Tuesday, January 5, 2010. Tabcom Guest House. J. City. Room 4
Thank you, my King for blessing me with 21 years of life!! This is the best birthday I could have asked for- the sunrise over this country, punctuated by sounds of the early morning- birds, roosters, trains int he distance. It reminds me in so many ways of our days in Mexico, long ago. Everyone knows it is my birthday, and Mr. G. (an older, believing national partner who is the president of the NGO we are working with and the director of our water project- he's wonderful!) says we will have an A style celebration. However, with all of my team mates except Dave and Sparky still sick from a wickedly uncomfortable food borne illness, it may be a pretty solemn day overall. A. says we are experiencing first hand what many people here experience on a daily basis from food and water borne illness, for there are millions who do not use good health practices such as filtering or boiling contaminated drinking water and thus experience a general sickness nearly constantly. Today we walked a mile or two to a primary school in the area, a distinctly Christian one, opened by the baptist church here.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
January 4, 2010- City of G, A's flat , 11 p.m.
We are here, and I practically feel that I'm home. Is it strange that I never feel more perfectly alive than when I'm away from my home country? My new American guy friend, whom I'll call "Sparky," knows my dear friend who is sharing the truth in P. right now with the company! It is so beautiful to be able to develop new relationships with strangers and to share the commonality of our experiences in the world and in the body.
This place...is more beautiful than I could have imagined. Beautiful, in that it is surrounded by the glories of the Himalayan mountain region and hard (yet still lovely) in its dusty squalor. Yesterday I had multiple minor emergencies and one large one, including that one of my measurements for my native dress was ten inches off in each of the 3 suits they have had tailored for me (clothing here in stores like Big Bazaar does not fit Western women very well!) So, after a long and stress fraught process, here I am sleeping in a stranger's room (J., who is A's roomate and absent from the apartment as she is visiting with her home fellowship while they are here) on the most comfortable bed I have rested on yet, or will rest on during this short journey. I feel frustraded by my total inability to drink everything in that I will lose when I leave here- without a camera, the capacity of my memory is so limited. I'll just have to strive to preserve it all in word and mind as my predecessors did. Tomorrow...I pray that there will never be an idle moment. That all hours ar eprupose feilled. That I am a reflection of all that He is and all that I must be...
Monday, January 4, 2010. Aboard a train to J.
My eyes are filled to the brim with tears of pure, untainted joy at the view before my eyes. I long with a nearly physical ache to be with these people! I want to be over here more than anything and I want it now. I will leave everything- home, family, comfort, affirmation, health, community, and prosperity to wake up like this, filled with an overwhelming sense of the King's purpose each day. I haven't belonged to myself for awhile now. Before me are vast fields of gold, punctuated by the rich jewel greens of treees of every imaginable variety, the only one of which I recognize being a palm tree. Their jagged fronds reach for the sky like arms lifted to heaven in praise. Mountains now obscured by the distance, the valley surrounds us. From my comfortable seat in a first class car, I see village after village creeping by then disappearing into groves of trees. Children roam everywhere, barefoot and unescorted, playing. Men and women carry vast loads on backs, heads, and occaisionally a small cart or bicycle. I cannot imagine the great, untappe power of God in these people- the spiritual gits and talents that are stifled in the poverty stricken and uneducated, but most importantly the spiritual power that is stifled in the lost!
(Why do you allow this Lord? They must know! I will do my utmost to show them if you will help me. Give me a gentle heart and a bold one, the bravest you'll make me, I'll be. But in all such power, may I always ralize that all things come from you, while my earth suit will soon return to dust. I will not forget You amidst the beauty that surrounds me. I will seek your face, but you must help me remember to do so. I know You will not fail...)
We are here, and I practically feel that I'm home. Is it strange that I never feel more perfectly alive than when I'm away from my home country? My new American guy friend, whom I'll call "Sparky," knows my dear friend who is sharing the truth in P. right now with the company! It is so beautiful to be able to develop new relationships with strangers and to share the commonality of our experiences in the world and in the body.
