foolish and broken

they have great faith (day 16)

2010-01-20T12:13:00.000-08:00

You know how little kids jump on you without even thinking, like they know somehow that you’re going to catch them. It seems crazy to me. I know I had that child-like abandon as a kid. There’s home videos to prove it. But somewhere, at some point in time, I stopped jumping without making sure that someone or something was there to catch me.

Little kids have great faith, and yet working with them in ministry is totally different than working with any other group of people. Most kids, especially these ones here, simply need love. They need someone to play pool or ping-pong with them. They need someone to watch them flip on the trampoline. They need someone to climb on and drive them to the beach. They need someone to care enough to make them a peanut butter and jam sandwich and give them a cookie and some clean water. They need someone to encourage them to dance, to paint their toenails and remember their name. They need someone to smile at them and give them a hug and fix their cardboard shark visors when they break.

They need you to be Jesus.

I just finished reading a book by Jeff Jacobson called “So I Go Now”. In it, he talks about what modern-day Jesus would look like. He claims that Jesus would ride a Harley with no helmet, drive into the slum areas and always look like he had always known whoever he talked to. And he would have. He would look rough, but radiate love. He would be challenging and call us to get our hands dirty, but He would help us along the way.

It may sound cliché, but the most obvious example I can give you all right now is one of the people I currently have the great privilege to live and work with. Everyone on my team has been awesome, but if I had to pick one that has completely represented Christ in everything, it would be John.

He has not been at full health since we landed in New Zealand, but that hasn’t stopped him one bit. He is constantly on the move and always has a smile on his face and the strength to hold one more kid on his back. He serves without asking questions, drives all over to run errands and pick kids up, and wholeheartedly loves every kid he works with. I see Jesus so clearly in him and everything he does. It’s an awesome opportunity to be able to serve these kids alongside someone who so clearly is Jesus to them.

Sometimes children’s ministry is hard. Because when you are only here for 3 weeks, you don’t see a whole lot of immediate results. But kids remember when you hang out with them four days a week and spend the time taking them places they don’t really get to go.

So even if you only spend 15 minutes a day telling them about Jesus, it’s alright. Because for 10 days, you’ve shown them Jesus in everything you’ve done and the many ways you’ve loved them.

“Jesus said, ‘Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.’”
- Matthew 19:14

LOTR Meets the World Race

2010-01-17T01:44:00.000-08:00

This was a video challenge we encountered at Launch Training Camp. We had to make a video and our only prompt was "the Kingdom of Heaven is like..." from Matthew 13. So here is what my creative and brilliant team came up with.

Props to Jake and Emily for so closely resembling Hobbits. Points to John for being the perfect Gandalf. Christine was the creative genius behind the Lord of the Rings idea and the wonderful cameo. And Brook did a fabulous job as our fearless leader.

Enjoy the lost story of Frodo and the Hidden Treasure...

LOTR: Tale of the Hidden Treasure from Margie Termeer on Vimeo.

a conversation on a bus (day 5)

2010-01-09T03:56:00.000-08:00

It was like training camp all over again, in a great way. We all regrouped in Matamata, NZ at a YWAM base for 5 days before we got shipped out to our different contacts. And there will be more on that later. So Saturday our teams got on buses and traveled to separate parts of the North Island.

I talked with Robby our squad leader in the morning and he was asking me some random questions. One was, “what is your favorite color?” and I immediately responded with “green!” We were talking with several other racers about how excited we were to leave and go do ministry. We had a three hour bus ride ahead of us so we were looking forward to relaxing on that and Robby said offhandedly, “you never know what can happen on buses…”

How true Robby, how true.

We loaded on the bus yesterday around 3:45, ready for our 3-hour trip. There weren’t a whole lot of open seats, and really none close together, so I found myself sitting next to a young guy who was wearing a bright green shirt. He had a book on his lap, so I figured, we’ll say hi, he’ll read, I’ll read, this will just be an all around nice little trip.

Instead, I had a three hour conversation with a perfect stranger. And it was great. We made some small talk about where we were from (he’s a local kiwi) and what America was like. And we talked about New Zealand and United States politics and Obama and insurance and all of those crazy things. I had given him a vague description of the World Race when we first started talking without going into too much crazy detail.

And it was silent for a few minutes and then he asked a question that opened the doors. He wondered if televangelists and all the things that go along with that was really what represented the American church. So I went with it. I told him why all of us were REALLY doing the World Race and I told him about our experiences in meeting with God and what it is like to live in community and serve. It was an amazing conversation. He had grown up Catholic, but gotten frustrated with “religion.” So he claimed to have faith, but said that it was a more personal, individualistic thing. So we talked about community, about Jesus, about Loving God and Loving Others. He asked about my goals for the trip and this crazy year and I told him honestly.

I walked off the bus smiling. I feel this sense of joy when I get a glimpse of the ways that God works and the ways that he is going to use us this year. God is good, real good. You truly never know what will happen on a bus.

the shire (day 1)

2010-01-05T03:54:00.000-08:00

I currently reside across the street from the Shire. Seriously. New Zealand is beautiful, green, has many rolling hills and the sun is shining brightly as I write this at 4:15pm on Tuesday. We are safe and sound at a YWAM base about two hours from Auckland, where we landed at 5:00 this morning. It has been a long day, but it has also been good, full of reunions with people I met and couldn’t wait to see again after saying goodbye to 10 weeks ago at Training Camp.

God is good. That theme keeps resounding in my head, as I meet and talk with people I’ve known only a few short months. He is so good. As most of you already know, I am fully funded for the race. And what is even more wonderful is that out of the 6 people on my team, 4 of us are fully funded for the race. This first week spent in New Zealand will be spent together, all 115 of us living and breathing community. Most of us are way past excited and also a little nervous and scared. There’s so many unknowns, but that’s part of the adventure. And the thing is, God knows. He knows it all, and there is an overwhelming sense of peace among all of us simply because He is in control over every single aspect of this race.

So we begin our adventure. Today is day one, technically. All glory to Him. Here we go.

world race video

2009-11-13T19:06:00.000-08:00

Words seriously cannot express how excited I am for this trip. Especially with these people. So pumped. Enjoy the video.

World Race - January 2010 from Margie Termeer on Vimeo.

the letter e

2009-11-04T11:47:00.000-08:00

I like the letter e. I use it a lot. Did I think it would completely change my perspective on how God works? Not. A. Chance.

Fast forward to training camp – individual lives were changed and our teams had been made. My team is awesome and soon I’ll fill you guys in on my team members. Friday rolled around and it was “Ministry Day”. This is the part where I’m thinking, “Don’t make me do this, don’t make me go talk to strangers on the street. I’m not good at this…” Every time I think this, I should just know that God is going to rock my world. Every time I feel incapable, He pulls through.

We learned that we were going to head into a part of town called Little Mexico on Friday afternoon to do ministry. What exactly were we going to do? God knew. We didn’t. So, we spent part of the morning praying as a team, asking God to show us where to go and who to talk to. Seemingly random images popped in our heads. We wrote them down. A man in a black hat. People with umbrellas walking down the street. A little girl. Flowers. A corner building by a dark alley. The letter e.

Hmmm, okay God, I don’t get it. But oh well, here we go. So we drove over to Little Mexico and started walking down the street. Almost right away, we notice a man in a black hat sitting at a taco stand.

Teammate: I want some tacos.
Other teammate: Good cover, let’s go over there.

So we walk over to the taco stand and strike up a conversation with this man. We asked which tacos were the best. We asked his name. We asked where he was from and what he was doing here. And come to find out, his mom lives here and she’s sick and he moved to take care of her. So we prayed for him and his mom and that he could soon go home.

Alright, God, that was pretty cool. I didn’t say much in the conversation; some of my teammates took the lead. But I still walked away trusting God a little more.

We kept walking. We walked past a guy who was on the phone and when we were five paces past him, we realized that his hat had the letter e on the front. So what did we do? Two of my teammates turned around and chased this guy down the street. They talked for a few minutes and asked what he was doing. Turns out, he was headed to the local tattoo parlor we had already passed. Cool, maybe we’ll stop in there later on our way back to the car. The guy seemed real nice. We walked some more, talked to a few more people, prayed together and decided to head back and stop in at the tattoo parlor.

We looked around, saw the guy from earlier and struck up a conversation with the tattoo artist sitting at the front desk. He was drawing a tattoo but continued talking to whoever walked up to the desk. I was talking to him when my teammate Christine walked up and started talking about a book she’d recently read about the connection between creativity and spirituality. And all of sudden, I could see this guy get real interested in what she was saying. So before we both knew it, this guy is telling us that he has a little faith but he’s questioning whether or not you can be sure about going to heaven. “OH MY GOODNESS!” I’m thinking. This is crazy. This is unexpected. And I have no clue how to say everything I want to say to this guy.

So God stepped in, plain and simple. He gave us the words. He led my team leader over to share the gospel story with us to this man and another teammate came over and shared some scripture with this guy. We prayed with him before we left and made sure to give him a phone number so that he could get in contact with someone who could continue to answer his questions.

I walked out of that tattoo parlor thinking in a completely different way. God can use whatever he wants to lead us to people who are searching. It can even be as simple as the letter e.

I always glanced over the letter e. I NEVER considered that it could change my perspective on how God works, much less maybe change someone’s life. But God is just that good, and just that big and just that incredible.

stained clothes

2009-10-22T20:13:00.001-07:00

They weren’t kidding about Georgia red clay dirt. Seriously, it does stain everything you own. And when you weren’t planning on the cold days and real cold nights, you end up wearing everything warm you own, and it all gets stained.

I’m trying to decide whether or not to keep these clothes. I’m beginning to think that the stains symbolize something. Something different happened to me here this week at training camp and I’m not sure that I can adequately explain it.

God is more powerful and scary and loving and wonderful than I ever imagined. I have seen so much of God this week, and not only in my life. I walked in here on Friday night not knowing a soul. And that night I met three incredible friends, buddies, if you will that have been more than a blessing in my life over the past few days. And as we learned our final teams today, I was blessed again to be placed on a small team with one of my buddies.

God is good. I keep going back to that. And it has been amazing to see that in so many different ways, like a hike through the woods, team building activities, and some serious worship through dancing. Seriously. God is good.

It really is hard to put all in words here on a blog right now, when I’m still in the midst of all these amazing people who so clearly have God in their lives. I have been encouraged and challenged beyond belief and I LOVE it. I have come alive here and I am free.

* I would love to talk to anyone who has questions about training or about what God is doing in my life. I will be available by phone starting Sunday and home by Wednesday so feel free to call or stop by anytime. Love you all! *

where i've been and where i'm going

2009-08-24T19:38:00.000-07:00

my room is a constant work in progress. it has been for the last four years. since i am now living at home - not moving back and forth from college - i have gotten some things done, things i have been thinking about for a long time.

i received a gift last christmas from a friend who knows me well. it was a large map of the world and it came with pins to mark the places i've been and the places i am going to.

until tonight, that map looked like this on my wall.

and i finally had the supplies i needed and the drive to make it look like i've always wanted it to look.

final product.

you may not be able to see it from the picture but there are green dots marking where I have been and pink dots marking my upcoming World Race trail. as i look at them, i notice that they are on two sides of the world. i have been mainly to north, central and south america, with one trip to africa. i am going to new zealand and australia, asia, africa and eastern europe. it dawns on me that these are places i know nothing about. the world looks both big and small to me as i sit here on my bed and stare at this map. i can't pick one or the other.

but no matter how big and how small the world is, i feel safe right now. because i know this, God is guiding me in this world. he has guided where i've been and he is guiding where i am going. simply put, he is in control and with me no matter where i am. sitting here staring at this map or traveling it, he is with me.

the summer i felt redeemed

2009-08-23T12:03:00.000-07:00

I never remember FEELING redeemed before this summer. Redemption was something I kind of knew about, it was something I talked about in Sunday School and heard in church sermons. But I didn’t know that it could actually be FELT. I didn’t know until this summer that redemption and grace go hand in hand. I didn’t know that God’s grace is shown through HIS people. It is shown by second chances. It is shown by people trusting me again. And not just trusting, but giving me more of a chance than I had ever had in my life to live for God.

The summer started before summer. It started when I got a phone call from Wanda Wilt early in April asking me to help her co-direct our Vacation Bible School. I said, “sure, why not.” What else did I have to do at that time, really? So I jumped in full force and began learning the ropes for running VBS. It was a learning process. It involved meeting after meeting and spreadsheet after spreadsheet, but it was so worth it. From June 15th – 19th my life was consumed with morning and evening VBS. I should have just lived at the church that week.

There is something special about VBS that I still can’t place my finger on. There’s something about it that makes me cry every time we reach our missions money goal. There is something about the way the kids faces light up when they sing the songs. There’s something about the way the church transformed into the Amazon all for the kids. There’s something about dressing like a crazy person to go to church. There’s something about the way the little kids hug you on the playground every night. But most important, there’s something there that we give them that week. The Bible becomes a little more real, a little more important, and a little more exciting to them. And that’s the whole point of our long preparation, isn’t it?

Rewind a little bit in time to my first week in the office working on VBS. Gary stops me in the hallway and asks if I want to go on the Jr. High Believe conference that weekend. They really need another adult female sponsor to go, and would I be willing… Um, do you REALLY need me? I mean, Jr. High kids, come on. But once again I say, “sure, why not” and I’m off on another adventure.

My thinking about Jr. Highers changes on this trip. I swore up and down I would never work with them, and look where God has obviously placed me. He seems to do that quite often in my life. I had an incredible time and I’ve been a sucker for working with the Jr. High kids ever since.

Because of the above trip, I ended up being a sponsor at the Round Lake Jr. High week that I attended as a Jr. High student. I worked under the same deans I went to camp under. I served with the staff that served me. And I grew to love my kids even more, especially as I watched them get catapulted into the air on the blob. Camp was a highlight of my summer because of one night we had. They had an altar call for the kids and those who also wanted prayer could come forward and receive that. 5 girls from my dorm came forward for prayer and I got to sit around a table and pray with them collectively and individually. My heart broke that night as I listened to their struggles, cried with them and tried to encourage them through this time. I had no clue what to say when I walked down with them, but God gave me the words and pushed me to minister to them that night.

Another highlight came the week after camp. I got home on a Friday and boarded a plane on Saturday to go to another place I call home. I went back to Arizona, largely because they begged me to come back and bake cookies for them, but also because I had missed everyone terribly the whole year that I had been gone. My week was full of incredible moments. I drove the strip in Vegas, watched the Bellagio fountains, got Arizona iced tea at gas stations, went to church and sang with their teens, cooked in the same place I did before, ate plenty of frybread – even my favorite meal, frybread, spam and onions, sang with Daniel, had a heartbreaking and incredible conversation with Daniel, reminisced about last summer, drove up Navajo mountain, camped, saw the best view, and swam in Lake Powell. It was everything I dreamed and more. This was the place where I experienced both extreme hardships and also extreme joy. I left a part of my heart with those people, and I will always carry a part of them with me.

The end of July provided me another opportunity to work with Jr. High students. I took a three day mission trip with them to the Christian Children’s Home of Ohio, where my main job was to cook for our team. Our kids built and painted picnic tables for the children’s home. We also got to climb a 40-foot tower and zipline down. This was a new a scary experience for many of these kids, and it was fun to be there and encourage them in this adventure.

August has included a stint of grandma-sitting for some of my friends’ grandma while they were on vacation. I enjoyed this way more than I thought I would. It has included a family vacation to Minnesota where I was thoroughly entertained by my cousin’s 4 and 2 year old boys. And it has also included me going back to Tree of Life as a secretary for 3 weeks, a job that was an answer to a prayer I didn’t even know I had.

At the beginning of all of this, I had no clue what the next year held in store for me. Many of you who read this already know that the next year of my life holds an adventure that will be greater than I can even imagine at this point. Another part of my FEELING redeemed this summer was my acceptance into a program called the World Race. It is through an organization in Georgia called Adventures in Missions and it is an 11-month, 11 country missions trip experience. I heard about this trip in February of 2008 and ever since then, it has been on the back of my mind. When I didn’t receive an internship that I had applied for, the World Race once again popped into my mind and I began the application process in May. In mid-June I got accepted and it has been a whirlwind of emotions ever since. I am incredible excited, but I have days where I am scared out of my mind wondering what I am thinking. God calls us out of our comfort zones, and while I know that I can do this with HIM, I still can’t stop the scary feeling I get knowing that I am leaving everything I know for 11 months. It is a long time, but this is something that He has called me to do, and I’m going to do it.
So, New Zealand, Australia, Malaysia, Thailand, Cambodia, Kenya, Uganda, Pioneer Africa, Romania, Ukraine and Pioneer Eastern Europe, here I come.

