefully, things will be back to normal soon.

Peace be with you!

Photos: (a) driving down the torn up road while it was being fixed, (b) our favorite room in Marjorie's House, (c) holding baby Judah, (d) the only ambulance that we saw outside the hospital, (e) gathering in the "mother's shelter" behind the hospital for the devotional, (f) our newly smoothed road at sunset

Now you have it, now you don't

2009-06-03T12:33:00.000-05:00

Our electricity has been in and out quite a bit in the last few days. Yesterday we went nearly 24 hours with only only having about 5 hours of electricity in the early morning. Out of the last 4 evenings, we have only had one with electricity. We’ve learned to always have our flashlights on us, and keep our plans flexible. With the power outage water supply also becomes a concern. The water that we use for showers and the bathrooms comes from a tank that is filled by an electric pump. If the electricity is out, the water cannot be replenished. So we’re trying to use our water sparingly, especially with the electricity being so capricious.

Saturday was a day off for us. After breakfast we drove into town to take care of some errands and then we drove to Choma, a town about 40 minutes away. Choma has a small museum which records the history and culture of the southern province. After viewing all the displays, we spent about the same amount of time in the gift shop as the museum itself, buying up the beautiful handiwork of local artisans. After a picnic lunch on the museum grounds, we went to the market looking for pillows and material to make some special pillows for the babies. Unfortunately we were unsuccessful, but we’re still working on it.

Sunday we again each had a child on our lap during the service. The church that we have been attending meets in the Johnson Auditorium which is shared by the high school and the college. The large auditorium is packed every week with students and faculty from both programs as well as a few members of the surrounding community. Tonight we learned that there are two other churches in the Namwianga area. The one in the Johnson auditorium is primarily done in English because it is made up of people from several different tribes. The other two churches worship in Chi-Tonga (the predominant language of this region).

We have nearly completed the hearing screenings at the basic school (1st through 9th grades). Besides the challenge of explaining how to push the button when you hear a beep for the audiometer, our most challenging part has been to pronounce some of the names. Several names, however, are quite common; and then there are the handful of names that are familiar words, but not familiar as names. Some of our favorites have been: Gift (a common name for both males and females), Medium, Bright, Cornhill, Scholastica, and Obvious.

Our hosts had a treat for us this evening. Rather than having dinner at the Hamby House (the house next door where we have been eating our meals), the three groups that are here now went out to a place called Jordan’s Rock for a cookout. Jordan’s Rock is a large black rock not far from the school. It has been a gathering place for Christians in the area for many, many years. Roy Merritt (who has lived and worked in Zambia all his life) told us that there is a small pool near the rock where the church would go for baptisms and they called it “The Jordan”, thus the rock became “Jordan’s Rock”. The gathering was fun and provided a peaceful evening where it didn’t matter if the electricity was out or not. Our three different groups gathered there along with Roy and Kathy Merritt (who run the Haven as well as house many of the kids in their own home, which is part of the Haven), several of their kids from the Haven, Don and Laura Oldenberg, Sheri (a teacher at the college), and several Zambian brothers. We were also joined by Claus and Christiana Muller, a German couple who have lived and worked in this area for 30 years. We talked about third culture kids and some of the struggles their kids have faced. He spoke of his kids being homesick, while still trying to pursue their own goals and visions in Germany and elsewhere. It was good to hear someone else’s story, but one I can resonant with despite so many cultural differences.

As I write this, the electricity has just come on after another candle/flashlight-lit evening. The internet has to be rebooted in the other house, so posting will have to wait until morning...assuming the electricity is on.

Photos: One of the many breathtaking sunsets, singing at children's church, holding babies during the service, Jordan's rock

2009-05-28T01:35:00.001-05:00

Day 6 at Namwianga. None of us expected that we would be eating as well as we have been here. Leonard, a Zambian brother, works as the cook for guests that come and stay here and he is a skilled chef. Every meal has been spectacular and we always finish with a delicious dessert. Today we had our first taste of an authentic Zambian meal. It consisted of shima, a cornmeal mush that is thick enough to eat like bread; chicken cooked in a delicious tomato-based sauce and a dish made from turnip greens. And the best part is that you’re supposed to eat it with your hands, which makes any meal better in my opinion.