This place...is more beautiful than I could have imagined. Beautiful, in that it is surrounded by the glories of the Himalayan mountain region and hard (yet still lovely) in its dusty squalor. Yesterday I had multiple minor emergencies and one large one, including that one of my measurements for my native dress was ten inches off in each of the 3 suits they have had tailored for me (clothing here in stores like Big Bazaar does not fit Western women very well!) So, after a long and stress fraught process, here I am sleeping in a stranger's room (J., who is A's roomate and absent from the apartment as she is visiting with her home fellowship while they are here) on the most comfortable bed I have rested on yet, or will rest on during this short journey. I feel frustraded by my total inability to drink everything in that I will lose when I leave here- without a camera, the capacity of my memory is so limited. I'll just have to strive to preserve it all in word and mind as my predecessors did. Tomorrow...I pray that there will never be an idle moment. That all hours ar eprupose feilled. That I am a reflection of all that He is and all that I must be...
Monday, January 4, 2010. Aboard a train to J.
My eyes are filled to the brim with tears of pure, untainted joy at the view before my eyes. I long with a nearly physical ache to be with these people! I want to be over here more than anything and I want it now. I will leave everything- home, family, comfort, affirmation, health, community, and prosperity to wake up like this, filled with an overwhelming sense of the King's purpose each day. I haven't belonged to myself for awhile now. Before me are vast fields of gold, punctuated by the rich jewel greens of treees of every imaginable variety, the only one of which I recognize being a palm tree. Their jagged fronds reach for the sky like arms lifted to heaven in praise. Mountains now obscured by the distance, the valley surrounds us. From my comfortable seat in a first class car, I see village after village creeping by then disappearing into groves of trees. Children roam everywhere, barefoot and unescorted, playing. Men and women carry vast loads on backs, heads, and occaisionally a small cart or bicycle. I cannot imagine the great, untappe power of God in these people- the spiritual gits and talents that are stifled in the poverty stricken and uneducated, but most importantly the spiritual power that is stifled in the lost!
(Why do you allow this Lord? They must know! I will do my utmost to show them if you will help me. Give me a gentle heart and a bold one, the bravest you'll make me, I'll be. But in all such power, may I always ralize that all things come from you, while my earth suit will soon return to dust. I will not forget You amidst the beauty that surrounds me. I will seek your face, but you must help me remember to do so. I know You will not fail...)
January 1st, 2010. KLM Airlines. Somewhere over Europe. Over the Pond
We are, after a much needed ground rest, currently bound toward SE Asia! I can't imagine it yet, and I can't wait to be there after many months of prayers, tears, frustration, and careful preparation. Today's flight finds us warmed by ever present sunlight in an piercingly azure sky. A dappled blanket of fluffy clouds lies far below us, casting the view of the continent below in utter mystery. I am at the window near the from of economy class, right next to the wing. It appears that it will be a very relaxing day. As we travel, my mind wanders to those I love who are scattered across the globe on this decade breaker of a holiday. Winter break is sort of SBU's version of the ancient Jewish Diaspora. Exiled from our homeland, we travel to the places of our ancestry (home towns) and beyond. A few friends are safely arrived in SE Asia near where we will be. A few others are backpacking across a South Pacific island nation to youth hostels. Another friend, post graduation, is now well into a journey to share the truth with the people of the middle east. I pray that they will rise to meet the tasks and great adventures before them in this season, with the direction of our loving Father.
It is always a great and multifaceted struggle of submission to the King to travel for this work, but I would have life no other way. I do not live my life, or make decisions of this magnitude based on mere feeling. It is a careful combination of prayer, thought and much reasoning which leads me to such adventures. I am beyond blessed to have traveled and learned so much, and even if I never had, the Lord has still called me worthy and righteous. On this journey, and in the days beyond, I will strive to call on Him at every moment, as I never have. The issue is one of remembering in my conscious self to call on Him in every hour in spite of rampant distraction. I find that when I ask Him to make himself known to me, he never fails to do so.
....Now, it's time for airplane lunches that never fail to be interesting, but Abba has again provided and I'll be grateful no matter how it tastes.
*Later- Company Guest House. Port of arrival. January 2, 2o10. 2 a.m.