I have been broken. And I am redeemed.

(For more information on the World Race, check our their website at www.theworldrace.org or my World Race blog at www.margietermeer.theworldrace.org)

never thought this would happen

2009-08-03T07:51:00.000-07:00

Jr. High kids were not my specialty. In fact, a year ago or 6 months ago, I had NO plans of really working with them, ever. But my plans are not the best, really. So when God opened the door to work with jr. high kids, I stepped through in faith. And I have had the time of my life ever since.

These kids are great. I have learned to LOVE them. I have learned from them. I was recruited as a mentor, but these kids have ministered to me more than I could realize. They are part of my second chance. I look forward to every minute I get to spend with them.

And boy, do we have fun together...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NMovoo6QEZQ

girls in blue dresses with no satin sashes...

2009-07-03T20:22:00.000-07:00

I really wish I could explain what the sisterhood meant to me.

There's been wonderful times that we've walked through together (mostly late at nite and involving macaroni and cheese).

There's been hard times (with many tears) that we have unfortunately walked through together.

But through it all, these three girls have been ones I could call at any time.

And today, one of them got married. Lisa always tried to take care of us. Her older sister, mother instinct kicked in quite early in the sisterhood, and it is one of the things I love about her.

But Lisa also knows how to have an incredibly good time (seaweed, anyone?)

Congratulations, Lisa and Lin - know that I will always be praying for you both. And Lisa, just because you're married doesn't mean that sisterhood moments can't be relived...

ah. here we go...

2009-07-01T13:15:00.000-07:00

Here goes the month of July…

First of all, there’s the wedding. Lisa is getting married in less than 48 hours and it’s going to be an all day affair, but it will be a fun one.

I have one day to recoup.

Sunday, I leave for jr. high church camp up at Round Lake. I haven’t been up there in two years, and I am really excited. Two years ago, I got to go to Round Lake with a bunch of other people from church as well as a bunch of our jr. high kids. This year, I’m the only sponsor from church with a dozen or so of our kids, but I’m still really excited. I’ll get to be a family leader and get to know not only whoever I am leading a family with, but also all of my kids.

In my head, and a few times out loud, I’ve said that jr. high kids weren’t my favorite and I couldn’t really picture myself working with them.

Well, God likes to take what I say and turn it around. And like I’ve learned before, I’ve seen it again lately, His plans are ALWAYS better (and more fun) than mine.

So I’ve been working with jr. high kids. And I love them. I love talking to them, I love subbing for them, and I love being around them.

So, RLCA, since you invested in me in jr. high school so many times, here I am again, to invest in however many of the 140 kids next week that I can.

Jr. high, here I come.

After jr. high camp, life gets even more exciting. I’m going to Vegas.

Just flying there, where I go beyond Vegas is way more exciting to me than Vegas. Inscription House, AZ, here I come.

I love this place. I left my heart there. (For more details or info, go back and read my old posts from last summer about this place and the incredible people that I love there.)

It’s been too long since I’ve seen this family, this family that I am a part of. Sarah told me to come back anytime after I told her I loved eating drybread with sheep fat and liver.

So, Arizona, I am so ready to see you. I am so ready to walk across eggshell arch, to hike down in the canyon, to drive fast with Jere, to talk with Daniel, and to give every single family member a hug.

Life is good when you can see and be with the people you love. This is going to be a great July.

waterslide lines, or any kind of line

2009-06-22T20:11:00.001-07:00

I went to hang out with Anna. People watching is an added bonus. The local waterpark just happens to be the perfect place to do both.

We were standing in line yesterday, waiting for a slide, when some guy made a really strange comment to Anna about her being a competitive swimmer, then proceeded to tell us that the slides were so crazy he sometimes screams four-letter words. We weren’t impressed. We went down the slide and thought we were done talking. Lo and behold, we see this guy and his friend again, in another line, another opportunity for a short conversation.

It was typical, until we asked when they had come to the waterpark today. The guy said 2:00, because they had been drinking the night before and slept in late. Not impressed again, either of us. We tried to end the conversation as soon as we could. The slide line couldn’t move fast enough.

After it was over, I looked at Anna, and we both had the same look on our faces. I asked her why people always feel the need to brag about cussing and drinking. Is that really supposed to be impressive? Maybe so, maybe the world is impressed by these things. We are different. To the world, we are supposed to look weird, the be strangers, to be aliens.

After the fact, once Anna and I had walked away, we thought of several good things we could have said to these guys, things that would have made them second guess what they wanted to tell us. We were too put off in that moment to take the opportunity to talk about why those things don’t impress us. But next time, in whatever line I find myself in, I will carry on that conversation.

There’s always opportunities to shine the light in a dark place, to explain why we are like aliens in this world.

tiki huts and carpet rolls

2009-06-20T20:09:00.000-07:00

Tiki huts and carpet roll trees were the visible signs that VBS was going on this week. The invisible signs were my brain getting ready to explode and my heart overjoyed that VBS was actually happening.

The week was crazy, crazy in a good way. It was the kind of crazy that I love. The kind of crazy that has attached to it beautiful moments engineered by little kids. There was the little girl that made Tangi wear the sparkly star-shaped sunglasses, the little kid named Matteo who spelled out his name before he said it, the way the little kids chased Chris around the playground, and the way the 6th graders got so excited about whipped cream shots from Phyllis.

But VBS definitely is not all about the funny and wonderful moments with the children. It is about sharing with them the most important thing of all time. We traveled through the Bible via the Amazon and ended on the last day with the story of Jesus. There was the skit, being acted out in front of me, re-telling a story I have heard more times than I could count.

And as I stood in the back, hanging on to a chair, I found myself crying. I listened to the story again, and I found myself overwhelmed by the gospel, again. It has happened before. The greatness of the story, the immense love that is God, physically shakes me, and tears start rolling down my face. There were two women crazily dressed up on stage trying to tell kids about Jesus, and they touched me too.

I still get overwhelmed, and I love it. The Word is alive and has the power to overwhelm me every time I hear it, or tell it.

23 places... or just 2

2009-06-10T14:28:00.000-07:00

"The opening greeting (of Colossians) closes with a most significant placing of two things side by side. He writes to the Christians who are in Colosse and who are in Christ. A Christian always moves in two spheres. He is in a certain place in this world; but he is also in Christ. He lives in two dimensions. He lives in this world whose duties he does not treat lightly; but above and beyond that he lives in Christ. In this world he may move from place to place; but wherever he is, he is in Christ. That is why outward circumstances make little difference to the Christian; his peace and his joy are not dependent on them. That is why he will do any job with all his heart. It may be menial, unpleasant, painful, it may be far less distinguished than he might expect to have; its rewards may be small and its praise non-existent; nevertheless the Christian will do it diligently, uncomplainingly and cheerfully, for he is in Christ and does all things as to the Lord. We are all in our own Colosse, but we are all in Christ, and it is Christ who sets the tone of our living."

-William Barclay (in his commentary on Colossians)

2 places. 2 dimensions. Duties here and duties in Christ. Our own Colosse's.

Today and for the next week, my Colosse is VBS. The rest of the year is still a mystery.

Hopefully starting January 1, 2010 my Colosse will be in 11 different countries next year. (my interview for the World Race is tomorrow. for more information, go to www.theworldrace.org)

But for now, I'll realize that I am in Christ, and this one thing, I share with millions of people all over the world. So no matter what city or town I am currently in, I am connected to the body of Christ, always.

*I'm just learning to be 23 places...* (or just 2)

slowly... getting... there...

2009-05-29T11:00:00.000-07:00

books. i love books.

I picked up Les Miserables again, the 1460 pager by Victor Hugo (who was getting paid by the word - if you were getting paid by the word, you'd write 1400 applicable pages and 60 on the battle of Waterloo too.)

I haven't read Les Mis since the plane on my way home from Africa. Every time I pick it up, I think of the many hours I spent sitting on our porch against the pole reading Les Mis while others worked on their homework. It reminded me too much of Africa, of the good times and the hard times. I don't know why I chose this week to pick it up again.

But I'm glad I did. As I sit here, in the library back at Tree of Life, it suddenly dawns on me that this book is one large story of redemption, at least, that's what my mom always says. I'm remembering it now. Redemption, forgiveness, a second chance. Hmm, sounds a lot like my life at this moment in time.

I needed time to process Africa, before I could pick this book up again. I've had that time. Those memories still come back. I still have to deal with consequences of my mistakes. But there is redemption, a wonderful redemption because of my Savior, who has forgiven me, and called me to a new and beautiful life. (hopefully more to come on this new life later!)

So even with the craziness of life right now between subbing and VBS, I'll hopefully finish the last 200 pages of Les Mis, completing one of my life goals of reading the entire unabridged version, and view the story in a whole new light.

bobs

2009-05-28T20:17:00.001-07:00

I should be asleep. By my normal standards, this wouldn’t be late. But tomorrow is different. Yes, I am going back to school tomorrow to sub, but that’s not even why 11 at night is late. The reason is breakfast.

Bob Evans.

I don’t normally get excited about going to Bob Evans. It’s not like it’s my favorite restaurant or anything.

But there’s this group of people that get together and go to Bob Evans before school. I’m lucky enough to be one of the original five, along with my brother Matt, and our friends Anna and Dan Starkey and Alex Aurand. I’m lucky enough to be as crazy as these other four people that go to Bob Evans with me once or twice a year.

We’ve gone ever since I was a senior in high school. We went on special occasions, birthdays, end of the year, etc. When I left for college, the other four were still in high school and when I was home on holidays, we would go again. We’ve had special guests go with us some days, but it’s not the same if one of the original five is missing.

When we were all in high school, I would drive everyone in the mornings. For convenience, everyone would stay at the Termeer household the night before the Bobs breakfasts. Alex holed himself up in the guest bedroom so our cats wouldn’t bother his allergies. Dan was content to sleep on the couch, Matt slept in his room, and Anna and I would cram ourselves onto my twin bed. Those nights before, the morning breakfasts, and the crammed rides to school in a little Hyundai are some of my favorite memories of my senior year.

Tomorrow is the end of an era for Bobs. Anna and Matt graduated two years ago, and are home now. Dan and Alex graduate this year, and once that happens, our Bobs tradition will change. And that’s okay, but I know Bobs is something I’ll remember. And maybe one day, once all of us have been through our various schooling and we’re at home for something, we’ll wake up before 6 and go to Bobs for breakfast.

the meaning of a pink mug

2009-05-10T18:57:00.000-07:00

There’s this scene in Return to Me when Minnie Driver is at the zoo with Bonnie Hunt and all her kids. She has this pink letter in her pocket that she has been carrying around for a year. It’s a thank you letter. For a heart. You see, Minner Driver had a heart transplant (and received David Ducovney’s wife’s heart, she later falls in love with David Ducovney, but that’s not the point of this post…) Anyways, she can’t bring herself to mail this letter. And Bonnie Hunt is yelling at her to just mail it. And Minnie Driver stands there, shaking the folded pint letter in her hand saying, “a thank you letter for a heart… it seems so… not enough.”

So… not enough.

That’s what mother’s day is, a day to say thank you to your mother, but the thank you seems so… not enough.

So, mom, here’s my not enough thank you for everything you’ve given me…

Thank you for:
Dollar theater movies.
Instilling in me a love of musicals, books, and Steel Magnolias.
Sharing your friends and Bible studies with me.
Shopping days.
Random gifts.
Putting me through college.
Always being involved in my schooling.
Not holding me back as I travel the world.
Wanting to visit wherever I am.
Being the one who’s always been there, who knows me better than I realize and for seeing past my mistakes to my heart.
Your love and grace.

And thank you most especially for your hugs. I and anyone else who’s ever received one know that yours are the best. I highly doubt I could survive without them.

The real meaning of the pink mug is this: I love you, more than I say, but I wanted you to know that you’re the best and I am thankful for you everyday, not just on mother’s day.

blessings of the unexpected

2009-05-08T18:56:00.000-07:00

It has been nothing less than an interesting week. I think I could appropriately title it “Change and Growth” but that really just doesn’t sound cool enough. Don’t worry, I’ll work on it and come up with something better. But for now, I’ll just say that basically everything I am doing this week is included in the list of things I thought I would never do. Seriously.

1. Direct a VBS. Monday was a now-typical Monday. I meet with the other VBS director on Mondays and talk about everything we need to get done. Normally, these meetings last quite a while, and Monday was no exception. Most people don’t enjoy meetings, I understand this. And sometimes, I hate them too. But these VBS ones, looking ahead and getting a picture of what the week will hold, it makes these meetings exciting. And while it is a lot of work and many days I still feel I have no clue what I am doing, I’m learning and getting to work with people who have been so gracious and loving.

2. Go back to high school. Wednesday. Thursday. Friday. This, I NEVER thought I would do. And for the record, I am officially blaming Sheri Aurand and Laura Stier for my return to high school. Yes, I went back to high school. But not as a student (which is strange being that’s all I’ve known until now.) Yep, you guessed it. I’m a substitute teacher. At the small, wonderful high school I attended only four short years ago. Those years went by really fast… Substitute teaching has been more than an adventure. It has really been hilarious. And apparently, now I’m an adult. Although I sure don’t feel like it. Maybe I should be worried about things like getting a car, having health insurance, and other adult-like things. But I find myself strangely NOT worried. Somewhere inside my mind I know that God will provide for me. And it’s slowly reaching my heart, so that I am really truly believing this. And there’s this peace, this peace which passes all understanding. And that’s really all I can say about it, because I don’t understand it. All I know is that it’s there.

Life takes these strange turns. And I’m never sure why or sometimes even how they happen. But in 5 years, when I can look back, I wonder if I’ll see this week or month in a whole new light. I wonder if the craziness of May 2009 will make sense to me then. Sometimes I wonder where I’ll be in 5 years, but then I get overwhelmed and just stop thinking about it.

All I really know is this… God is in control (just like the old Twila Paris song). He WILL provide, in his own way. And if it’s directing VBS, substitute teaching at Tree or something else I don’t really expect, I’ll take it, because his adventures are always greater than mine. All I have to do is look back and see what he’s already done.

i've worn out the world

2009-04-28T16:53:00.000-07:00

What does a goodbye look like? A goodbye to a place that’s been like a home for four years. What do you do? There’s no way you can say goodbye and give everyone you’ve met there a hug. There are people I had coffee with several times that I never officially said goodbye to. I found myself instead getting one last glance as I watched them on the screen walk across the stage and receive their diploma cover. I said goodbye in my head. I said goodbye for me, not for them. Because they’ve already moved on. I saw the people I needed to see, and said goodbye in my head to the others.

Driving away was different than I thought. I was already done with IWU the school. And this time, I was driving away from the people. And the people that were hardest to drive away from was this family that I had grown to love so much. I love their house. They have 6 children (one is a new baby), 2 ducks living in their kitchen, a cat with 3 new kittens and a goat tied in their backyard. When I walk in, I’m greeted with hugs and smiles, and I can sit and play and talk with them for hours. I love that place. That home was hard to leave. I would go back not for campus, not for IWU, but for that home, those incredible people.

I’ve worn out the IWU world. I’m done there. And I’m good. I’m better than good. There’s something new waiting for me. There’s a place where I will live. There are people I will meet. And while IWU is in my past, I’m not going to really miss it. I’ve carried the memories and the people with me.

It was a good place. I learned there, through good times and bad. But it’s officially over now, and I’m moving on.

Hello World…

*Now that I've worn out, I've worn out the world
I'm on my knees in fascination
Looking through the night
And the moons never seen me before
But I'm reflecting light

I wrote the pain down
Got off and looked up
Looked into your eyes
The lost open windows
All around
My dark heart lit up the skies

And now that I've worn, I've worn out the world
I'm on my knees in fascination
Looking through the night
And the moons never seen me before
But I'm reflecting light

Give up the ground
Under your feet
Hold on to nothing for good
Turn and run at the mean times
Chasing you
Stand alone and misunderstood

And now that I've worn, I've worn out the world
I'm on my knees in fascination
Looking through the night
And the moons never seen me before
But I'm reflecting light*

Reflecting Light – Sam Phillips (As seen in Gilmore Girls)

orleanna and the jr. high kids

2009-04-19T21:22:00.000-07:00

“I find her standing on the sea wall in raincoat and no shoes, glaring at the ocean. Orleanna and Africa at a standoff.” (Adah – The Poisonwood Bible)

I spent the weekend with 14 jr. high students at a Believe conference in Anderson, IN. Why? I think I’m still figuring it out. I spent weeks waiting, wondering where God was going to take me now. Back to a place that holds great spiritual memories for me.

