Hidden Memories

As I packed my goal of one to three boxes a day, I've come across things I knew I had, but forgotten about. Memories flooded back from the last few years, hidden or missed over this time.

I remember buying these 100 Chinese bike-tube patches for less than $2. I've only used 3 so far. I've biked many-a miles from my old apartment (>3000). My bike could tell stories, some of the ending with him getting extra care in our front little grass-patch, as I bandaged him up. But sure as a marine, he leaves no man (or woman) left behind: He's still my trusty transportation! 

I remember when I brought home the first orphan-flowers. Being thrown out at work, I brought them home 2.5 years ago amid snickers from coworkers. Their new home gave them soup-can or plastic-cup pots to stretch their roots into. Later they acquired real "clothes" of terra-cotta pots. Now, they bask in my new window, among other orphan plants, waiting for summer to blossom.

I remember when a Starbucks customer gave me a bag over the counter, saying the scarf was just perfect for me. What that meant, I had no idea until I opened it up on my break. Lo and behold! I pulled it out. And kept pulling it out. And Kept pulling it out! 11 feet later... yes eleven feet later, I found the other end with matching gloves and a hat!



And this scarf has come in hand this winter., I've been toasty warm in these winter years -okay months- of below freezing and negative temperatures with its long, long, long arms encircling me up to 4 times!

I remember when I rolled and stuffed posters into this tube before going on the bike trip to France. I was so certain that after I returned from France, I would be starting a new life teaching in Haiti. I wanted at least a few wall-memories to take with me along with some of my art. And here they are, I never did unroll them after that plan fell through, which turned out for the betterment of all. The pain has softened.



I remember countless nights in the dorm room with Heidi, Andrea, Kara, Allie, and so many others, drinking hot chocolate, tea, or just hot water from this little hot-pot. We learned and gained friends and sisters, character polishing and refining, tears and hugs: precious moments that are graven into my heart and life. And of course, keeping with tradition, our mood or need in that moment decided for which mug of meaning was used (or was offered by the others!). Life is fun and joy-filled, even with broken areas of us. Beauty and encouragement from multiple avenues. Chaos and simplicity, contrasts and strengths, and character amidst stress.




Beautiful blessings pop out everywhere when I take a moment look around. What blessings and memories has he brought to you?

Moving Musings

The Abbey. The Downtown Abbey of Chicago. Close to work, friends, and Lake Michigan. L tracks right next to us, ambulances at all hours of the night, and people everywhere. Flower baskets, Christmas lights, and anticipation in the air. The Abbey. A place of refuge for a college graduate. A haven for Child Care Worker turned barista. Rest for a tired soul. Home.

About three weeks ago, the situation became clear. I wasn't planning on it. I did not want to do it. But it was needed. I chose to move.

That last word slowed life to a halt. I was choosing to leave the home I knew, the location I loved. Reasons for moving were real and pressing.

But I don't like moving, even though I can pack a box with items to be moved so that there is no packing material needed, no corner left unused, and therefore using as few boxes as possible. Even though I know the boxes, how to label each and write it down to eliminate digging through 10 boxes for the 1 item I need. Even though I can stack odd-shaped boxes without wasting an inch of floor/car/moving space.

I have moved 11 times. This is #12. Moving is "old-hat." Outwardly excited, this time I get to set up my own apartment as I want. I get to be closer to my Chicago family. I get to establish new routines, find new grocery stores, and new favorite haunts.

Inwardly I dread moving and transitions. Apartment hunting and signing. Packing, actual moving, and the unpacking. Energy to begin new relationships. Strength to say goodbye well. Changing close relationships. Losing others. Being uncomfortable in new situations. Learning new social and neighborhood norms. I should think I'd have these skills down by now! I may have them honed, but I don't want to use them. Can I be normal for once and not have change in my life?

Or is change normal?

God never said life would have no changes. As He redeemed Israel from Egypt, He changed almost every aspect of life to reflect Himself in every-day activities. When Jesus came, He changed the world completely. Instead of just activities, He changed hearts and He created a new lifestyle. To be an ambassador of Him is to be changed continuously: being molded into a being more reflective of Him than before.

Change in inevitable.

And so is His Presence.