We have FINALLY arrived (in country at least, with a long way to go!) Words cannot begin to express how overjoyed we are. The guest house is a large, marble tiled and beautifully decorated affair with white walls, crown molding and American style restrooms. I've taken a small bed in the corner of the guest romm where I'll spend my next few hours before we leave at eight. Our flight here remianed relatively uneventful other than my demon posessed radio tuner, which switched stations by itself every second without stopping. We finally landed inthe midst of a low hanging, tepid haze that covered the city- a combination of moisture and jet fuel exhaust. As we prodded through the cloud of mist that had permeated a crowded airport (at 1 a.m. local time), we passed easily through security and retrieved our luggage. We exited in the midst of a mob of hundreds of people crammed into every available space, a combination of people waiting for friends and family, boarding flights, and drivers picking up passengers. It was so difficult not to be overwhelmed or to stare; I even became a bit dizzy, but I pressed on, heavy laden with a cart of our luggage. A few men and women begged in hallways and tunnels, some young and empty eyed, others stopped and ancient. What an opportunity to immediately begin prayer for God's people here. Being surrounded immediately by the spiritually and physically poverty stricken is heart rending, but I call on a God who saves and lifts lives from the pit of despair. One day this nation will know redemption and all peoples here will be represented in the kingdom to come. (may it be, Lord! and soon!) There are hundreds of unreached groups here. If God wants to lead me here again for further work, may he show me clearly, beginning with this journey. As we hurtled through late night traffic with our few personal items and a bit more for our friends here, I am reminded again of my blessings. Yet this nation is richly blessed in different ways than we are. They are a beautiful, kind, and proud people, gifted by God in thousands of ways, and I love them already. I wonder if I will grow as fond of our friends here as I did for my East Asian friends! It gets easier and yet more difficult to make friends and quickly leave them, like cutting pieces of my heart away and leaving them scattered over the earth. Tomorrow/today we leave early, on to G. in the Northeast and finally eventually to J., our primary place of short term work. May God be glorified in our every action and every word.
Charis.
Domestic Terminal. 1.3.09. 10:04 a.m.
(This morning, for the first time in many years, I wrote a poem in my head on the cab ride to the airport. This is my way of dealing with parts of life I do not understand.)
Progressivism- A poem paen to the people of Asia
Progress pushes purposefully past poverty,
People pensievely pursuing prosperity.
Preoccupying poverty parallels pretentious prosperity-
Passive pursuit poitless, prices paid present problems
Preventing precaution, propelling perversion
Pulchritudinous purity plateaued.
Progressivism...pointless?
This place inspires me to write and compose as I haven't in months. Our domestic journey to our northeast province is delayed by two hours or more due to the continuing hazy fog that chokes the city. Fortunately, my companions and I are never without entertainment in a place where careful people watching alone occupies the weary travel. The women here are fascinatingly beautiful, dark and lovely, clad in all manner of bright ethnic dress and modern, fashionable clothing. Perhaps it is due to the holiday, but they are a nicely dressed people almost without exception. I feel semi ridiculous in my hin t-shirt, jeans and flip flops. The above little poem is an interpretation of my brief view of this epic metropolis. it has always bothered me that such endless wealth and progressivism can run directly parallel to oppressive abject, oppressive poverty and never the two shall meet. The city is laden with obvious signs of the societal tenet of business of progress and business, yet beggars are without food and millions fight to survive. Lord, let me help these people one day! And raise up nationals to rescue them!
In his peace...
We are, after a much needed ground rest, currently bound toward SE Asia! I can't imagine it yet, and I can't wait to be there after many months of prayers, tears, frustration, and careful preparation. Today's flight finds us warmed by ever present sunlight in an piercingly azure sky. A dappled blanket of fluffy clouds lies far below us, casting the view of the continent below in utter mystery. I am at the window near the from of economy class, right next to the wing. It appears that it will be a very relaxing day. As we travel, my mind wanders to those I love who are scattered across the globe on this decade breaker of a holiday. Winter break is sort of SBU's version of the ancient Jewish Diaspora. Exiled from our homeland, we travel to the places of our ancestry (home towns) and beyond. A few friends are safely arrived in SE Asia near where we will be. A few others are backpacking across a South Pacific island nation to youth hostels. Another friend, post graduation, is now well into a journey to share the truth with the people of the middle east. I pray that they will rise to meet the tasks and great adventures before them in this season, with the direction of our loving Father.