I found myself looking over the auditorium at Anderson University remembering that that place held my beginnings at youth conferences too. In the summer of 2001 I was getting ready to enter high school and spent a week in Anderson with some incredible people who changed my life. And here I was again, with these kids as they began their journey. And while I would have loved for my mind to be thinking all about them this weekend, God did something different in my heart.

Once again, He spoke to me about grace. He used loud music, wonderful speakers and an auditorium full of crazy jr. high students to show me his love, and that he has plans for them and me.

He showed me that Africa and I aren’t done yet. There is still this longing in my heart for that place and those people. Maybe it’s because I left fast, but as one speaker told the story of Austin Gutwein and Hoops for Hope, I found myself crying as I cheered for the clinic they built in Zambia. Those people have a piece of my heart.

Orleanna and the jr. high kids aren’t the most likely combination. But since when has God ever used anything normal in my life…

at 9:30 on tuesday morning...

2009-04-16T05:22:00.000-07:00

I’m a fairly lucky 22-year old. Not only do I have an incredibly wise and wonderful mother, she is now sharing with me a part of her life that I have grown to love.

There is an eclectic group of really cool women that meet at 9:30 on Tuesday morning for Bible study. They have often gone through Beth Moore books and are now making their way through a Kelly Minter study. But the books that they go through isn’t what is special about them.

They share their stories. They facebook each other. They relate to what they’re studying. And probably little known to them, they are teaching me more than I ever could learn in a classroom.

These are your everyday women, wives, mothers, grandmothers, and friends. I understand that many college students probably wouldn’t love going to their mom’s Bible study every Tuesday morning. Maybe I’m strange, but I love it. It’s my favorite time of the week. I never know what I’m going to hear or learn.

So, Tuesday morning group, here’s to you. Thank you for making me feel included. Thank you for welcoming me home. Thank you for sharing your stories and allowing me to interject comments every once in a while. I’ve learned more from you than you’ll ever know.

ruth and lezlee and jon

2009-04-12T19:56:00.000-07:00

For me, Africa has been about grace. And it isn’t just what happened at the end. The whole experience has symbolized grace to me. If I could put a face of someone on grace, I would use Maureen’s face.

Grace welcomed me home. And it’s not leaving either. Sermons I’ve heard since I’ve been home have been about grace. The North American conference is about grace this year.

Easter, this year for me, was about grace. Grace.

I was overwhelmed with the letters I and my family received as I returned back to the States at the end of February. I printed these out and put them in my journal from Africa. These letters are as much about Africa as everything I wrote.

Two incredible women that I wish I knew better wrote me something about Easter that hit home on those cold days in March and the beautiful sunny, Easter day today.

“Life is always messy. That’s why we needed the cleansing blood. Sometimes if we live just good enough, we never really believe we need it that much. You will know him for his gift now at this season of Easter. You will be better for it.” – Ruth

“We are most formed spiritually when we come face to face with our sin and the suffering that accompanies it in this world. My hunch is that this Easter will be like none other for you… basking in the love of Jesus in new ways no one could imagine.” – Lezlee

I kept thinking about these letters and the many others that flooded my inbox as I sat in Easter service and listened during communion. And the Jon started to sing…

My soul is weak
My heart is numb
I cannot see
But still my hope is found in You
I’ll hold on tightly
You will never let me go
For Jesus, You will never fail
Jesus, You will never fail

Simply to the cross i cling
Letting go of all earthly things
Clinging to the cross
Mercy’s found a way for me
Hope is here as i am free
Jesus, You are all i need
Clinging to the cross

Even darkness is as light to You, my Lord
So light the way and lead me home
To that place where every tear is wiped away
For Jesus, You will never fail
Jesus, You will never fail

Simply to the cross i cling
Letting go of all earthly things
Clinging to the cross
Mercy’s found a way for me
Hope is here as i am free
Jesus, You are all i need
Clinging to the cross

What a Saviour, what a story
You were crucified but now You are alive
So amazing, such a mystery
You were crucified but now You are alive

Simply to the cross i cling
Letting go of all earthly things
Clinging to the cross
Mercy’s found a way for me
Hope is here as i am free
Jesus, You are all i need
Clinging to the cross

Thank you Jesus. I couldn't thank you enough for your grace in my life. So thank you.

band-aids and longer lasting pain

2009-04-10T17:12:00.000-07:00

I no longer fully own my heart.

And I used to think that I left pieces of my heart in the places where I’ve been. I’m rethinking that. I haven’t just left random pieces in the places, I’ve given pieces away to people.

When I look back over my life, a life that to many would maybe seem unexciting, has been to me a grand adventure. The people I’ve met have been more than amazing, and it’s these people that own pieces of my heart, whether they know it or not.
And I guess that’s why it’s so hard to leave these people. They own a part of me, a part that while I am glad to give away, I will never give back. I always think when I leave that things will never be the same. I will never be with these people in this place again. And when I stop to think about it, it hurts. Really hurts.

When I left Africa, it was like ripping off a band-aid. It had to happen and I wasn’t really ready for it. It happened so fast and it hurt intensely for a while, but it wasn’t like anticipating leaving. And that is what my friends are going through right now.
Two incredible young women have spent since the beginning of January in Dubai. They come home in 3 weeks. And am I ever ready for them to come home. Yet, I know these last 3 weeks are going to be hard thinking that they will soon be leaving. This isn’t ripping off a band-aid. It’s something in which the pain lasts longer although with maybe a little less intensity.
In the end, the hurt is kind of the same.

Whether I leave fast or slow, I realize that I’ve still left a part of myself with the people.

So here’s a toast to the people who own a part of me that may not even realize they own. And here’s another to two amazing friends. May the next 21 days be more than you ever imagined. And when you get home and it hurts, I’ll be here.

for you and me

2009-03-19T19:26:00.000-07:00

"I know God will not give me anything I can't handle.
I just wish He didn't trust me so much."

- Mother Teresa -

verse two

2009-03-11T20:31:00.000-07:00

*I was a little girl alone in my little world
who dreamed of a little home for me.
I played pretend between the trees,
and fed my houseguests bark and leaves,
and laughed in my pretty bed of green.

I had a dream
That I could fly from the highest swing.
I had a dream.

Long walks in the dark through woods grown behind the park,
I asked God who I'm supposed to be.
The stars smiled down on me,
God answered in silent reverie.
I said a prayer and fell asleep.

I had a dream
That I could fly from the highest tree.
I had a dream.

Now I'm old and feeling grey.
I don't know what's left to say about this life I'm willing to leave.
I lived it full and I lived it well,
there's many tales I've lived to tell. I'm ready now,
I'm ready now, I'm ready now to fly from the highest wing.

I had a dream*

Dream - Priscilla Ahn

*Thank you Tibs - I'm so blessed to have a friend like you*

the little girl in me

2009-03-08T18:31:00.000-07:00

I have spent the past three days surrounded by kids who are half my size, little girls who are better basketball players than they were three months ago, who are still in elementary school, who are not ashamed to skip and dance and laugh out loud, and who have so many adventures ahead of them. I closely watched these 8 little girls on Friday, as I ref’d one of their games. I watched them play their last 36 minutes of Upward basketball this season on Saturday. I saw my dad and their parents beam with pride as my dad explained how far they’ve come this season and how much they’ve grown. And I celebrated with them today.

Julia, with the crazy hair, was who I saw myself as when I was that age. My dad disagreed. He said Sidney, who skips down the court, was the one that reminded him of me the most. And I remembered this video we have from when I was three or four, singing in front of church. I don’t remember myself at that age, but apparently, I loved to sing and dance. During a song the little kids were singing in front of church back in the day, I was standing in front, and I got excited about this song. So I started jumping, up and down, by myself. But soon, others joined in my enthusiasm, jumping up and down with me. My mom has memories of me dancing around the house singing along with a tape of “Sing Your Praise to the Lord.”

Somewhere around 2nd or 3rd grade, I got really shy. Yes, I am an introvert, but I really closed up for several years. And the dancing little girl in me got lost. That lasted for a long time. I took on the shy identity and made that who I always was. I forgot to really sing and dance. I didn’t know who I was or what I wanted to do.

In 2003, I went to Venezuela and found myself again in the adventure. I fell in love with the country and the people and traveling. I sang at the top of my lungs with those people and began to dance again. Every trip I take, I find another piece of myself, only to leave a piece of my heart with the people I meet and travel with. The little girl, uninhibited, is resurfacing. I want to jump and skip and dance and sing again.

So many people today told me I have the “adventurous spirit.” Is that what it’s called? This desire I have within me to go everywhere. People wonder where it’s from, my parents, other family members? I have no idea actually.

All I really know is this…

This adventurous little girl who will gladly hike up a mountain in Venezuela, play a softball game with strangers in the DR, go white water rafting (and fall out of the raft) in Costa Rica, hike down a canyon and cross a natural arch in Arizona, skydive in Ohio and ride on top of land cruisers in Zambia is not done being adventurous. She has no clue what’s next but she is ready and willing to go everywhere and do whatever God calls her to do.

The little girl in me is now really me.

school bus hugs

2009-03-05T19:46:00.001-08:00

Today I saw a little girl get off a school bus. She wasn’t very old, maybe 1st or 2nd grade. My mom and I were driving along Hard Rd and had to stop because a school bus was letting off kids near an apartment complex. There was a mom and a younger brother waiting for this little girl. And when that little girl stepped off the bus, the younger brother ran up to her and gave her the biggest hug.

And I thought, ‘he’s probably waited all day to see his older sister and give her that hug.’ All day to that little boy was a long time. A day doesn’t seem that long to me anymore. But I’ve lived 22 years. That boy was maybe 4.

I remember when days seemed forever. Weeks were an eternity. And I could barely wrap my mind around a month. Not seeing my brother all day was torture. All day was a long time back then.

Nowadays, I go months without seeing my brother, or other people I love. My concept of time has changed. A day to that little boy is the same as months to me. But hugs for my brother after months look exactly the same as that hug I witnessed today between a brother and sister who had gone ALL DAY without seeing each other. It’s like stepping off a school bus to a waiting family at the end of a long day.

I get my next hug in a few weeks from my little brother. Except now he’s the one in school and I’m the bum at home. It will still be just as good. I’ve been waiting all day.

see blog name

2009-03-01T20:07:00.000-08:00

I am home, in Ohio.

Africa was great. It just ended a little differently and a little earlier than I thought it would. But I’ve learned over the past 10 days that while life may never go as we plan, God is still in control and he can use our mistakes and screw-ups for his glory.

I made a mistake. A big one. And it has cost not only me, but so many people that I love and care for. A group of 10 of us from the team went to a local place in Choma that didn’t accurately represent IWU or World Hope. We didn’t think before we went how our quick decision might affect so many people. I personally slipped into being a friend and forgot to be a leader (something I struggled with throughout my whole time in Africa). Peer pressure took over. And I’ve asked myself questions. What was I thinking? How did I let this happen? I've been wracking my brain for a week trying to figure out everything I did wrong, everything that led me to this point. And while I could make excuses for my decisions, it comes down to a poor decision and lack of good judgment on my part.

Because of this decision, the 10 of us were all sent home early. Some may claim this was too harsh, some understand the consequences. All I can really say is that no matter what IWU decided as punishment for our actions in Zambia, I trust that God is still in control and still has great things in store for every single one of us that got to spend 7 incredible weeks in Zambia.
I truly wish I could express how sorry I am about what happened. God has done a number on me the past few days. He's been the one I've had to run to and while I understand his disappointment in me, I have also felt his forgiveness and his grace in ways I can't even begin to express. He has taught me how to have a truly repentant heart. He has shown me the hearts of the other students who were also there and how incredibly sorry they are. We never dreamed that our actions would cause so much heartache and pain, and if we had honestly known or thought about it, not one of us would have ever gone.

God's grace has been clearly evident through this whole situation, in spite of the heartache we've caused everyone. I wish grace could be explained through a picture. I would take one of Maureen and the WHIZ country director, Elvan Chilundika. They have shown us more grace than I believe is humanly possible. They have exemplified Christ in so many ways that I struggle to believe it most days. We deserve nothing, and they have given us everything and more. I wish everyone could know them, understand grace the way they understand grace. We have all learned more from them than we ever imagined we could through this time.

If there can be a good side to this mistake and this story, God will find it. My prayer over the last few days has been that in spite of my many mistakes here, this included, He will still shine through and his glory will be revealed. I know he can take things like this and turn them into something great and wonderful that can be used for his kingdom.

I didn't go to Lusaka with the team last weekend. I spent time alone for four days, reading and wrestling with God and surviving off instant coffee and popcorn and PB and J sandwiches. God used these four days to prepare my heart to come home. It's not going to be easy, and many conversations are not going to be fun, but I trust that God is going to do something in that. And maybe there's something hidden for me in coming home early. I don't know. Maybe I'll never know. But He is so good, and I trust him more now than I think I have in the past.

That weekend was hard. It was hard to be alone, to be silent. And I tried to avoid God at times. By Sunday morning, I was tired and frustrated and not sure what to think. I hadn't heard God yet. I knew in my head that he loved me, that in spite of everything and this situation, he still had great things planned for me. And yet, it hadn't sunk into my heart yet. And then, something happened.

This is what I wrote down after my experience in church:
“I wish I could explain what just happened. Church was normal, other than the fact that I'm here alone while everyone else is in Lusaka. Special music, yeah, it happens every week. Except someone different got up today. He'd made a DVD of songs and was singing one of them for us. He sang. Ba Judy translated for me. He called up one man, sang something to him. The crowd was totally into it. And then, he looked right into my eyes and called me up front. I was shocked. I had to put down the little girl in the red sweater sitting on my lap and stand in front of everyone. When I got up there, this man whose name I don't even know, grabbed my right hand and started singing to me in English. I smiled and listened to the words. He was saying that God brought me here from somewhere else for a specific purpose, that I was in Zambia for a reason. And tears started to form in my eyes and I tried so hard to keep smiling. As he continued, talking about how God knows my past, present and future, the tears started falling and I kept trying to smile. And when he told me with such clarity that God has great things for my life, I really lost it. I was so in awe. 60 some hours alone, with almost nothing but 4 novels to show for it, God spoke, out loud. So clearly. He said exactly what I needed to hear, exactly when I needed to hear it, in front of the entire Mochipapa church, right before I was about to give up some hope. He's incredible. He's amazing. How unworthy am I to be called a child of God and yet, I am one. And despite what I've done, He has great and wonderful things in store for me.”

That was last Sunday, in Zambia. And today, God blew me away again. I came home on Thursday. My incredible parents picked me up from the airport and drove me home. Every single person has been glad to see me, no matter the circumstances. And God’s love, shown through all of these people that love me, has continued to overwhelm me day after day after day that I am home.

There’s a program called Upward basketball that my church in Ohio has. This year, they are reaching 800 kids from 1st through 6th grade with basketball programs and cheerleading. My dad coaches 1st and 2nd grade girls. And on Friday, I got to watch their game. These little girls were much improved from the stories my dad told me of their first few games. They were a joy to watch, but the interesting thing came from a little girl named Kaylee on the other team. One of the goals of Upward is for every kid to score at least one basket during the season. The season ends next week and for this little girl who had yet to make a basket, time was winding down quickly. After half time I noticed that every time Kaylee’s team had the chance to shoot a basket, they passed her the ball. They all worked together to make sure that she had a shot. And my dad’s girls even noticed and backed away playing defense, giving Kaylee some open space to shoot. You see, little Kaylee is really little, barely reaching 3 feet, and many of the girls she plays with and against are at least a foot taller than her.

She shot 3, 5, 7, 11, who knows how many baskets and was always a little bit short. So the coaches and refs lowered the hoop a little bit. And one of Kaylee’s coaches stood holding the basket. She took a shot with one minute left in the period she was playing and the coach leaned the basket forward a little bit and the shot went in. The crowd went crazy, both the home fans and away fans, jumping up and down and cheering for little Kaylee, who finally reached her goal.