He is present in every change. Nothing happens without Him being there, allowing it, since He is "with [us], even to the end of the age." And if He is there, He is my strength to stand under the stressors. He is the comfort when my pain emerges. He is wisdom when my relationships change. He is understanding when new norms are confusing for me.

He shows His power if and when we look to Him for the strength. He shows His love when we ask for comfort. He shows His omniscience when we trust His wisdom.

"Sing joyfully to the LORD, you righteous; 

it is fitting for the upright to praise him.

For the word of the LORD is right and true;

He is faithful in all He does.

The LORD loves righteousness and justice;

the earth is full of His unfailing love.

"The plans of the LORD stand firm forever,

The purposes of his heart through all generations.

"We wait in hope for the LORD;

He is our help and our shield.

In Him our heartrs rejoice,

for we trust in His holy name.

"May your unfailing love rest upon us, O LORD

Even as we put our hope in You."

(Excerpts of Psalm 33)

Things I Wanted to Hear

Remember back to different locations, moves, events, and people, I'm flooded by different  thoughts and emotions and needs. This is about my story, and perhaps anyone else out there who has played hopscotch with countries and cultures (or been close, good onlookers, of those who played).

I have had much support and encouragement over the years. And I also find there are some things that would have been really encouraging to hear if they were not used as stand-alone phrases.  It is  encouraging to hear words of encouragement that connect to a reason and reality. Otherwise it is easy for meaningful words to sound hollow.

It's ok to be sad. Grieving a loss does not mean there is no excitement for the future. Driving onto the on-ramp of I-80 as we left Omaha to head back to Eleuthera, I left friends and memories; places and people that changed me. Hearing the news that we wouldn't be moving to Germany, but rather Nebraska, hit me hard. I would actually have to live like a "normal" American... what does that look like?!

You are normal for what you have gone through. Not just the "you are normal" part, but the end where instead of judging to the standard of "normal" -whatever that is- it is linked to an experience. Yes, I may not have acted, thought, or in some places even looked like those around me. Living in an American family in a different country, but playing and being with Bahamians in and after school, traveling and talking with Americans mostly about my parents' job (or what I did or didn't know of American culture) set me up to be exactly who I was. Judging from what my life experiences had taught me, I was normal. It would have been abnormal for me to have acted and thought just like my American or Bahamian counterparts.

It's ok to say "no" and/or not like something. Not helping someone with their homework did not make my decision racial. Not doing what a sibling wanted did not mean I didn't love them. Not liking cassava didn't mean I didn't appreciate old-time culture. Not wanting to be around certain people after they attacked my character was okay. Treating them with respect is still a must. But "negative" emotions are not "bad." They are real and impact life.

It's okay for you to hold yourself with value and not allow others to pummel you. Playing on a new volleyball team at a new school, only to hear teammates and coaches talking behind my back with ridicule and favoritism was not okay. There was no need for me to put on the "nice facade" of silence/ignorance and nice-ness demanded by the 'Christian culture' to "keep the unity." Ever heard "the least said is the quickest mended?" It may be a quick fix and "serve the peace", but it doesn't heal -it can hide authenticity, and deteriorate trust.

There is pain, and it is okay, just as there is joy and it is okay too. Squashing or ignoring one, will result in the other being distorted. Like sunsets while camping at a beach: The same clouds can be breathtakingly beautiful, and immediately filled with doom when they become a wall of rain and storm clouds. If moving, or saying a long-term goodbye, or grieving, hearing the words, "just think about what's coming next" or "Lets think about the positive" does not eliminate. Rather it ignores a part of the present and gives the impression that the present isn't important, and that whatever is hard, sad, or hurtful isn't okay to acknowledge! This stinks!

It is okay to "do" nothing if that is what your soul needs to simply "be" and "be whole." I'm not talking about laziness. Traveling and speaking at conferences and churches, playing on sports teams, completing school work, having guests over or being a guest, "having" to play with neighbors, Bible clubs, more traveling, more activities, more things to do. Activities are part of living. I needed time to be with myself and others as people, not be a pon or fixture in the game of life.

Chicago Comforts

In the last three months, I've begun to cherish some things in Chicago. 