It is always a great and multifaceted struggle of submission to the King to travel for this work, but I would have life no other way. I do not live my life, or make decisions of this magnitude based on mere feeling. It is a careful combination of prayer, thought and much reasoning which leads me to such adventures. I am beyond blessed to have traveled and learned so much, and even if I never had, the Lord has still called me worthy and righteous. On this journey, and in the days beyond, I will strive to call on Him at every moment, as I never have. The issue is one of remembering in my conscious self to call on Him in every hour in spite of rampant distraction. I find that when I ask Him to make himself known to me, he never fails to do so.
....Now, it's time for airplane lunches that never fail to be interesting, but Abba has again provided and I'll be grateful no matter how it tastes.
*Later- Company Guest House. Port of arrival. January 2, 2o10. 2 a.m.
We have FINALLY arrived (in country at least, with a long way to go!) Words cannot begin to express how overjoyed we are. The guest house is a large, marble tiled and beautifully decorated affair with white walls, crown molding and American style restrooms. I've taken a small bed in the corner of the guest romm where I'll spend my next few hours before we leave at eight. Our flight here remianed relatively uneventful other than my demon posessed radio tuner, which switched stations by itself every second without stopping. We finally landed inthe midst of a low hanging, tepid haze that covered the city- a combination of moisture and jet fuel exhaust. As we prodded through the cloud of mist that had permeated a crowded airport (at 1 a.m. local time), we passed easily through security and retrieved our luggage. We exited in the midst of a mob of hundreds of people crammed into every available space, a combination of people waiting for friends and family, boarding flights, and drivers picking up passengers. It was so difficult not to be overwhelmed or to stare; I even became a bit dizzy, but I pressed on, heavy laden with a cart of our luggage. A few men and women begged in hallways and tunnels, some young and empty eyed, others stopped and ancient. What an opportunity to immediately begin prayer for God's people here. Being surrounded immediately by the spiritually and physically poverty stricken is heart rending, but I call on a God who saves and lifts lives from the pit of despair. One day this nation will know redemption and all peoples here will be represented in the kingdom to come. (may it be, Lord! and soon!) There are hundreds of unreached groups here. If God wants to lead me here again for further work, may he show me clearly, beginning with this journey. As we hurtled through late night traffic with our few personal items and a bit more for our friends here, I am reminded again of my blessings. Yet this nation is richly blessed in different ways than we are. They are a beautiful, kind, and proud people, gifted by God in thousands of ways, and I love them already. I wonder if I will grow as fond of our friends here as I did for my East Asian friends! It gets easier and yet more difficult to make friends and quickly leave them, like cutting pieces of my heart away and leaving them scattered over the earth. Tomorrow/today we leave early, on to G. in the Northeast and finally eventually to J., our primary place of short term work. May God be glorified in our every action and every word.
Charis.
Domestic Terminal. 1.3.09. 10:04 a.m.
(This morning, for the first time in many years, I wrote a poem in my head on the cab ride to the airport. This is my way of dealing with parts of life I do not understand.)
Progressivism- A poem paen to the people of Asia
Progress pushes purposefully past poverty,
People pensievely pursuing prosperity.
Preoccupying poverty parallels pretentious prosperity-
Passive pursuit poitless, prices paid present problems
Preventing precaution, propelling perversion
Pulchritudinous purity plateaued.
Progressivism...pointless?