It was a special moment, one I’ll probably never forget. And the moment connected with that came today, in church.
There was a special emphasis at our partner church today for Upward basketball and so my parents and I went there for morning service. Kaylee’s mom, Cindy is an organizer for Upward and shared a little something with this church that has allowed us to use their facilities every week and weekend for this amazing outreach program. So Cindy got up front, shared some statistics about Upward and then told this story of Kaylee. She explained how the coaches had helped Kaylee all along, even lifting her up at times so she could see what it was like to make a shot in practice. And finally, her coach gave that little extra push on Friday night so that Kaylee could make her first shot. She reached her goal.

And isn’t that what God does for us. He helps us along, lifts us up when we can’t make a basket and in the game, he leans the basket forward a little so that our shots go in. Even when we’re too short to make the basket, He helps us. His grace and his love provide a way for us to take part in his ministry, even when we fall short.

And I cried again. This story was another picture of God’s amazing love that he shows us each and every day in little ways. Sometimes I think I miss the love and gifts he gives me. Other days, they are so obvious.

I’m loving Sundays more and more. I’m loving God more and more.

Through these past 10 days, there’s been so many little things that God has used to show me how much he really loves me. And when I stop to think about all of the things and I add them up and I start to feel how much he loves me, I’m overwhelmed again and I find myself in tears most times, good tears.

One of these things that God used was a letter I was supposed to read when I was tired and exhausted during my time in Zambia. It was the one letter from a dear friend that I hadn’t read yet and I carried it with me during the four days I spent alone. There was a song in the letter, a song that my friend regularly sings and doesn’t always remember the words. So she found the words and wrote them down for me, and those words were ones I used to sing myself to sleep those nights I was alone.

*He is jealous for me,
Loves like a hurricane, I am a tree,
Bending beneath the weight of his wind and mercy.
When all of a sudden,
I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory,
And I realize just how beautiful You are,
And how great Your affections are for me.

Yeah, He loves us,
Oh how He loves us,
How He loves us, so.

We are His portion and He is our prize,
Drawn to redemption by the grace in His eyes,
If His grace is an ocean, we’re all sinking.
So Heaven meets earth like a sloppy wet kiss,
And my heart turns violently inside my chest
I don’t have time to maintain these regrets,
When I think about the way…

Yeah, He loves us,
Oh how He loves us,
How He loves us, so.*

Thank you Jesus, for loving me in a way that I often don’t understand. Thank you for showing me that love through little kids’ smiles, through letters from home that mean more than the writer intended, for parents that are so willing to forgive, for second chances when I thought there would be none, for friends who want me home, and for using me even when I’m too short to make a basket.

God is good. All the time.

And all the time. God is good.

hamstring or quad

2009-02-16T04:49:00.001-08:00

Okay, ready?
Stupid Marge Moment in Africa #1

There’s this building right behind our house in our little compound that I believe is used for storage of some sort. It’s a simple square building with a flat roof. There’s a really strange makeshift ladder that is sometimes next to it and it also has a fireman-like pole attached to one side.

So anyways, Elijah and Bratcher have climbed up there several times to lie in the sun and relax and read and sleep and get some time to themselves. Leah went up there the other day as well. One night early this week, we made popcorn yet again and decided to sit outside and eat and look at the stars, which when the nights are clear are incredible. And in order to see the stars and moon better, we decided that we too wanted to climb up on top of this building.

Elijah helped us up using the ladder and we sat up there for a while and had a great time. The night was beautiful and the moon was full and it was great and relaxing.

The issue for me was getting down. Now, it seemed pretty simple. You just shimmy over the horizontal part of the fireman pole and slide down. There were two people on the ground spotting us, and it really wasn’t that hard to get down at all. I made it over and started sliding down and was doing great until, BAM, I hit this little spicket type thing that was sticking out of the side of the pole. Yes, I hit it with my thigh and it did not feel good. No one really told me it was there and I slammed right into it.

Moral of the story: Even in the dark, look before you slide down fireman poles for a spicket thing or you’ll end up with one beautiful bruise on the inside of your thigh for a good long time.

*Football player comes into the training room where Christi Church is working holding the front of his thigh and limping and maybe almost crying a little bit.

FP: I THINK I PULLED MY HAMSTRING!
CC: Um, that would be your quad. Your hamstring is the back of your leg.
FP: YEAH, YEAH. THAT’S WHAT I SAID, I THINK I PULLED MY QUAD!

Christi and I laugh about this for a long long time.*

matching choirs

2009-02-11T05:08:00.000-08:00

I think Sundays are my favorite days. They kind of always have been. I have always loved church in the morning, a relaxing afternoon most likely with a nap, and fellowship of some kind at night, with dad’s popcorn for dinner. Sundays here aren’t that different than my Sundays at home. Granted, church is longer here, but the afternoon is relaxing and really nice with our Vesper service and Kara and I had popcorn for dinner last night.

Church in Africa is different than anywhere else I’ve been. And I’m learning to love it. In the States, church is fast and then everyone leaves. In Central and South America, church is long and everyone sits down and talks after the service. In Africa, church is wonderful. Our team has been split into three different groups and we go to three different churches. So Kara, Audrey, Brandon and Michael and I go to Mochipapa church, right next to the current World Hope offices. We go to Sunday school at 9 and normally the Vice Pastor teaches the lesson. Lately we’ve been talking about Abraham and how he was wiser by faith. They also asked the question, “should the church choose spouses for the youth?” which has been an interesting discussion both in and outside of church in our group. By about 10:15, everyone has come and the church is getting full, we start a time of singing and dancing. There is a different worship leader every week and they lead us through different songs and times of prayer, as well as offering. There are two choirs, one with 6 or 7 ladies called the Queen Esther choir and one with probably 30 people in it. They provide special music throughout the time of singing. There is also a praise team with around 15 people in it that gets up and leads us in worship choruses. This is normally my favorite part because we all get up and dance. It’s so freeing to dance in church. I think that’s my favorite thing here, the dancing. They also take offering during one of the songs. After a little over an hour, the pastor gets up and preaches for about an hour. Sometimes it’s longer, like last week, when we didn’t get out of there until one, I think. And then, as we exit, everyone stands in a line and shakes everyone else’s hand. It’s so nice because you get to see and somewhat meet everyone in the church every week. Vespers in the afternoon allows us to sing some of our favorite songs, ones that we know the words to, and read scripture and pray together. It is more relaxed but still pretty powerful and really nice since the students are the ones that set it up every week.

Prayer of St. Francis of Assissi (We used this during Vespers and it’s been something I’m thinking about a lot this week)

Make me a channel of your peace.
Where there is hatred let me bring your love;
Where there is injury your pardon, Lord;
And where’s there’s doubt true faith in you.
Make me a channel of your peace.
Where there’s despair in life let me bring hope;
Where there is darkness, only light;
And where there’s sadness, ever joy.
Oh, Master grant that I may never seek
So much to be consoled as to console;
To be understood as to understand;
To be loved as to love with all my soul.
Make me a channel of your peace.
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
In giving to all men that we receive;
And in dying that we’re born to eternal life.

Both the choirs and the praise team at church try to all match every week. One time, the praise team all wore red shirts. Yesterday, the Queen Esther choir had matching chitenges, shirts and hats and the other choir all wore blue polos and black skirts or pants. It was pretty sweet.

the end is not the end

2009-02-06T06:00:00.000-08:00

Random updates:
- I’m still entering African names and other information into the system for the WHIZ staff. Yikes, I totally thought I’d be done by now, but there’s lots of names. My favorite ones so far have been Fridge and Controller. It’s pretty sweet.
- I’m still blowing my nose a lot. And as Nick says, “Aren’t we all.” Yeah, 14 people in a small house, should have expected that.
- Housemates: I probably will come back with worms. Get over it. I’ll get deworming medicine before I leave.
- Mom, I have exciting news: I am a pro speed scrabble player. I challenge you to a game when I get home. It’s so fun.
- We get really excited about chocolate and cookies and popcorn here.
- I’m on page 745.
- It’s still really warm, and I’m still getting sunburned.

Alright, on a more serious note, there’s some things about Africa that have been breaking my heart and making me think. It’s fun being here, but not always easy.

AIDS: I find myself staring AIDS in the face every day here. And that’s not really a bad thing. But I’ve realized how little I know about the entire epidemic, both here in Zambia as well as everything that surrounds AIDS in America. I’ve probably encountered AIDS more times here than I even know. We’ve visited HIV+ and AIDS patients, and I’m not ever scared, but it’s just so different than anything I’ve ever run across in the states or other countries that I’ve been to before. I’m still not sure what I’m supposed to do about it. Maybe I’m not supposed to do anything. I don’t know, and right now I’m okay with not knowing.

HOPE: Despite everything that these people have been through and continue to go through, there is still so much hope. I get too caught up in things that don’t matter when I’m living with too many material things. I lose hope quickly. I get short-sighted. But I know more now. And the question that I’ve been asking myself lately is, what am I going to do about it when I leave? What am I going to do about it 5, 10 or 20 years down the road? Africa will still be with me, in one way or another. What am I going to do about it?

*And we were soldiers then – our bodies in the sand
And like that sand through our hands – go our grandest plans
And just to see your face for one moment
I’d cross the ocean again
The end is not the end
And I’ll be by your side on the other side
I’ll be by your side on the other side

And through the cloud of death – we’d find our way back home
And though I hold your hand – all must go alone
And when you see the face of our maker
You don’t have to be ashamed
He knows the promises we made
And I’ll be by your side on the other side
I’ll be by your side on the other side*

By Your Side – House of Heroes (thanks, kid)

hair

2009-02-05T04:58:00.001-08:00

So, I'm officially taking a survey. Should I or should I not get dreds this weekend? It would make life real easy and I was going to cut my hair short anyway when I got home. What do you guys think?

how to talk to girls

2009-01-28T06:19:00.000-08:00

Day 18 and being sick in Africa has officially set in. It’s just a head cold, but I don’t sound too great and my nose will not stop running which is just really annoying. I also cough quite a bit and that’s just not fun at all.

So while the teams went out with the WHIZ staff yesterday to some different trusts, I stayed back and did office work. All over Zambia last year there were about 2600 people in primary school (grades 5-9) and in different communities that went through the Abstinence and Being Faithful program. They have all of the class lists from the local schools that are handwritten and bound together in this little book. So what did I get to do? Yep, you guessed it. I plopped myself down in an office chair at a computer and began to enter all of those names and ages and schools and whatever other information they needed. It gave me a lot of time to think and it was interesting seeing all the different names of kids across the country.

I finally went to town with Melinda the other day and we walked around. I bought a pair of shoes that I can hopefully wear with everything and they were pretty inexpensive. I also bought some chitenge material and we can have skirts made by the women of the community and help out the trusts with their projects so I am hoping to have that done too. The material here is so colorful and fun. Our style is way too boring in America sometimes.

The students are still reading a lot. You do that when you have no television at all. We sit on the porch in the amazing weather and watch the rain. We eat our amazing meals together all the time. We truck down to where the Garners are staying to get on the internet when it works. We have loud and interesting discussions. We sleep whenever we can. We share thoughts in devotions and pray together every night. And I couldn’t have asked for a better group of students to live with for three months. How blessed am I to be here.

Ethan is our resident storyteller. For the first week we were here, he read us a chapter every night from the nine year old author Alec Greven’s first book, How to Talk to Girls.

chitenge stall

2009-01-24T00:17:00.000-08:00

Well, I’ve found myself reading a lot. The students are being very studious and so I can’t have any fun without them. Besides, I’m trying to fulfill a life goal in reading the unabridged version of Les Miserables. So now, out of 1463, I’m on page 428 and I keep on trucking through. Although, I’m still amazed at how Victor Hugo could write 59 pages on the Battle of Waterloo. Oh well, he was getting paid by the word.

We had class Wednesday and today and they both went extremely well. It’s fun to sit back and hear from the students and see their ideas come out when they talk together. I hope they are learning. It seems to me like they are.

Thursday was another day of adventure. We did a trust visit as a group and traveled up to Nakabanga. At one point, I got to ride ON TOP of the land cruiser with Bratcher and it was beyond fun, like, I can’t even describe it to you. It was that amazing.

But anyways, Nakabanga. It will be hard to find another group of people so incredibly welcoming. They were beautiful people, so full of joy and so happy to have us there with them for the day. It was just wonderful. They taught me how to make cabbage, and it’s pretty good. They made shima for us (the staple food of Zambia) and also cooked up some chicken and goat. Goat is really dark meat by the way and quite chewy but it has a pretty good flavor. We played with the kids, did some work on their piggery and also paid a visit to two different families.

This is where it got hard again. We saw so much joy in the faces of these people as we spent the morning with them. But our moods changed when we visited a little girl of seven who has been sick her entire life. I can’t imagine never being able to run or play with other kids. Never going to school because you simply never feel good. It was heart wrenching, again. Heartache and joy go hand in hand most days here. There’s no getting away from that.

We visited another mother who was 26 and a widow. She had just lost one of her three children and was in the hospital for several weeks. Now she’s living with her other two children and goes many days without food simply because they have nothing. We brought them some ingredients for shima and some sugar, but it still doesn’t feel like enough. Most days, I find myself wishing I could do more.

This morning we had class and this afternoon we visited the work site and pitched in where we could. I was painting some window shutters when one of the workers started working and painting close to me. The following is our conversation.

Him: What is your name?
Me: Margie, and yours?
Him: Fred. How old are you?
Me: 21, and you?
Fred: 23. What are you guys doing here?
Me: Working with World Hope. We came from the university in America.
A few moments of silence
Fred: Are you married?
Me: No.
Fred: Are you single?
Me: Yes.
Fred: I am looking for a partner.
Me: Oh really?
Fred: Yes.
Me: Well, I’ll keep an eye out for you.

Then we had to leave to go hang out with the World Hope staff. I could not stop laughing though, it was so funny. My first proposal. What do you guys think?

Chitenges are pieces of fabric that women wear that can be used for anything, including bathroom stalls when you have to pee in the bush.

pink toilet paper

2009-01-21T00:15:00.000-08:00

We have yet to have a day where we get to “sleep in.” On Saturday we had a guest lecturer from the University of Zambia, located in Lusaka, come and speak to us about Community Development. The rest of the day was quite relaxing. I parked it on the front porch with a blanket, some music and Les Miserables and read all day. (Mom, I am now on page 173 and the students all think I’m crazy but they all think I can finish it before the trip is over!)

On Sunday we split into our church groups and went to church. I am attending Mochipapa church for the entire time we are here and so my team and I went and worshipped with the congregation. Sunday school starts around 9 and the service normally goes from 10-12 or 12:30. Some of my favorite things about church are the choir (they all wore red shirts this Sunday), how we all get to dance, and how they pray. During worship and pray time, everyone prays out loud at the same time. And they pray with such sincerity. Most times I just stand and listen while everyone pours their hearts out to God. It’s one of the best things I’ve ever heard.

We were all invited to Bible Study at one of the church member’s home Sunday afternoon. Most of the kids had schoolwork to do, but Michael and I went with the vice pastor of the church. It was basically an extension of the sermon, a chance for people to sit around and discuss and talk about what the sermon was about. It reminded me a little of Exit 59 and the Sunday school like group that met after church to talk about the sermon. It was nice. One thing though that is very different is that in the Zambian culture, everyone is very soft spoken, and silence within groups is extremely common. So there were points during the Bible study when it felt a little awkward to an American, but in reality, it was a perfect picture of their culture.

We had to make our first trip to the doctor that is down the street from us. Elijah (I knew he’d be the first one to have to go) has had different red marks all over and we’re pretty sure now he’s allergic to mangoes and our mango tree that we have. (Yes, we have a mango tree, and they are amazing! We eat them all the time.)

Monday morning we did some home visits with the Home Based Care branch of World Hope. We had been briefed about these, but I know no one was fully prepared for what we really saw. We drove out into the villages, where people live in little compounds in huts and there are kids running all over the place. They chased after our car yelling, muguwa! Muguwa! (white person) We are used to it by now, everywhere we go, people, especially kids, are yelling muguwa.