Why now? Well, as the old cliche goes, 

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

I cherish nature. Walking through Humbolt Park, Lincoln Park, even down a city street flooded with fall mums and corn-stalks brighten my day. I can look up through the clear, crisp blue sky and relax. God is still working out beauty in the city through plants.

I cherish tea (and warmth!). During the chilly walk home, I look forward to making a cup of spearmint tea, bundling up in my chair, and reading. Yes, it will be a text book I hold in my hands, but, hey, I am going to enjoy my tea! -It sure makes the text-book much more appealing!

I cherish music. I don't know how many days I come home, and just have to sing at least one favorite hymns, just for the joy of singing! Five minutes of music, lifts my spirits. God is beyond words, and these songs just point towards Him.

I cherish walks. The simple, one mile to work, weaving around people on the sidewalks, brings me joy. I look forward to those 20 minutes of inner solitude.

I cherish relationships. Time may be limited to Sunday's, but these moments, sometimes hours with friends, lift my soul for the next few days. By Thursday night, I am looking forward to Sunday again. Singing, talking, laughing and sharing with friends. Friends of all ages. Friends of months, and friends of years.

I cherish relationships of longevity. Going to church and being with and talking with people who I have known for 2-4 years is very encouraging. Some of these are the people who have laughed with me over skits, teared up over changes, listened and encouraged during decisions, yelled during the Bears games, biked miles of bike paths, cooked different ethnic foods, and simply are there beside me in life. 

Thank you Lord for these comforts in Chicago, these little things to meet needs. You hear, You see, and You know, and now You are providing in Your own unique way.  You are Sufficient.

Back to School Rafting

During these past 2 years of finding stability after college, I have been learning and practicing how to steer the boat of life more gently and understand which rocks and rapids I can and cannot handle.



I have been looking ahead at the distant white foam and spray of graduate school. Now it is here, all around me. Rocks. Spray. Scenery. The boat. Other rafters. Water.

The river raft of life has entered another stretch of white water. As different waves toss different issues of life up into the air, what is on the inside of my boat will come out. For a life as a counselor, do I want to keep it? or change it? or let it get out of my life? What new tools and equipment do I need for this specific river and the river branch(es) that I individually will be one after school? Which style of steering will I adapt to? Who will be with me in the boat now, helping me steer? push ahead? bail water?




Each class has its boulders, creating different water currents, spray patterns, and hitting different sides of the boat. My calendar is filled, marking each, preparing for each, and with God's help, passing each safely.

Along with boulders is my boat itself, carrying me through this, allowing me to go through this channel of white water. Working at Lawry's The Prime Rib as host and server with a few hours at Starbucks each week are giving the air needed to keep me afloat. Here is a tricky part I am beginning to negotiate: when too full of air, the raft may pop; when too low on air, the raft (and I) may sink. I pray for wisdom and guidance in discerning this balance.

With raft and rocks to think about, I often get caught up in the logistics. Yet I pray that I never lose sight of the scenery, the little things that make up the time and place He has placed me. These are gifts to be enjoyed, not ignored.

There are other boats around me. I am not alone. Some near, some far. I see the different colors of each. Some have traveled beside me at church. Others survived the rapids of Moody with me and then lost contact. Now they are showing up as I enter this stretch. Many are new boats, new people I haven't met that God has brought into my life for these months ahead. I pray and look to see how we will influence each other, giving and receiving help, encouraging and pointing out leaks. May we strengthen each other.



And the best part of the trip, the essential that is easily forgotten, the crucial aspect to rafting, and the only way for my boat to enter, stay afloat, interact with others, and thrive is still the uncontrollable part of rafting: The Water itself. The water that I must trust. The water that sometimes seems calm. Sometimes rough. Sometimes angry. Sometimes gentle. Sometimes refreshing. Sometimes annoying. Sometimes painful. Sometimes seemily far away. Sometimes drenching. Sometimes pushing. Sometimes pulling. Sometimes easy. Sometimes difficult. Sometimes pure strength. Sometimes calm. Without this water, my boat would be nowhere.

Without the Lord, I would be nowhere.

Summer Sun 2013

Summer has flown by. And according to my online persona of facebook or this blog, my summer has been quite monotonous, with little happening. Thankfully, my lack of online presence indicates that reality is very much full and changing. Here are highlights that stand out to me.