This place inspires me to write and compose as I haven't in months. Our domestic journey to our northeast province is delayed by two hours or more due to the continuing hazy fog that chokes the city. Fortunately, my companions and I are never without entertainment in a place where careful people watching alone occupies the weary travel. The women here are fascinatingly beautiful, dark and lovely, clad in all manner of bright ethnic dress and modern, fashionable clothing. Perhaps it is due to the holiday, but they are a nicely dressed people almost without exception. I feel semi ridiculous in my hin t-shirt, jeans and flip flops. The above little poem is an interpretation of my brief view of this epic metropolis. it has always bothered me that such endless wealth and progressivism can run directly parallel to oppressive abject, oppressive poverty and never the two shall meet. The city is laden with obvious signs of the societal tenet of business of progress and business, yet beggars are without food and millions fight to survive. Lord, let me help these people one day! And raise up nationals to rescue them!
In his peace...
Southeast Asian Adventures
To all who want to read... This January I went on a journey with a small group of friends from my university to Southeast Asia for three weeks. Eighteen thousand miles later, we are home again. It was my sixth trip abroad, and as usual, I have not returned unchanged. This is, in part, our story. Since I could not communicate with any of you while I was there, I have typed a few of my journal entries for your information. Names, specific places, and relevant details have all been altered for security reasons.
December 31st-January 1st 2010
Citizen M Hotel. Schipol. Amesterdam. The Netherlands
Today's highlights....
-Watching a splendid fireworks show from Rotterdam (an Amsterdam suburb) via flat screen HD in a comfy modern hotel room.
-Sleeping in said comfy (albeit tiny) room with a remote controlled 'mood pad' that changes everything from the television to the the room's heat to the lighting.
-Showering under changing rainbow mood lighting. You have to see it to believe it, it's beautiful.
-Making new friends in the lobby of our modern and quirky hotel
-Franz from Frankfurt- slightly wasted, but so polite and kind, and his friend in the purple
Beatles shirt who did not enjoy the margarita with salt on the rim.
-TeeTee from Bangkok, a super sweet little Thai woman who is on the hotel staff
-Favorite person of the day- Mel- a hotel staffer and bartender from the midwest, who kindly gave my mint leaf tea with honey for free and a very disgusting bar of rum raisin flavored fudge.
-Getting Roman candles shot upside down directly at us in a crowded city square
-Riding the train into the city (and losing my ticket when it finally got checked, oops!)
-Pizza, calzones, fries , Coke, and hot chocolate at the Hotel Dorian Restaurant in Dam square
-Word of the day: pulchritudinous (adj.)- beautiful
-To See in the future- The Van Gogh Institute
Travel Days 1-2. January 1, 2010
Citizen M. Schipol. Amsterdam
What a gorgeously woven tapestry of diversity Western Europe is! From what I have gathered in my twelve hour stay, it is both a familiar culture (in that it is Western) and a totally alien one (in that pot scented air lingers everyone amidst the crush of people and sexual immorality runs as rampant and public as it did in ancient Corinth. For instance, I watched an immaculately ressed woman (man) in white go go boots, a tan trench coat and a beautifully groomed blonde wig styled into a 60's era beehive prance down an avenue mere hours ago. We never did see the witching hour really begin because we took an early train back to the hotel after 8 p.m. (because the cold, lack of ways in which to occupy our time, and fireworks being shot upside down in our vicinity became a bit too much for a group of six jet lagged people).
The previous leg of the journey was nearly eventless. I did not, as I had always romantically planned, walk into Memphis International Airport belting my own reinterpreted version of Marc Cohn's 'Walking in Memphis.' My shoes for the entire trip and miles of daily walking- a sensible tan pair or Naturalizers, turned out to pinch my feet so badly that I could not stop myself from exclaiming in pain. Blisters resulted, for I had conveniently forgotten that my feet swell when I travel by air. Thus, a pair of flip flops complimented by a pair of miraculously stretchable white athletic socks were my personal fashion statement of the evening. Though I am aquainted with only a few in this vast metro, I was a little sheepish to look like a silly tourist among the cosmopolitian (albeit cookie cutter) women of Europe. Their blonde, perfect faces slunk by me in designer clothing until they became about as remarkable to look at as the stones on the street. I pray that I will reserve any further stereotypical, L.O.A. type judgements, for as I judge the world, so they'll respond defensively in anger and judge me. Neither am I in any way fit to judge.
May God give my team mates and I the supernatural ability to pour our hearts and souls into every day, every relationship and every task we undertake.
Sawadee!
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