We visited two homes. At the first, we met a young mother who found out she was HIV+ in 2000. Since then, she has had two children. But her husband and children don’t live with her and her mother is her caretaker. She barely looked at us and wouldn’t really answer any of our questions. We talked with her mother a little bit and then sang a song and read some Scripture to her. Leaving was hard because we really had no guarantee that visiting was worthwhile. I know it was in my mind, but that doesn’t take away the things you feel. From the moment I walked in, all I wanted to do was give her a hug. But they don’t hug in Zambia, and I knew it wasn’t appropriate. It was just hard to see, as are so many things here.

The second person we visited was an older guy who was so welcoming and couldn’t wait to share his story with us. He knew English and so he told us everything and even showed us his medicine and log book of when he takes everything. He is currently living alone, but has a sister that checks in one him a few times a week. After he got sick, his wife left him, which is unfortunately an extremely common occurrence regarding HIV and AIDS. It breaks your heart to watch people go through so many trials and not even have a support system. That is why this Home Based Care system is so important. They try to visit the clients at least once a week and provide them with comfort and hope.

It’s hard to look some of this stuff straight in the face and wonder how people survive. I guess I’m not as strong as I thought I was. I don’t think I could handle going through the many things that these people go through. And yet they trust God and have hope in him. It’s amazing. These people amaze me and put me to shame all at the same time. I have so much to learn.

Mrs. Bota is the most amazing housekeeper and cook ever. She has done a wonderful job at taking care of us day in and day out. Monday was her birthday and so we bought her some cooking pots and a gift certificate so that she could buy something for herself. The look on her face was priceless and she hugged us all afterwards. It was such a fun moment and blessing to be able to give her a gift for all the hard work she’s done for us.

It rained all night Monday night and we were supposed to travel out to the trusts on Tuesday to do a few more assessments for World Hope. We all piled in the bus but soon got a report that the roads were going to be too bad to take the bus. So we all quickly piled into two land cruisers and headed out. After riding in the back of a truck all summer long, I was looking forward to a little adventure. And that is exactly what I got. I sat with several of the guys in the trunk of the land cruiser and had so much fun. We plowed through huge puddles and put on the four wheel drive in order to drive through a river. Not kidding, it was one of the coolest things I have ever done. I’ll put up some pictures as soon as I can for all of you.

The trusts were good for us to experience and we also got a chance to stop by Pemba Pilgrim Wesleyan Bible College and view the campus. I think they have 26 students right now, most of which are married and their families also live with them on campus. It is a three year program and missionary couples often teach the students which come from all over Africa.

More later. I promise.

We use pink toilet paper here.

tomato soup

2009-01-16T04:02:00.000-08:00

I am incredibly unworthy.

We made it to Zambia. Almost a week ago, in fact. Life has just been so crazy that I haven’t had time to blog and tell the world about what’s going on. So grab your cup of coffee and an oatmeal chocolate chip cookie or two and sit in your most comfortable chair for a while.

I have never been on a plane that long in my entire life. We traveled for three days straight, got on four airplanes, the best bus ride of my life, saw the mist of Victoria Falls from the airplane and slept whenever and wherever we could. The most amazing blessing was sitting in the 69th row, which was also the last, on the airplane from Amsterdam to Johannesburg. Four seats for me and another student so I got to LAY DOWN and sleep and it was so wonderful.

It felt so good to land in Zambia, see Chief Jeff Johnson (Community Health something for World Hope) and Maureen (an amazing World Hope International Zambia employee) waiting for us and load up to drive three hours from Livingstone to Choma. We stopped in Zimba (about half-way) to visit a missionary at the local Wesleyan mission and give us a little break.

We reached Choma around 6 at night and finally got to see where we will be living, for a little while at least. The building we were supposed to be staying at is not done, so we are currently in temporary housing. This “temporary housing” involves Dr. Garner and his wife staying with Jeff in a house near the WHIZ offices and the other 14 of us crammed together in a little house with three bedrooms and only one shower! The students, though, have been more than incredible at being flexible and willing to go and do whatever. And really, for the most part, they have gotten along extremely well.

Sunday was our first full day in Choma and we all went to the Mochipapa church, where I will be staying with four other students for the rest of the semester. The people were incredible and it was another reminder to me that worship in another country is always better to me than a normal Sunday in America. We heard some of the Sunday school service, danced during worship and attempted to sing in Tonga. It was wonderful and all of the students loved the experience.

It got me emotional again, big surprise. And I was reminded of something that someone told me during Christmas break. In America, the motto is, “I think, therefore I am.” And that’s what I was living. But as I prepared to come on this trip and now being here for a few days, I’ve come to see that this man was right when he said that Africa’s motto is, “I feel, therefore I am.” I realized that it’s time for me to feel, really feel, again. I’ve been broken before, but I have this feeling that Africa, in all of its glory and suffering, is going to break me again.

Monday was spent allowing the World Hope staff to train us and explain the different departments that they work in. It was long, but I was blown away by their organization and their passion for the people of this country. Chief Jeff claims that these people are his heroes, and I totally see it now.

Thanks to Mr. Tolley, the book of James always comes back to haunt me, and it did again on Monday as one of the committees shared their theme verse with us.

“Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.”
James 1:27

On Tuesday we were trained as to how to go out into the community and assess the 75 trusts that WHIZ is in charge of. The afternoon gave us some time to relax and play with some kids here at the compound who are incredibly beautiful.

God had been pressing on my heart to be completely open with these students. For relationships to be built, openness is key. So Tuesday night I was thinking about what I was going to share with the students later in the week when Jeff asked who wanted to share with the whole WHIZ staff the next morning. I kept my mouth shut, but when I do that God always uses someone to call me out. So Ethan (this team’s James Davenport), volunteered me to lead devotions for everyone the next morning, and I knew that God wanted me to talk to everyone, not just the IWU team.

So Wednesday morning, I did the devotions for everyone, and I have to admit I was a little nervous. I simply shared what God had placed on my heart, how no matter where we live, we all experience suffering. Despite all of the suffering we may endure, God is still ALWAYS faithful. Since then, several people have told me that what I said made an impact. It’s a humbling thing, being used by God. Many days, I feel so unworthy.

Thursday was EARLY. I’ve been doing really well at giving myself time in the morning to read and gather my thoughts for the day, but we were on the bus a little before 7 on Thursday morning. We went back to Zimba for the day to help the WHIZ staff with some of their trust assessments. So we loaded on the bus and drove along this amazingly bumpy road (my personal favorites if I’m not driving) and my team stopped at a small church in Dunka village to meet with the workers there.

These people were incredible. They have next to nothing, but they use all of their resources to help each other. The trust has started a piggery and will use the funds from that to start a garden, help send kids to school, and gather resources so that they can make home visits more often. It’s amazing the commitment you see in the villages from the people. They care so much for everyone around them. They are the true pictures of community.

We had some time to kill because of the rain and so they got out the drums and we sang and danced with them for a long time. It was also the right time for two of the pigs to mate, so we saw some real-life discovery channel action. As I danced there in the church with them, I had another one of those, “I’m never going to forget this” moments. God is so good.

Today we finally got around to doing some classwork. Nothing real strenuous, some relaxation and time to process and wind down after a crazy first week.

It became extremely clear last night as I sat on our Tonga stool and was prayed for how incredibly blessed I am. God has taken me through a whirlwind journey in the past four years to bring me to this point, with these insanely wonderful people, to serve him. It is amazing to look back and see his hand guiding my steps, both hard and joyful.

He is faithful.

When it rains, the ground looks like tomato soup.

one week

2009-01-01T21:58:00.001-08:00

One week is all that separated me from two dear friends. I put them on a plane today for a crazy four month adventure in Dubai, knowing full well that had Africa never worked out, I would have had my passport in hand and said goodbye and gone through security to some B gate in the Port Columbus airport with them.

But for some reason, there is exactly one week between our different flights to different places where God is going to use us in different ways.

I have no way to describe how I felt as I hugged Emma and Anna today and stood there watching them as they walked through security. It was a different and strange feeling knowing that the next time I see both of them, all three of us are going to be completely different people.

I think I am okay with that.

“How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go on, when in your heart, you begin to understand, there is no going back?” - Frodo

that sense of pride

2008-12-27T20:32:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I forget that my grandparents fought for me. Literally.

They lived through the Second World War. My grandpa served. I guess I forget sometimes because I don't hear as many of those stories as I do so many others. But tonight, for some reason, as I drove my grandparents to dinner, they started sharing stories. Of what happened, of people they knew, of how history should be taught differently to kids today (which I totally agree with) and of how proud we should all be of our country.

And yet, I still sat there in the car not quite proud of America. They seem so sure of their country. I'm not there yet. I'm not sure if I'm going to get there. I've seen too much of what America does, of what I as an American do to the rest of the world. I can't be 100% proud right now.

This is the global generation. A guy I met last night told me that this generation is more interested in missions than any previous generation. I wonder why. Is it the easy access? The ability to communicate home so frequently? Is it the internet?

I won't say my generation is the same as my grandparents. They've gone through so many hard things. I've seen so many hard things.

Is it wrong to not be wholly proud of my country?

I'm not sure.

But I think for now, I'll side with Derek Webb when he says that he serves a King and a Kingdom. I know that I am proud of that.

easter

2008-12-24T20:38:00.001-08:00

I can’t help thinking about Easter this year at Christmastime.

Sidenote - I’ve been crazy emotional lately and I have no clue why. I’m pretty sure I’ve cried every day for the past week. Granted, I have seen a sad movie (The Boy in the Striped Pajamas), I have heard Chris Rayis sing his heart out at church, and it is Christmas. But I still don’t understand the emotions I’m feeling. Maybe it’s because two weeks from Christmas day, I’ll board a plane for the first of four flights to Zambia for three months. Maybe it’s because I just graduated from college and know I’ll most likely never live at IWU with those people again. I have no clue what’s going on, but I have a feeling it’s contributing to this thing I have with Easter at Christmastime this year.
(that was a long sidenote… sorry)

My favorite season used to be Christmas. That has changed. It is now Easter. Easter is a wonderful celebration for everyone. It marks the coming of summer. So the common theme running through my head this season as I listen to Christmas sermons and go to Candlelight services is that Christmas was the beginning. Christmas exists because it was the beginning of Jesus here on Earth. I understand the importance, but it’s just the beginning and Easter is the ultimate goal.

So here’s to Christmas. Here’s to the birth of my Savior, who was born in a manger, wrapped in swaddling clothes and died on a cross and then rose again 33 years after his birth at Easter for me and you and everyone. We go through Christmas to get to Easter. Here’s to Christmas.

blessed to be here

2008-12-13T19:57:00.000-08:00

how blessed am i to have people that have been through this three and a half year journey with me...

the stoop down challenge

2008-12-08T18:21:00.001-08:00

I just finished reading The Poisonwood Bible, by Barbara Kingsolver. There’s no doubt it tops my Most Influential Books list, which I’ve been meaning to post for a while. I haven’t stopped thinking about it. It plays into so many aspects of my life, with leadership and missions and preparing to live in Africa for three months next year. Maybe it’s good I can’t stop thinking about it.

Nathan Price never cared enough about the people of Kilanga to stoop down and meet them on their level. He wanted to implement “American Christianity” on this culture that was so different. It would never have worked. He didn’t bother to learn that the water scared them. He didn’t care enough to pronounce the word bangala so that it would mean “precious” instead of “poisonwood.”

He NEVER stooped down, and he never even realized that some of his girls did, and that they had a more effective ministry than he could even dream of having in this jungle of Africa.

Isn’t that the same danger with me? I carry “American Christianity” around in my pocket. I will soon be carrying a bachelors degree in Intercultural Studies and Leadership around in my pocket. But it’s all worthless unless I stoop down and meet people where they are. They could be Africans next semester or the girls I live with right now. It could be my family or my closest friends. When I hold an air of superiority because I have this degree buried somewhere in my house, my credibility shrinks to nothing. If I don’t stoop down and care about people first, my message will be lost.

So here’s the stoop down challenge for everyone. May we seek first to understand, and then to be understood. May we listen instead of saying, “you’re wrong” right off the bat. May we stoop down like Ruth May, and Paul and Jesus, and all the other great servants. May we forget our education for a second and appreciate the people around us for who they are, and where they’ve come from.

May we love.

still standing

2008-12-07T20:35:00.000-08:00

Dear Father,
Thank you for forgiveness in the form of an unexpected hug. Thank you for people that mean more to me than I ever realized.

*when the world is falling out from under me
i'll be found in you
still standing*

grandma susie

2008-12-02T20:23:00.001-08:00

I’m thinking about saying goodbye, or hagone (see you later) in Navajo. You see, there’s not many days left here, in this place I’ve called home for three and a half years. And now it’s time to move on, go forward, make my own way, leave my own trail.

In Arizona, they are deliberate with goodbyes. I remember the last day of church. They had all four of us stand up and talk, say thank you to the congregation, tell about what we learned, and then say hagone.

And we went to every single person, shook their hand or gave them a hug and said thank you. And I got to Grandma Susie, and she hugged me and started crying. And so I started crying. And she thanked me for cooking all summer, told me how much she loved to cook, and prayed for me. It was one of the most special hugs I ever received. And after the service, she gave me her frybread recipe. Grandma Susie’s frybread recipe. It was probably one of the most special gifts I’d ever received.

Someday, I hope I get to tell Grandma Susie thank you. Not just thanks for the recipe or the hug, but thanks for letting me be a part of the family, thanks for teaching me more than just how to cook, thanks for letting me stand right next to her and hold down the sheep while she cuts the throat, thanks for the love she poured into everything.

I also wish that I could show the family how many times I’ve cooked frybread. I wish they knew that not a day goes by that I don’t think of them. I wish I could tell them that this Christmas, we’re having Navajo tacos, and that I will constantly be thinking of them.

Thank you, Grandma Susie.

closing a chapter

2008-11-20T11:07:00.001-08:00

Everyone knows the analogy that our life is like a book and different events and time periods constitute as chapters. Life up until Jr. High is a chapter. Jr. High is normally its own horrible chapter, high school is another, and I’m getting ready to finish another chapter entitled college.

9 days. That’s pretty much all I have left. That’s not to say I don’t have a few large papers and tests within the next 9 days, but still, 9 days? Am I really that close? I’m writing the last few paragraphs of this chapter, and soon, very soon, it will be done. I’ll move on to the next chapter, to that next phase of my life where the clan will see me as a “real” person and I have to step up and get a job or something like that. But as I finish up, I’ll reminisce. I remember the good (and bad) times, I’ll think about the amazing people I’ve met, the incredible opportunities I’ve had, and the ways in which I’ve grown into this woman God has created.

It’s gone fast. Ask any college student, and they’ll tell you that it feels like the days fly by, the semesters are over before we know it, and soon, we’re all standing in our ugly black gowns with these ridiculous cardboard hats staring at what lies before us. And maybe we still feel a little unprepared. Maybe we wish we had just a little more time to learn a few more things. Or maybe we’re so ready to leave, even though we know in our heads that three and a half or four years doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of everything we “need” to know in life.

So we walk off of the college bubble campus with our little degrees and admit that we’re still a little clueless. I’m not even close to knowing what my parents know. Maybe someday I’ll get there. Maybe someday I’ll be as wise as my mom. But for right now, as life decisions smack me in the face, I’ll seek out those who’ve been there. I’ll not rely on my own measly “education” and instead look to the source of strength that got me this far and will carry me in the future. God knows my future. So even when I get that dreaded question, I can still feel at peace with the idea that I will be in the “real world” in less than a month.

I’ll enjoy these 9 days, and know that God’s guiding me forward into the next crazy chapter of my life.

what i really want for christmas

2008-11-13T15:15:00.000-08:00

I gave my mom my Christmas list. The things that were on it are inconsequential. They don't matter at all today.

What I wish for today is wisdom, for my friends as well as me. There have been more moments in this last week where I wish I had something to say to a broken-hearted friend than I ever remember having before. In the words of Emma, "we all suck." And there are days where that rings true. I have seen the hearts that we have for each other in the past few weeks, and yet, we are all still powerless to make a difference unless we pray, unless we look to the one that changes lives.

It's not easy, being a good friend. Wisdom doesn't just come. You have to chase after it.

I just wish today, that I knew what to say and when to say it. I wish I knew when to offer chocolate and when to leave someone alone. I wish I always knew exactly what to do.

But I'm an imperfect person. I don't always know. And yet, that doesn't discredit the fact that I love these people in my life with everything that I am.