The Namwianga Mission houses a medical clinic at the front of the property. People come from all around to receive free services and medication from the friendly staff. On Tuesdays, they have an ART clinic for HIV patients to come receive special care and medication. Laura, our host and a nurse here at the mission, suggested that we go see if we might be able to offer any services as swallowing disorders are not uncommon in HIV patients. So Tuesday morning, Becca and I were dropped off at the clinic. People were straggling in from all directions to get in line to be seen. Cars and trucks full of patients drove up periodically, unloading more people than you would expect to fit in a vehicle. We walked along the covered walkway until we found an open office where a nurse greeted us and called Laura to show us around. We walked around the inside courtyard stopping at each door to see the different rooms: labour and delivery, HIV clinic, soon-to-be inpatient ward, pharmacy, x-ray, and other offices. We were then passed off to observe patients being seen. We weren’t able to offer too much help but we did learn more about HIV and other diseases as we sat in on some of the general patients being seen as well. The doctor seeing the HIV patients was a Congolese man. Each patient came in, he asked them a list of questions (to which we added a question about swallowing), and, if eligible, he renewed their prescription. For some he listened to their breathing and looked in their mouths. All ages were seen, from infants to adults. HIV is much more common here than we like to think it is in the States. After seeing a good handful of patients, Becca and I left the clinic to join the rest of our group for lunch. We had hoped to be of more help, but we were grateful to the staff for allowing us to follow them around and learn about their patients. Our funniest incident at the clinic was when one of the doctors was plugging his phone in to charge. The plug was two-pronged and the outlets here are three-pronged. The doctor asked me to hand him a metel pair of scissors which he handed to Becca and asked her to stick in the third hole of the outlet. Apparently it works as some sort of release in order to plug a two-proged device into it, but Becca, knowing better than to stick metal objects into an outlet, respectfully refused and allowed him to do it himself. We both laughed about it afterwards realizing that we are raised with a few more precautions than the Zambians are taught.

Our afternoons are spent back at the Haven, feeding and playing with the babies and toddlers. They are so sweet and we are seeing some progress with the language development of the toddlers. They are beginning to use words that have been introduced in the morning lessons. It is so exiting to see progress!

One of our goals for this trip is to collect data and set the groundwork for future intervention, in the process we are giving the local school system useful information and education. Each morning half of the group goes to the Haven to work with the little ones and half of the group goes to the Namwianga school to do language and hearing screenings. Today Becca and I joined the group at the school. We performed hearing screenings on about 40 kids and language screenings on nearly 100. As a part of the hearing screenings, we also used an otoscope to look in their ears. Besides a lot of nasty earwax build up in most ears, we found a bug in one, a piece of straw in another and some unusual growths in others. If you know any ENTs that would like to come to Zambia, I’m sure there would be plenty of work here.
Tomorrow we will be joined by two other mission groups who are coming to serve in various ways. We have been spoiled by having the guest houses to ourselves, so we’re going to have to make some changes to share the space, but there is plenty of space. Thank you for your prayers. Please continue to pray for the work we are doing and that we will be a light and an encouragement to the workers at the orphanage and the schools.
Pictures from top to bottom: going through the line to get our Zambian meal, conducting a hearing screening at the school, children outside the school during a break.

2009-05-25T11:09:00.000-05:00

Our experiences are shaped by our responses. The other night the power went out. We were told it might be out until morning, but it ended up coming back on a few hours later. It was after dark and most of us were in the house of Mono, a lady next door that makes beautiful purses out of traditional fabrics. A couple of girls had their flashlights and led us back to the main house for a candlelit dinner. Later that night some of us decided to take advantage of the power outage to view the magnificent stars. After checking the area for snakes and spiders, we laid down on a small patch of grass to get the full effect of the speckled sky. It was spectacular! The sky looks different in the southern hemisphere, something about it seemed much closer than it typically does. We were awed to say the least and we were thankful for the power outage that allowed us to appreciate the stars in the full darkness of the night. Later that evening the lights came back on and we had some good laughs around a game of Uno.

As I write, two of my roommates are napping after our first really busy morning. On Saturday and Sunday we went to the Haven, the Namwianga orphanage, to meet the toddlers and babies and to play with them. There are currently three houses that are a part of the Haven and one more is nearly completed. Of the two where we have spent most of our time one is primarily for healthy toddlers and the other is primarily for the infants and the medically fragile children. At the toddler house, we were swarmed with little ones, arms reaching up for anyone to hold them. We played with them and held them and loved on them, something they don’t get near enough of, simply because there aren’t enough caretakers for the number of children. In the other house there are 4 rooms: two with HIV negative children, or children who have not yet been tested and two with HIV positive children. On Sunday afternoon we went to the infant house and played with the children and helped feed and hold the little ones.

Today (Monday) we spent the first part of the morning doing some language stimulation with the toddlers. We played games and sang songs and observed their communication levels. Many of them are doing very well considering all the factors they have going against them, but there are some who we’re concerned about. They all seemed to enjoy the extra attention and the songs...as did the caretakers. After spending a couple of hours with them, we went to the other house to feed and play with the infants and the medically fragile.

A little known area of speech pathology is the assessment and treatment of feeding and swallowing disorders. Because of the experience that Rebecca, my fellow UTD graduate, and I have gained in that specialty (which is more than any of our Harding coworkers), we have been dubbed “the feeding specialists” for the purposes of this trip. Most of our time has been focused on the feeding methods at the Haven and what improvements we might suggest as well as looking for individual disorders and how they can be treated. In preparation for Zambia, I took a course that allowed me to focus a project on feeding disorders in children who are HIV positive, which has been very helpful in knowing what to look for. Thus far, most of our time has been spent in observation and brainstorming. This week we are going to try to start collecting data on the infants and making suggestions to the staff. We’re hoping to implement some changes by the end of the week that will hopefully reduce the occurrence of chronic ear infections and respiratory problems that many of the children suffer from. Please pray that we will find a realistic and effective solution and pray for the health of these children, so many odds are working against them.

