"Wander wherever your curiosity takes you..."

-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

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

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

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.

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

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

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.