So, Father, teach me what to say and how to comfort the way you do. Because I'm sick and tired of the hurt and the pain and the not-knowing. Help me and all those I love to look to you first.

dear obama

2008-11-06T10:07:00.001-08:00

Maybe I didn’t know whom I wanted to win the election. Maybe I’m still not sure how I feel about the changes you want to make to this country. But maybe, I then remember that change can be a good thing. And so, future President of my country, I want you to know that I am praying for you. I have felt a little helpless about the whole political situation for a few years. And yet, I have slacked in the one thing that I could do, pray. But no more. Obama, I may not agree with you but I promise you this, I will pray for you. I know my God is still in control. He can work through you or in spite of you. I don’t want you to fail. I want to see good change. And I pray that that is exactly what you will try to bring about.
I’m not going to sugarcoat it for you. I’m disenchanted with America. And yet, I know that this country has provided me with incredible opportunities. So, as I spend your first three months of office in one of the poorest and AIDS wracked countries in the world, I will remember where I am from and that you are know the President, and I will be praying for you.

Sincerely,
The red-headed Navajo

chris rayis and little kids

2008-11-04T09:42:00.000-08:00

I’ve had this conversation with my mom. That conversation where you talk about music, and how it’s so strange that we can remember the exact words to songs when they come on the radio or a cd player, even if it’s been years since we’ve heard them. It’s crazy as to what strange memory ability our brain has. When you hear songs that you know you know, that you haven’t heard in a while, it’s like a little piece of the past. It’s safe, it’s comfortable, it’s nice.

Songs hold emotional value for me. I attach them to things, to people, to how I felt when I first heard them. Songs are special. They’re more than words. Sometimes they mean more than words. They take you back somewhere to a specific moment in time and help you remember.

This summer held a great many number of songs for me. Most were fun, there were a few that were serious, and I will always associate certain things to Arizona. But the week I came home, I went to church and sat in my seat next to my parents for another “typical” service. And then, Chris Rayis started playing, and singing.

It was a well-known song, and I think I’d heard it before, but I never stopped to listen. That’s when songs take root for me, when I stop to listen. And so that Sunday in August, back home in Ohio after a long and wonderful summer, I listened to Chris. I love this kid. I love the way he plays and sings with everything he has. He touched my heart that day, and I could not keep tears from coming. He sang “Come to Jesus.” The simplicity of the song and the words struck such a different chord from the chaos of the summer. It hit home. Come to Jesus.

I was taken back to that moment this weekend, as I watched and heard a different group of little people sing this song. I took a much needed road trip with Emma to Grand Rapids to visit our dear friend Anna at Calvin. And at Anna’s church on Sunday, this wonderful group of elementary kids stood bravely in front of the church and sang the exact same song. I couldn’t help myself. Again, the tears rolled down my face as I watched their innocent little hands do the motions and listened to their amazing little voices as they sang as passionately as Chris does. It was incredible. It was emotional. And I remembered that in spite of the craziness of graduation and looking forward to Africa and writing a crazy number of papers, and thinking about different people in my life, that what I need to do is crawl back to my Jesus and rest in His arms. And I won’t do that just today, but everyday, until I kiss the world goodbye.

*weak and wounded sinner, lost and left to die
raise your head for love is passing by
come to Jesus, come to Jesus, come to Jesus, and live

now your burden’s lifted and carried far away
his precious blood has washed away the stain
so sing to Jesus, sing to Jesus, sing to Jesus, and live

like a newborn baby, don’t be afraid to crawl
remember when you walk, sometimes we fall
so fall on Jesus, fall on Jesus, fall on Jesus, and live

sometimes the way is lonely and steep and filled with pain
so if your sky is dark and pours the rain
they cry to Jesus, cry to Jesus, cry to Jesus, and live

when the love spills over and music fills the night
and when you can’t contain your joy inside
then dance for Jesus, dance for Jesus, dance for Jesus, and live

with your final heartbeat, kiss the world goodbye
then go in peace and laugh on glory’s side
and fly to Jesus, fly to Jesus, fly to Jesus, and live

fly to Jesus, fly to Jesus, fly to Jesus, and live*

Thank you, Chris Rayis, for the CD you made earlier this year and for recording Come to Jesus. It has been a great comfort to me this year. You have a wonderful talent, and I have no doubt that God is going to use you for his glory with that wonderful gift.

the major award

2008-10-23T20:00:00.000-07:00

According to my dad, tonight I won a major award. Although I did not receive a leg lamp, which we all know is the true major award, tonight was still an honor I am trying to believe really happened.

I received the Servant Leadership Award along with two others tonight. As I sat there and listened to their acceptance speeches, I realized how blessed I am, to have had the opportunity to serve in the crazy ways I have. God is so good, and it’s simply an honor to live my life completely for him.

For those that are interested, the following was my acceptance speech…

*I have recently been thinking about who the real heroes are in a few of my favorite stories. The main characters are the ones who get all the publicity. But the background characters are often the ones that make the most difference. Like the Bishop in Les Miserables. Without the influence he had on Jean ValJean, there wouldn’t have been any sort of redemption story at all. Like Sam in the Lord of the Rings. Without Sam’s service and loyalty, Frodo would have never even made it out of the Shire, much less all the way to Mordor to destroy the ring. And like the faithful who traveled with the apostle Paul on his journeys, and who were often imprisoned with him as well.
I spent this past summer working for Experience Mission on the Navajo reservation in Arizona where my personal job responsibilities included cooking for the short-term teams that came in and bussing kids back and forth from Kids Club. I learned more about service there than I have in almost any other place. This was not a flashy job, but I did have experiences that were beyond anything I could have ever imagined.
Arizona taught me that a life of constant service is not easy, that the day in and day out things like washing dishes are not always fun, that people may criticize how you serve instead of always appreciating the fact that you’re serving. Perseverance is required. Remembering the God you serve over the imperfect people you serve is key. Although the days were long and hard, they were also incredibly rewarding. There is something wonderful in forgetting about ourselves to serve others. I find myself still thinking about Arizona and missing it more than I realized I would. Through serving, I left a part of my heart there. And as I’ve had time to look back and reflect, I see that I’m ready to go out again, to serve without having to think about myself, to watch others succeed.
One day as we hiked down into the canyon in Arizona, we all talked about which characters in Lord of the Rings we would choose to be if we got to pick. The boys all picked the warriors like Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli, One of my fellow teammates wanted to hold a big stick and be Gandalf. And I told everyone that I would be Sam.
There’s a part of me that’s always known I would be the best friend in a story. I’m simply not the main character type. Please, stick me behind the scenes. I have found that I can still lead there. That is, in fact, where I thrive as a leader. Servant leaders aren’t always the ones out front. So I want to be the one in the back giving hope, the one picking my friends up when they fall down. The one pushing others out the door.
I have begun to see servant leaders in those people that are often overlooked. The ones who work behind the scenes, who do the little everyday things that really make a difference in people’s lives. God has continuously shown me over the past few years that it’s in the little things, in baking cookies for someone, in listening to friends when you don’t really have the time, in doing something out of your way to make someone feel special, that you truly begin to serve and also learn how to lead out of those acts of service.
I wish I could list and thank all the servant leaders in my life. The people that have stood behind me as I have faced different challenges. The people that have helped me step out of the Shire with the ring I have to carry. My parents top the list with their ultimate support for me, but there have also been professors and great friends who have pushed me beyond my limits to step out and learn and grow in who I am in Christ and as a servant leader.
So, thank you, mom and dad, for your never-ending support and encouragement and for allowing me to follow God wholeheartedly, even when He takes me to crazy places. Thank you to all my professors sitting in this room who have always asked me the hard questions and forced me to go deeper on every level. Thank you Dr. Millard for providing me with opportunities to work with Experience Mission and also to travel to Africa for three months this coming spring. Thank you to my friends who have seen every step of my journey and have picked me up when I’ve fallen down. Often they’re the ones that give me that final push into the unknown. All of you have modeled the kind of servant leader that I aspire to be. And it is because of you that I am standing here today. I especially want to thank James and Sarah Tunney and the entire Tate family of the New Testament Indian Gospel Church in Inscription House, Arizona, where my donation went from this award, for making life both difficult and wonderful at the same time this summer. I also want to thank all of them in Arizona for including me in yet another family, and showing me a way of living and loving that I won’t ever forget.
I know without a doubt that I could not have done anything without the strength of God in my life. He has led me through ups and downs and been there for every step, in ways that no human support could be. It is because of his grace that I can freely accept the gift you all are giving me tonight. Thank you.*

I really want to thank my parents for coming tonight, and for Sarah Black and Emma who were also there to support me.

the paradigm shift

2008-10-07T14:50:00.000-07:00

I could have sworn life was going to be easy after Arizona. I kept telling people jokingly that my last semester of school and Zambia were going to feel like a piece of cake.

Ha. I was wrong. Again.

Simple fact: God changed me this summer. I’ve known this. I knew that I came to school this semester more confident, more sure of who I was and who God was shaping me to be. I can say that I know who I am. I know what I like and don’t like. I know my strengths. I know what I’m good at and what I’m not so good at.

What I didn’t know was that the American culture holds absolutely no appeal for me now.

God not only shaped me as a person for what He wants me to do. He changed my mind. He changed my worldview. He changed my thinking. He changed the way I look at learning, school, my friends and other people that I’ve never met.

This thinking fit the Navajo culture. It doesn’t quite fit the IWU one.

I have this strong urge to destroy the whole educational system and start over. That’s how frustrated I am. In some way, higher education teaches us to only be worried about ourselves. And that sucks. Life is so much better when we stop thinking about what we need to do for ourselves during the day and cook a meal for someone else or write a letter to our grandparents or have coffee and listen to other people’s experiences.

I’m NOT done learning. I never will be.

But I’m done with the classroom.

Hello, outside world. You hold more lessons for me than I could ever imagine.

looking out the window

2008-09-30T20:42:00.000-07:00

“We take expressways because we fear the cities and the poverty there” – Robert L. Green, author of The Urban Challenge: Poverty and Race

I’m still not a fan of downtown Columbus. There is this crazy irrational fear, even though it is not justified at all. The homes by Cooper Stadium always looked scary when I was a kid. That mission trip to the Short North was a huge step out of my comfort zone. And it was 30 minutes from my house.

How many people have I walked by who are living in poverty while going to Tree every day? How many people could I have helped? How many times did I focus my attention inside the car and never look to the world outside that was and is hurting so badly?

I was so used to Ohio. I thought everyone kind of lived like I did.

In Venezuela, I couldn’t stop looking out the window. The scenery was different. And the people were so different. I couldn’t help seeing everything; the good, the bad, and the ugly.

Every trip since then, I have continued to stare out the window. There is so much to see, so much to experience, and so many people that need help.

This urban poverty research is starting to get to me. It has ceased being a project and has me seriously thinking. Yeah, I’m a college student, but I can do something, can’t I?

I’m not taking the expressways. I’m looking out the window. Always.

going

2008-09-29T14:05:00.001-07:00

That’s it, I’m officially going to Africa. Zambia, specifically. For three months. God is so good, as are the people at IWU that are giving me this incredible opportunity.

Never in my wildest dreams did I think of going to Africa for extended periods of time. But God’s plans are always bigger than my own, and I have found, over the past month especially, that I do have a heart for this place. God has given me a heart for Africa, he has opened so many doors, and pushed me in so many directions. He has provided the resources for me to go, and taught me to be content when things were up in the air.

I’m so ready. Let’s go. I’m loving life, loving people, and loving Africa.

thank you, bethel

2008-09-21T20:53:00.001-07:00

The hospitality I experienced this weekend was more than I could ever ask for. I traveled up to bethel to see the EM people and make frybread for my boys.

It was better than I expected. There’s a sense of community at bethel that I’ve never seen before, even at iwu. And I got to be a part of it. Yon and Chris and Justine and everyone else welcomed me with open arms and were the perfect hosts.

It was so good to be with them again, to share Arizona stories and know that they understand who I am and what God did in each of us this summer. They’re like family. They’re just great.

So thank you, you three. And thank you bethel, for teaching me things I won’t ever forget, about community, about really sharing life together, and about how to have fun!

eggs benedict

2008-09-15T19:49:00.001-07:00

“…but you, you knew the real me. I didn’t. Benedict. I love eggs benedict. I hate all the other kinds of eggs. If I ride off into the sunset, I want my own horse.” – Runaway Bride

It took Julia Roberts four weddings that she ran away from to learn who she really was. And that’s what it was about, learning the real her, and not becoming who any of the men wanted her to be.

Fortunately for me, I didn’t have to run away from four weddings. After 21 years, I thought I had a fairly good grasp on myself. And then this summer hit, and God stretched me and made me give up all my ideas of home, and love and servanthood. And he showed me who I am in Him.

And now, as I was talking about different aspects of life today with Sara Lynn, I realized that I am perfectly content today with who God has made me to be. I know what I like. I know some of the desires God has given me. And I want to walk confident in that fact.

So whoever comes along is going to have to deal with the fact that I love to travel, that my heart lies with those in other cultures, that I love to cook, that I love my family, that God is number one, and that I am willing to go wherever He takes me.

If I ride off into the sunset, I may very well want my own horse.

lessons from the bungalow

2008-09-08T16:08:00.001-07:00

- Only most people think you’re a creep for butchering a sheep. Some of your best friends want to hear all about your crazy experiences.
- I still love cooking for others, and I make way too much for 5 people.
- Sarah Black is the most patient person I know.
- Alyson comes up with the best stories, and can make me laugh the same way Stephen can make me laugh.
- Coffee and tea overflow.
- People in Indiana and people in Arizona really aren’t that different.
- I live with 5 very brave girls.
- Even in the summer, Indiana is too cold and our house is always freezing.
- I miss Arizona.
- It takes God to get me up in the morning.
- Life is good, but my heart always hurts.
- I love our front porch, the kitchen, and the girls that occupy the living room.

I’m trying harder every day to get used to the fact that I’m finally here, in my last semester of college, living with these people one last time. I don’t want to miss it. I want to spend as much time with them as possible. These girls mean the world to me. They challenge me and they listen to me. There are days when I wonder why they love me. But God bless them, they’re the best.

the pieces of my heart

2008-08-29T10:35:00.000-07:00

I grew up in one place. I’ve lived in the same house for 20 years. My family was here, my friends were here, my church was here. Columbus, Ohio was really all I’d ever known. Until that day in August of 2005 when I moved away. It was two months at college before I came home again, and I realized that when I was at school, I missed home. And when I was home, I missed school. My heart was in both places, and at any given moment, I had to choose one place to be. I’m limited. I can only be one place at a time. All of us are like that. Yet both places began to feel like home.

It didn’t really make sense until this summer. Arizona became another home. The Navajos are my family now too, just like my family in Ohio and my family in Indiana. And coming back to Ohio made me see that there was a huge piece of my heart that stayed in Arizona. I’m not complete in any one place anymore. I’m always thinking about where I’m not and how those people are, because I miss them so much.

I felt somewhat empty after coming back. Like I’d poured myself out so much on the rez that it was hard to give more here. And there are very few people that will sit and listen to your hours and hours of stories and pictures and memories and laughs that defined your summer and changed you. I felt empty and drained.

Until the other night. I decided on the spur of the moment to go see Hillsong United in Indiana with a very dear friend. And as I was once again simply a part of the crowd, with music so loud that I felt it in my heart and couldn’t hear anyone around me sing, I found that God was filling up my heart again. He was taking the pieces and fitting parts of them back together. I was filled with love again and a desire to go out and serve Him more.

I still have pieces of my heart all over. Ohio. Indiana. Arizona. And now that I’m full again, who knows where else I’ll leave my heart in the future. God’s taking me somewhere. He’s using me for something. And I’ll take the adventure day by day and leave my heart where I go.

more leaps of faith

2008-08-17T21:14:00.000-07:00

There’s a simple beauty to Ohio. Maybe I’ve always taken it for granted, growing up here and all. But as I was pushed into free falling out of a plane today I noticed the patchwork quilt of green and cornfields that make up Xenia, Ohio.

Arizona never stopped being beautiful to me. Every time I walked out our front door I was reminded of where I was, how isolated we were, and how incredible it really is. Every time I went to the canyon, my breath was taken away by the sheer vastness of what God had done there. It wasn’t simple beauty. It was breathtaking.