We worshiped with the large Namwianga Church of Christ on Sunday, both morning and evening services were packed and we were warmly welcomed. At the morning service several of the children from the Haven had been placed in our care and we passed them around during the service.

Currently, I smell like baby spit-up and my feet are covered in dust. I would love to take a shower right now, but we’re going back to the Haven this afternoon and water is too precious to shower twice.

Thank you for your prayers and interest in our work. All of our team are healthy and doing well.

The pictures are from the Haven, from top to bottom: bath time in the toddler house, singing with the toddlers, and a crawler in the infant house

Upon arrival

2009-05-22T06:53:00.001-05:00

Most of you have been directed to this site to read updates on our short time here in Zambia. It’s true, that is the primary reason for starting a blog at this time, but I hope it will be something I continue to use to share stories, experience, thoughts, lessons learned, and photos, whether traveling or not. I hope you enjoy what you read. I hope it makes you stop and think, evaluate, be thankful and pray. Prayer, after all, is something we could all do a little more of.

So...Zambia! As our South African Airways flight from Johannesburg descended upon Livingstone, the captain directed our attention to the mist rising from Victoria Falls in the distance. With Namibia directly behind us, Botswana and Zimbabwe on the right, and Zambia on the left, we navigated along the Zambezi River until we reached the small airport. After collecting all 24 checked bags (12 people) and 24 carry-on bags, we piled into two vehicles for the last leg of our journey to Namwianga. I have seen roads much worse than those we drove on to get here, but potholes are potholes, and sometimes there is no avoiding them. Needless to say, the ride was a bit bumpy at times, but, with help from the Chinese, Zambia is working to improve their roads. Along the way we passed several children on their way home from school, families doing laundry by a small pond, and small herds of cattle grazing along the road. At one point there was a beautiful cow in the road. He decided to stroll right in front of the car in front of us. Eventually he decided to walk on the grass instead of the road. Our driver, Donald, laughed and told us this story:

There was a cow, a goat and a dog going on the road. The cow paid his fare to use the road, the goat did not pay, and the dog paid, but he was not given his change. That is why the cow walks on the road like he owns it, because he has paid the fare. The goat, runs away from the road when cars pass, because he is in debt and in fear of being caught. And the dog chases after vehicles on the road because he wants his change back.

Upon arrival at the large campus of the Namwianga Mission, I was pleasantly surprised by the beautiful vegetation. Around all the buildings are large blooming poinsettias, orange trees, papaya trees, hibiscus, and several other flowering and fruit bearing plants. We went for a walk around campus this morning, and saw the school and college nearby. This afternoon two of our professors are meeting with the mission superintendent to set up a schedule for our work here. This morning we discussed the different work we plan to do with the infants and toddlers in the orphanage, the children in the schools, and perhaps some of the patients at the medical center. I am very excited about the opportunities that we have here and a little overwhelmed by the great need. I’m certain we will not be able to do everything we want to in our 6-week stay, but I am also confident that the work we will be able to accomplish will make a difference and be the start of something bigger.

The photo is of our group in front of the Namwianga school. Mrs. McLain sacrificed being in the photo to take the picture.

the heart of a global nomad

2009-05-21T14:44:00.000-05:00

Not long ago I was given the opportunity to give a guest lecture in a college class on intercultural communication. I was asked to talk about growing up inter-culturally as a third culture kid (TCK). In preparation I briefly looked over the chapter from the course textbook focused on culture shock and living across cultures. There was a short section on TCK’s. The term was defined and alternative names were given, one of which was global nomad. Global nomad. When I read it, I knew it was exactly how I saw myself. Those two words summed up the transient lifestyle that I know so well and the perspective that I have tried to explain to my more “settled” friends. A nomad is defined as a member of a people having no permanent abode, a person who does not stay long in one place, a wanderer. I am a global nomad. I can’t quite find that place to call “home”...at least for longer than a few years. I’d rather be going and doing. I’d rather be exploring and learning.

The more I thought about those two words, the more I identified, and the deeper the meaning of those two little words ran. Being a global nomad does not merely refer to the international lifestyle that I was born into and continue to maintain. Though I love that life, a global nomad is more than that. I am a global nomad because I am not of this world, this world is not my home. Are we not all wanderers to some extent, making our way through this life longing for that “permanent abode”? Throughout scripture, God’s people are referred to as aliens, set apart, only finding peace in having a home when in His Kingdom. Whether living in one place for the entirety of life or not, may we never become so comfortable in life that we forget we’re on a journey, this isn’t the home intended for us.

No matter how “settled” I become in life, I will always be a nomad at heart. I will always love the journey, and I will always be looking forward to home - this is my heart.