• I fully commit to camping with a hammock. My family camped for 3 nights on a small, sparsely inhabited island in the Exuma Cays. From spearing our dinner 1/2 hour before cooking it, snorkeling in a land and sea park, and locating old natural cisterns, the best part was climbing a tree, wiggling into a hammock, and being gently rocked to sleep without any tree roots, stones, or crabs burrowing underneath!

  

  One to sit during day, One to sleep in at night

  

  Exuma Land and Sea Park

  

  Dinner -at least for some night in the future

  
  
  
  
• I do believe in sea-horses! I DO believe in sea-horses! I do, I Do, I DO! Though growing up on an island and knowing many of the natural attractions, we had missed this one. An old friend directed us to a specific pond that was home to seahorses and octopus. The feeling of dry yet sticky, smooth, yet strong skin of octopus on my hands and arms will not be forgotten quickly. Neither the sight of an itty-bitty 2 inch sea-horse, holding onto seaweed with its tail on the pond floor, blending in perfectly with the surroundings. What a gift to behold God's wonderfully and quirkily created animals. Added bonuses: watching pea-sized lizard eggs hatch and a Cicada bug molt!
  
  
  
  
  
  

  

  Hatched lizards with eggs in a quart-sized ziplock

  

  Cicada

  

  Cicada bug molting

  
  
  
  
• I am a student of Trinity  Evangelical Seminary, as I begin the road to licensure as a counselor. I dream of working among children and young adults who have faced or are facing multiple transitions in their lives, specifically cultural moves between cities, regions, and countries. Lord willing, my classroom studies will be done in 2-3 years, and after internships and enough hours of experience, I will be a licensed counselor. 
  

• I continue to be a Starbucks barista several days a week, and have taken a second job at Lawry's The Prime Rib as a host and server. God, my Provider carefully weaved this position/schedule, and has grown my faith in many ways as He has smoothed over detail after detail in multiple areas. 

If God provides for 2 feet long Iguanas, only found on 2 tiny islands,
Then I and the world, have nothing to fear.

Perfect Love Casts Out Fear

One Year Ago

One year ago last night, my high hopes of  teaching art, PE, and possibly coaching, were utterly and unexpectedly destroyed. I had five precious minutes to process alone, before joining the others to organize, distribute and pack for our month long bike trip, going to bed after 2am.

One year ago this morning I woke up at 4:30 am and at 6am, took off biking with Natalie and Nathaniel. Everything that we'd need for the next 32 days was on our bikes: clothes, camping gear, camp-cooking equipment and dishes, food (which we replenished along the way), first aid, bike repair tools, cameras and much anticipation for what the month would hold!

One year ago this afternoon, we biked until it was 100 degrees at 11am, and took a siesta while the temp soared to 105. At 5pm, it dropped back under 100 degrees and we took off again. Vineyards, orchards, and olive groves lined the way. Rocky, mediterranean hills/mountains rose before and around us. The glory of the world God has made was shouting from the vast display of ever-rising hills and stretched out cultivated land.

One year ago today, I knew I would spend another year in Chicago, internally aching for the loss of the life in Haiti, and also internally rejoicing to continue digging my home-roots into Chicago. Such pain and joy at the same time, about the same thing -it is beyond words. I held it in. But God knew.

One year ago, I did not see the friendships that would deepen as those relationships crossed the 1-year threshold. I've learned that not everyone moves after 1-2 year in the United States. My church has become a dear family to me, as God's given this extra time here. I have real "family" to spend Thanksgivings and Easters and random days with, when a bit over a year ago, they were only names and faces, and nothing more. But God saw them.

One year ago, I didn't know my Monday Sisters. It hadn't been formed. We hadn't bonded. We were not close friends. We did not hold each other accountable. But God knew. And I know He basked in the joy of what He had in store for me and all of us!

One year ago I started on a specific journey to lean on God, the great Provider, Protector, and Healer. And I will be on this journey forever. Learning to lean on Him is not easy. But it is good, as I'm reminded often when I listen to this song. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ehkg7-SVByk

One year ago, I didn't know what it would hold. But God did. And WOW. He has blown my mind. He is good, what He does is good, and when He closes a door, He opens up the gate to something Waaaaay better, since it brings us closer to Him.