And I’ve become convinced that you only see God’s true beauty when you take a leap of faith. Arizona was a huge leap of faith. I was clueless heading into this summer. But if I had known ahead of time every obstacle I would face, there’s a great chance I would have backed out and said, no thanks. Maybe it’s good that we don’t know where God is leading us or why. It’s only when those moments and situations come that you find out God has enough strength to help you through. All we have to do is take that first jump.

Before this summer, I highly doubt I would have said yes to an invitation to go skydiving. I kind of used to have this fear of heights. It didn’t take the Navajos long to find out our fears. And I’m not kidding when I say that they did everything in their power to make us face our fears head on. And so by the end of the summer, there wasn’t much that scared me anymore. And when Anna called and asked if I would jump out of a plane with her, I didn’t have to think twice. My fears will never again get in the way of seeing God’s beauty, whether it’s standing at the top of a canyon or seeing the patchwork quilt of Ohio while falling from the sky.

The only way to live is by leaping into life.

I'll come back when you call me

2008-08-11T20:26:00.000-07:00

*It started out as a feeling,
Which then grew into a hope
Which then turned into a quiet thought
Which then turned into a quiet word
And then that word grew louder and louder until it was a battle cry

I’ll come back when you call me
No need to say goodbye

Just because everything’s changing
Doesn’t mean it’s never been this way before
All you can do is try to know who your friends are
As you head off to the war
It could start on the dark horizon
And follow the light

You’ll come back when it’s over
No need to say goodbye
You’ll come back when it’s over
No need to say goodbye

Now we’re back to the beginning
It’s just a feeling and no one knows yet
But just because they can’t feel it too
Doesn’t mean that you have to forget
Let your memories grow stronger and stronger
Till they’re before your eyes

You’ll come back when they call you
No need to say goodbye
You’ll come back when they call you
No need to say goodbye*

The Call – Regina Spektor

This became my theme song for the summer after I saw Prince Caspian. I’ve seen Arizona as my own type of Narnia. While there were parts of it that were so much like my world, there was so much that was different. I faced different challenges, I was stretched in different ways. And when I learned my lesson, I had to board a plane and leave.

And that’s where I am now, in the Philadelphia airport, less than three hours from the place I call home. And a huge part of my heart is still on the rez. I think I knew it was going to be hard to leave, partly because, like in Narnia, you have no idea when you get to go back.

There’s no word for goodbye in Navajo. They simply say, “see you later.” I like that. That’s one Navajo tradition that I’m going to carry with me through my life. With Christians, no matter where and when, you never really have to say goodbye. You can simply say “see you later” and know that no matter what, it will hold true.

* I’ll come back when you call me – no need to say goodbye *

burned

2008-08-07T11:07:00.000-07:00

“The church is a whore, but she is my mother” - St. Augustine

My Basic Christian Doctrine professor promised us that we will get burned by the church. Especially for those of us going into ministry, whether a head pastor or youth pastor or working in missions. The church isn’t made up of the perfect suburb people. The church looks like this, like the family that I’ve been working with all summer. They are far from perfect, and so am I. And the issue is learning to work together. It hasn’t been easy. There have been days where I’ve been burned, when all I’ve wanted to do is run.

But you stick with it. Not for yourself, but because God calls us to be faithful. He’s been the most faithful to us broken down and sinful people, so why is it so hard for us to turn around and understand where the people we’re working with have come from? Why must we judge when we’re all the same in the end. We all need our faithful God. We also all need each other.

The church may burn me, but I couldn’t live without it.

a frybread hotdog

2008-08-06T11:06:00.000-07:00

The countdown is 5 days and I saw tonight the things that I am going to miss the most from Arizona. It rained hard tonight and so as we butchered another sheep with the team and made frybread, everyone was gathered around either the fire or under the shade. There was a sense of real community that I’ve seen only a few times in my life. Why is it that community always happens around food?

Sarah was explaining tonight that we butcher for the community. It’s not about how they butcher (which is still culture-shock cool) but it’s all about the why. Normally, the Navajo would butcher when a family member came home from being away for a period of time. It was a welcoming home thing. It was about bringing people together for a celebration. The tradition is much like the story of the prodigal son. When he returns home, there’s a party.

They get it. There’s something different about living like the Navajo do that changes the way you view life and the idea of community. I know being here has changed me. I’m going to live differently when I go back. No more suburb life. I may be stuck there for a while, but I’m still going to make an effort to keep some Navajo ways of living that I’ve picked up. I want to “get it” too. I want that sense of family that comes with knowing Jesus and sharing good food.

And hopefully, we’ve left a small mark on them as well. Like tonight, when we wrapped a hotdog in frybread dough and fried it. It was excellent, and I’m thinking it might be something they won’t soon forget.

one more

2008-08-02T11:03:00.000-07:00

It’s like that scene in Schindler’s list. At the end, he’s upset with himself for not saving one more. He thinks of all the things he could have sold to save one more, he thinks of all the things he could have done better.

I feel a little bit like that right now. I have 7 days left. I’ve been here over two months and time is slipping away so fast. And what could I have done better? Who is that one more that I could have impacted better? God sent me out here for a purpose. Did I fulfill it? Did I connect like I was supposed to? Have I learned what I needed to learn?

There’s unanswered questions, but there’s also still one more week. So I guess the question is, how am I going to live this last week? It hit tonight as Townie and I were lying on a trampoline that there’s moments in life you’re never going to forget. There’s been so many this summer. There’s been so many conversations with Daniel, with Townie, with those that have come and gone, and even several with Yon.

In the spring I remember deciding to have a good day, no matter what. And that’s what I’m deciding this week. It’s going to be good. I want to laugh. I want to leave with all the good memories. I want to leave not asking what more I could have done. I would prefer to not be Schindler this time.

old school

2008-07-29T18:45:00.000-07:00

I just have to mention that this week, the Kids Club team used the felt board to tell the Bible story. It took me way back to Sunday School days with the Weavers and those old movies where the kids would jump into the Bible and go through the story. It was awesome, and the kids were so attentive during the story. Felt boards should never be done away with.

On the other hand, our logistics coordinator that has been taking care of us from the main office in Washington is here with us this week. She was my sidekick today, helping me with the small things I do, one of which includes driving and picking up kids for kids club. We had some serious bonding time and we got to talk about our summers and what our jobs have looked like on the field and in the office. And it was awesome. She basically considers Arizona to be like an international site because of the limited resources we have while we are out here. And she saw it first hand today when we passed by several cows on the road and almost hit a sheep with a church van packed full of kids. Needless to say, her experience is nothing short of exciting.

It’s amazing how reverting back to the old way of doing things can be so refreshing. Like cooking outside for instance. I have never in my life spent this much time outside, it’s almost all day. And besides barbeques, I have never really cooked outside. So to come here and learn and see the cool and interesting ways of doing things has been awesome. I feel like I now have a whole set of “Navajo skills” that I can carry with me the rest of my life. And I carry a knife everywhere, can it get any better?

the unexpected

2008-07-26T13:52:00.001-07:00

*stepping out, what a child, my steps ahead of my mind
not a doubt, till you knocked me off my paradigm
simple me, only trying to see you in the stained glass
I walked right past the unexpected

Any way you want to show me all your glory
Anywhere you choose to speak, tell your story
In the low and lofty places
Strangers’ faces
Anywhere
And any way

Doubt that I would have found you there in Bethlehem
It’s no surprise you changed the world through fishermen
Good to know you would go so far to finally get through
It’s just like you, yeah, and so unlike me

Any way you want to show me all your glory
Anywhere you choose to speak, tell your story
In the low and lofty places
Strangers’ faces
Anywhere
And any way

In the back streets and on a rooftop
And at the end of a rocky road you don’t stop
On a mountain, in a rainstorm
And in a coat where a mother keeps her baby warm
In the back pew, at the altar
And at the well where you gave the woman water
In the chaos, in the holy
In the darkness and anywhere a heart beats
Anywhere a heart beats

Any way you want to show me all your glory
Anywhere you choose to speak, tell your story
In the low and lofty places
Strangers’ faces
Anywhere
And any way*

- Kelly Minter

I remembered this song the other day as I was washing dishes. And I don’t exactly remember what happened that day, or why this song jumped out at me again, but looking back, especially on this week. I realize how true this song is.

Too many times I look in the wrong places to find God. And then, like a breath of fresh air, He shows up in the unexpected. Like this morning, as Kiki took my hand to walk me back to the house, or the team offering to do the dishes for me. He’s shown up in little kids’ faces and Sarah’s wise words. He’s shown up in Daniel’s talks and the Euchre games we now play at night. He showed up yesterday as Townie and I talked for a long time. And sometimes it’s Him talking through people who ask you if you’re doing alright. I’ve seen God in the canyon, on the dirt roads, at the swap meets and in the women making frybread. I’ve seen God in a drawing instead of a stained glass window. I’ve seen him on long road trips and early morning hikes. And the other night, when I was the last one to run up a steep, sandy hill, He was waiting for me at the top in those that were standing there encouraging me. God surrounds these people. And it’s wonderful to see God in the ordinary, in the mundane, and in the people of the Navajo nation. He’s here, friends, don’t worry, he’s here.

And he’ll go home with me too. And to Indiana and to wherever the next year takes me. I just pray that I’ll be able to see him in everything there too, even the unexpected.

being sam and frodo

2008-07-24T10:22:00.000-07:00

Daniel talked again tonight. And no matter how many times I hear a talk about his drawing, God always has something new to say to me…

A few weeks ago as we hiked down into the canyon, we all talked about which characters in Lord of the Rings we would choose to be if we got to pick. The boys all picked the warriors like Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli, Townie wanted to hold a big stick and be Gandalf. And I told everyone that I would be Sam.

There’s a part of me that’s always known I would be the best friend in a story. I’m not the main character type. Please, stick me behind the scenes. No one would write a movie based on my life. But I want to be the one giving hope, the one picking my friends up when they fall down.

There are times in all of our lives when we’re each Frodo. It’s true that each of us are on our own individual journey, carrying certain burdens and things that no one else carries. We all fall many times. But there are Sams in each of our lives; those real heroes that pick us up and force us to move on and continue the journey.

I’m blessed I guess. I have so many Sams in my life. And I realized that tonight. But I also remembered that Sam is exactly who I want to be to people in my life.

Sam couldn’t carry the ring. So he carried Frodo.

So dear friends, when I can’t carry the thing, I’ll carry you.

“…together we can run to the finish line
and when you are tired, I’ll carry you…

… we were never meant to make it on our own.
and when the load becomes too heavy and your feet too tired to walk
I will carry you and we’ll be carried on…”

*rebecca st. james

the leadership major

2008-07-16T18:52:00.001-07:00

Whenever I tell people I’m a leadership major, they always ask me what you do with that degree in the “real world”. I shrug my shoulders and say I have no clue. I could do anything with it. Why do people always pressure us to have our lives mapped out? Why do I have to know today exactly what job I’m going to be in for the rest of my life?

Why isn’t what I’m learning more important that what job I may have in the future? I wish people would ask about who I am because of the classes I’ve taken instead of what I’m going to do with some degree in the future.

Many of my classes have come back to haunt me in real life situations. I guess that’s what happens when you let God tell you what to take in college. This summer is no different. Those leadership classes are constantly in mind.

I took a class this past spring called team leader. It was a great class, I learned more than I though I could. And I got to work in a team and apply right then and there what we would talk about in lectures.

But today, in Arizona, I’m the only one who knows these principles. And my team of three is about to change dramatically in 48 hours. We’re adding a member. Experience Mission is sending us another intern to help with the last three weeks of teams. And he comes on Friday. And while I think this is going to be a good change, that never means it’s going to be easy, or that there won’t be things I need to focus on to bring all of us together.

I was telling a friend last night that the split second decisions you have to make on the field are some of the hardest I’ve ever made. I’m one of those introverts that thinks everything through before I make my final decision. And that’s not a bad thing. But sometimes, you simply don’t have the time. Sometimes, taking your time is the wrong thing to do.

Getting the phone call that someone new was coming was somewhat of a shock to me. My team, that I’ve now lived with for 7 weeks is suddenly going to change. And what am I going to do about it. How can I apply what I know from those leadership classes to make this transition smooth and good? What is God showing me here? What in the world am I going to learn here that I could never learn in a classroom?

love, the chef

2008-07-12T19:15:00.000-07:00

dear future housemates and friends at iwu,
i officially have our first meal picked out for the fall. you have to promise to eat it, and i'm telling you right now it's great. i know i promised i'd cook once a week, so for anyone brave enough to come to dinner, we'll have a good ol' navajo classic dish.

love,
the chef

a God I don't understand

2008-07-10T08:34:00.000-07:00

“But today you have met a God you do not understand. Such is the mystery of His sovereignty. Such are his ways in every generation. No man has ever understood God, not fully. No man ever will. God will always be something other than what men expect Him to be. He will work out His will in ways different from what men forsee…

…the question is, “Will you follow a God you do not understand? Will you follow a God who does not live up to your expectations?” – The Prisoner in the 3rd Cell

I wonder why I was placed in Arizona.

Why, God, why?

youth group of the year

2008-07-09T09:33:00.000-07:00

We’ve had three teams come and go. Houses have been repaired and painted, shades have been built, floors have been tiled, and a lot of food has been eaten. It’s hard to believe that half our teams are done and gone. Time flew by. And now, it was time for me to go on another adventure.

Ever since we arrived, I’ve heard the church youth group talk about Trail of Hope. It’s a native youth conference, a place for these guys to be encouraged and see what other native youth are doing around the area both on the rez and off. It’s like their own version of Christ in Youth conferences that I went to summers in high school.

I didn’t think I was going to get to go. It wasn’t until the night before that it was decided I would go. Chris and Townie had to stay to run errands and take care of things around the church. But God granted me yet another crazy adventure.

I wish I could express how much I love these people, especially the youth. Two of the girls have been my traveling companions as I pick up kids for kids club and they have been so much fun. The boys are always running around and helping me cook for the teams and Daniel the youth leader has become a friend that can be both crazy and serious. I was so excited to spend this time with them and share in the experience of Trail of Hope.

As with most things here, this trip was completely unpredictable. Everyone was chasing us off on Saturday, saying we were going to be late. In reality, the conference started on Sunday, and we had to buy some tarps and camp out on Saturday night since we were a day early. I loved it though: the randomness of life and the spontaneous decisions. They make my day without even knowing it.

The actual conference was really good, a little different from ones that I’ve been to in the past, but it was yet another learning experience for me. The kids were the best part. I got to see them learning more about God, I got to see and hear them worshipping and singing, and as always, I got to laugh with them and have fun.

And God spoke to me too. It’s a place I would never have expected to be and yet God showed me how I got there. I got to go to a seminar on missions, I got to meet some really cool people that are working with native youth. And I was challenged by what God is doing in my life. I knew after the first week that these people and this place would hold an extremely special place in my heart. I saw that even more as I spent time with the youth and Daniel on this trip. They mean so much to me, more than they might ever know.

On the last night awards were handed out to the youth pastor of the year, youth group member of the year, youth group of the year and there was a lifetime achievement award. Our youth from New Testament Indian Gospel Church won youth group of the year. I could see it coming. I was so incredibly happy they won. No other youth group deserved it more. These kids help out so much. There’s no way Chris and Townie and I could survive without them and what they do for us. And on crazy days, they keep us sane. When I see those boys pull up, I know the day is going to be alright. They make the long days worth it, and knowing that we get to hang out with them all summer is so wonderful.

They so deserved it, and when they opened their gift they were shocked. They won a Wii for being the youth group of the year.

And no one deserved it more. You gotta love them.

the lamb

2008-06-29T22:47:00.000-07:00

Our third group left really early Friday morning, so we had a “day off”. Normally after groups leave, our days off consist of cleaning and running around, which is exactly what this Friday also entailed. I cleaned the grill and the food storage shed and headed off to Tuba City with James, Sarah, their daughter, Townie and Matt the journalist intern that had been with us for the week. Chris woke up really sick so we left him home deciding whether or not he wanted to survive. We were gone most of the afternoon and randomly ended up riding home with Felix so we could help butcher a sheep with the family that night.

The way home was more than interesting. Felix is one of those people with testimonies that you almost can’t believe because God took someone so broken and completely turned them around. And as Felix was sharing a part of his testimony with us, he was also asking us deep questions, like the one thing we would ask of God that would edify the church body and how do we recognize that we trust God completely in our lives. I wrestled with those that night. I wrestled with what Felix was talking about.

And then we get to grandma and grandpa’s house and we wrestle a sheep to the ground, tie it up and slit its throat. It was such a crazy picture. Once the sheep or lamb is tied up and lying down, it doesn’t cry at all. It simply lays down its life. Like Jesus, like my Savior did when he willingly gave up his life on the cross. I watched them slit the throat. I held the legs while they took off the skin. I helped hold the bowl as they pulled all the insides out of the sheep. I held up the fat so it could dry and then after they cut it into strips, I wrapped the intestines around the fat so they could cook it over the open fire. I ate the liver and the tongue and had the time of my life.

A few years ago, there’s no way I could have done any of that. There’s no way I could have watched any of that or participated in any way. But I look at where God has brought me, how’s he’s given me the grace to jump into different cultures like the Navajo and appreciate who they are and the traditions they carry.

Without the lamb dying, there’s no celebration, there’s no family party.

Without Jesus dying, there’s no party in heaven.

He died willingly… for you and me, so one day we can have a big feast.

what it's like to be followed

2008-06-29T22:29:00.000-07:00

First off, I forgot to write about the nicknames that the Navajo have given us since we’ve been here. Chris just got his from a grandma that kept seeing him at the gas station driving the van. And so in Navajo she called him the tall white pole or an easy target. Alex has a t-shirt that says “townie” on it, so that’s what the boys started calling her and that’s probably what I’ll refer to her as throughout my blogs. And after I jokingly yelled at the boys for throwing a football they started calling me Mama Marge, or just Mama. It also applies since I’m the cook as well.

So, twice a week we have to take the trash to the dump about 30 minutes away. Normally, Chris does this since he’s technically in charge of the van. But on Tuesday, Chris was in charge of the evening program and so Alex and I had to do a late nite trash run (it wasn’t really midnight).

Now townie and I were off on an adventure. We’d only made this drive in the day and we were also only passengers. So townie made me drive since she’s short and she was real scared since it was just the two of us going to the dump by ourselves. We felt a little safer since we both had our knives (not that we’re great at using them for self defense yet).

It was a pretty entertaining drive and we kept getting passed because I don’t totally trust the van so I was going slower than most people would like. We get to the dump and we’re trying to throw these big trash bags into the dumps that are too tall. It was funny because we were trying to hurry since townie was so worried. Townie also thought she heard someone say “hey” from behind one of the big trash cans. We emptied the van as fast as we could and hurried to get back to the road.

Halfway home, we were passed by a car and had someone wave at us. Turns out, it was Jere Bear, Steven and Sister. They didn’t trust me and townie to take the trash all by ourselves and not get hurt. Well, at least they care that much to follow us out.

Just one of many crazy adventures.

flying

2008-06-29T22:28:00.000-07:00

“All God wants to do is take you where you cannot go alone and make you what you cannot be alone. You were not created to live your life absent of God. There is a dream for your life you can’t even begin to imagine without God. Without him you are settling for less. If you were meant to fly, not even running really fast is that impressive.”
- Erwin McManus – Soul Cravings

I read the above book last summer when what I did all day was sit by the pool and watch two girls. Last year, I was dreaming. I knew then that this summer was going to be different, that this summer was going to take me somewhere I may not want to go. But I still couldn’t see it. At that point, I was still running really fast. And it wasn’t that impressive.

Today I feel as though I’m flying. Being here is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, and yet also one of the best. It’s hard now to imagine my life without these people in it. In one month’s time they have changed me. They have taught me so many things, so many life lessons. And I know without a doubt that if I left today I’d be a different person for the rest of my life.

The good news is that I’m not leaving today. I still have 6 more weeks with these amazing people. I get to live alongside them and participate fully in their culture. I’m flying. Last summer I was running safely. This summer I’m flying without a parachute.

But that’s all right. I was meant to fly.

“You can spend your whole life trying to become what your soul longs for without God. You might resent that he’s made it so hard for you to live out your dreams or fulfill your destiny. It’s never quite hit you that it’s in the struggle, in the process, even in our search for God, that he is making us strong enough to take flight.”
- Erwin McManus – Soul Cravings

the initiation

2008-06-24T11:25:00.000-07:00

This morning at church, James and Sarah stood us up in height order (Chris, Me, Alex) in front of the congregation and talked in Navajo for a while. We had absolutely no idea what was going on until they handed each of us a knife and told us to always carry them with us and be prepared. When the Navajo’s ask, we better have our knives on us.
I didn’t know how to say thank you. We stood there dumbfounded. None of us had a clue that the church would do something like this for us. We were simply amazed. As I told someone this story later, she told me that the moments like this are the ones that make every heartache and backbreaking thing we do worth it. It seems to me like we’re a part of the family after all. And once again, I felt so blessed.

Every day is a new adventure. You never know what is going to happen; what challenges you’re going to face or what amazing moments you’re going to have. The pastor at Exit 59 where I go to church when I’m at school always says that he would have never dreamed he’d be where he is today and if he could have seen the future while in college, he wouldn’t have ever believed that this life would happen for him.
It feels like that this summer. If I could see into the future for the rest of the summer, I’m sure there are things that will come across my path that I would never have believed I’d do or handle. But that’s the beauty of living in the now, living day by day, and not worrying about what may happen tomorrow.
It’s still hard to believe I’m here: cooking outside for 50 people, washing pans with ash from the fire (it takes the fire burns off so your clothes don’t get black!), hiking down into canyons, eating new things, actually wanting to butcher a sheep, driving big vans on crazy dirt roads and tackling my fear of heights.
There are times when I wonder what in the world I’m doing here, and times when I’m simply amazed that I’ve had this incredible opportunity.

my cloud of witnesses

2008-06-20T20:11:00.000-07:00

I used to be scared of the spring. For four consecutive springs, we lost a member of our family. The first was unexpected, the second was necessary, the third was not what anyone wanted and the fourth seemed a little unreal. Since then, there’s been more, not in the spring, but they hurt nonetheless. There’s been at least one death close to me every year since 2001. That moment in may when uncle buzz died was the moment I realized life wasn’t easy.
It took me a long time to even begin to understand why I’ve dealt with so many of these. I have friends that just recently have experienced the first death close to them. And while I have no answer, God has granted me a peace that transcends understanding. And tonight, he made things somewhat clearer for me.

In the church I’m working in this summer there’s a large mural on the wall that Daniel drew using pastels. Some weeks he explains the meanings of the different images that are portrayed. There’s a picture of a young person with an old grandma above her. In Navajo, the elderly are given much respect. They carry so much wisdom and they also see the potential in all the young.
Then there’s the symbol of those that have died in service to the country. At the front of the mural is a gun standing straight up with the hat on it. This signifies those that have died for our country and have gone ahead. And Daniel talked about not only those that have served but any of our family members that have also gone ahead and become our cloud of witnesses.
They are up there, looking down, and they see our potential. My many family members and friends, they are my own cloud of witnesses. They see my potential. They see who I can be if only I let God work in my life. Though I can’t see them, they are like a constant encouragement, cheering me on as I run the race, as I work in Arizona this summer, as I finish college and as I head to Africa in the spring. And maybe they see the potential in me beyond that as well. Maybe they’re up there dreaming up things with God for my life.
And just maybe, your own family members and friends are doing the same for you. When we let God dream for us, it’s always better and more adventurous than anything we could come up with on our own. And there are people cheering us on in the faith, even when we can’t see them or hear them or feel them.

There are people here too. I have the best support system anyone could ever ask for. Mom and Dad, thanks again for giving me up to God and allowing me to follow where He’s taken me. Matt, thanks for being the best brother and friend. Kelley, even though we’re separated most times, thank you for the lifelong friendship. Christi, I don’t even know where to begin, but I wouldn’t be the woman I am today without you. Sarah Black, thank you for knowing me better than I know myself most times. Sara Lynn, thank you for challenging my thinking and talking intellectually with me even when I don’t understand half of what you’re saying. Beth, you taught me so much, thank you for being the first one willing to fight and disagree with me, but still love me at the end of the day. Emma, thank you for your smile and the sunshine you bring to my life. Sisterhood, thank you for providing me with something so unique and special. Mark and Scott, thank you for being like brothers to me. And to those that have gone before, thank you for your wonderful examples of lives well lived.

Every day I realize how blessed I truly am.

when my faith can't reach that far

2008-06-18T11:05:00.001-07:00

*don’t leave me now
my memories are more than I can take tonight
and God show me how
I’m supposed to trust in things beyond my sight…

So teach me how to kneel
When I don’t know how to feel
And show me where you are
When my faith can’t reach that far
My faith can’t reach that far…

And tell me there’s more
To this life than only what my heart can see
Take all these things
Make them into more than who I used to be

Is my soul too blind to see
The truth you have for me
Cause this peace I feel inside
Is too weak to survive
Too weak to survive

My heart has left me alone again
Is this the beginning, is this the end,
Is this the time you’ll never let me in again?

So teach me how to kneel
When I don’t know how to feel
And show me where you are
When my faith can’t reach that far
My faith can’t reach that far…*

“reach that far” – eleventyseven

My brother is the music man. One of our friends once said that if there was a jeopardy Christian rock band edition, she’d want Matt on her team. I don’t know where or when he found the above song, but I remember him telling be about it. He hands me cd’s and tells me which songs to listen to. This one has been in my library for a while and has applied at different times in my life.
Today it hit home in a different way. In a nutshell, I’m more out of my comfort zone than I’ve ever been. And while it’s good, and I find myself turning to God more, it can still feel as though my faith isn’t reaching far enough. The days aren’t easy. They’re long, they’re hot and sometimes they’re downright frustrating. It’s a battle in my mind on what to focus on at any given moment. The small decisions I make affect not only me anymore.
I’m living with two amazing people that I’ve grown to love and respect, despite the fact that we’ve known each other less than a month. It’s a team, and there are differences, but we still share so much. And it’s strange at times, and it’s also fun. And I realized tonight that I need to work harder on encouraging these two people God has placed in my life. I’m here ultimately to serve God and the Navajo people, but I’m also here to serve these two.
God shows me in a new way how much of a behind the scenes person I truly am. Tricia was right in putting “the man behind the curtain” on the back of my t-shirt. We saw it then. I saw it in softball. I struggled with it this past spring break in Costa Rica. And I’m here doing it again. And there are days where I feel I have a thankless job and I wonder whether what I’m doing really matters.
But it does. Rob Bell said in Velvet Elvis that it’s the small, quiet, stealth acts that change things. I may never see it, but it could be those small actions that I do every day that change things. This is where faith and trust come into play.

God show me where you are… when my faith can’t reach that far…

*Matt: I’m always thinking about you… I wanted to let you know that I’m so proud of you and I love that you and I share a heart for good music and for missions. I always listen to the songs you tell me to listen to… those are actually the ones that have changed my life. I miss you like crazy and I’m constantly praying for you this summer. You’re the best ever. I love you.

when truth makes you cry.

2008-06-18T11:04:00.001-07:00

today I saw my mother. I wish it had been in a way where I could touch her and hug her (no one hugs me here), but it wasn’t this time. it was through someone else. Someone who carries my mother’s wisdom and strength and love throughout her whole being. And it made me miss home so much.
Sarah, the pastor’s wife talked with us for a long time today about almost everything under the sun. she talked to us about teamwork, she told stories of people she knew, of the church she’d grown up in, of her family, and what a real friend looks like. And it felt to me like it was my mom sitting there teaching me all of these lessons. Maybe it’s because I’ve heard them before, or seen them in my mom’s actions and the way she lives her life. But real truth was spoken into my life today. And sitting there with James and Sarah and Chris and Alex, I just cried.
I cried because I missed my mom and her wisdom. And because it was Father’s day and I couldn’t be there to give my dad a hug for being the best dad and always providing for and loving our family with everything he is. Every time I leave home it gets harder. Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around? Isn’t it supposed to get easier?

So thank you, mom and dad, for being the kind of parents that are hard to leave. Thank you for being my constant support, for still letting me lean on you when I’m tired, for loving me through everything and not only letting me be gone for 2 or 3 months, but actually encouraging me to take hold of every opportunity, even when it means we’re far apart.
I am blessed, so blessed. And although I now call the Navajos here family, no one and nothing could ever replace you two. I could never thank God enough for the both of you. You mean the world to me. And I love you so much.

failing and falling... and climbing back up

2008-06-15T17:57:00.000-07:00

The team told me the meals were good, but I got a different word from others, and I have to admit that I wasn’t so impressed with myself. The timing is insane when trying to cook for 50+ people, and I haven’t been in the rhythm I need. And when someone tells you outright you need to go to spaghetti class, it doesn’t quite make your day. There’s so much to learn for a seemingly thankless job. And when I took on the cooking, I didn’t realize that there was so much cleaning involved as well. Cleaning is not my favorite activity.
Plain and simple, I failed a lot this week. Only a few saw it, but it was so evident to me that I once again felt completely inadequate to be here. Is that how I’m supposed to feel throughout this whole summer? Or will some measure of confidence slowly start to creep into my life as I continue to cook and live 24/7 with this crazy job? There are definite moments when I look up at the sky and ask God what he was thinking…

Our “days off” have been more than incredible. They always involve cleaning, which isn’t my favorite, but kinda has to be done. But then there are hours and moments like we had today, as we hiked far down into the canyon and saw the most incredible sights. Pictures are never good enough, and for those of you that could make the hike, I would encourage you to come down here in a heartbeat. God’s handiwork is everywhere, and as we sat and listened to Daniel’s canyon stories, I have to admit I was convicted. They’re testing our character here. Maybe that’s why life seems so hard sometimes… most times. Maybe the hike down was a test of character. Did I pass? I made it back up, but I honestly have no idea what they think of me.
But does it really truly matter? Am I here to please the people here or am I here because this is where God has placed me? Where’s my focus? Who’s my focus? It’s a hard question to answer. Hard because you have to deal with the people you’re working with and yet they are not perfect either, like me… and I’m not here to worship them or give them any sort of glory. It’s all for Him. It’s all for the man who saved me so many years ago and brought me to this place.

I’ve failed and I’ve fallen in the past week. But even when I’m tired and I can’t breathe, I know there’s some sort of strength in me to climb back up. I did it tonight. I made it back to the top of the canyon. And yes, I had some amazing people standing beside me or behind me or holding my hand. But there was still some courage and strength to get back up. It came from Him, the man I’ll gladly hand my life over to.

you learn something new every day...

2008-06-15T17:56:00.000-07:00

*to all my future housemates and family…
… I now officially know how to fix a septic tank, a talent not all women should necessarily possess, but one that may be helpful nonetheless.

Thursday, June 12: a layer of grease.
Seriously, I need to get a before and after picture of this event grill I have to clean every week. It wasn’t that bad until bbq chicken night and by today, it was just a mess. I’m pretty sure it takes about 3 or 4 hours to clean and to make it worse, we couldn’t shower or go to the bathroom in our house until we figured out what was wrong with the septic tank. So we started digging, and digging, and all the while smelling this wonderful smell of the backed up stuff. And then grandpa Roy appeared and figured out what was wrong. So now we are allowed to shower, but the septic tank is something we have to check regularly. So fun.
Another sweet thing I did today was clean the grease pan from the grill which was chalk full of grease, all the way to the rim. So I stuck my hand in there and dug it out. It felt kind of like clay and it was real interesting. Alex was grossed out, but I thought it was kind of cool… crazy new adventures every single day.

On the flip side, we got to sleep in today, which was great. And the boys slept over last night outside on their cots. They didn’t invite alex and I to sleep out there though, which was fine with us to have the house to ourselves.

You honestly NEVER know what’s going to happen next. It makes life real interesting.

more adventurous than i can tell you.

2008-06-11T14:00:00.000-07:00

Monday: simply amazed
It’s 8:45 and the teams just left me. I’m alone here at the church and I’m wondering how much of this time in the morning I’m going to have throughout the summer. There are a million things to do (like cleaning – mom, you’d be so proud). I have meals to prepare and things to get ready because my afternoon will be spent getting kids for Kids Club and visiting the work sites on the last day. Tonight’s meal isn’t the easiest to fix either. But for some reason, I can’t stand up. My mind is racing with everything else.
I don’t think, wait… no, I know I’m not ready for this team to leave. Maybe it’s because it’s my first. Maybe it’s because they have been amazing and organized and so much fun (especially for knee highs!) The days are long and hard. Everyone was right when they told me this was the hardest summer of their life, but also the best. Even though I want to throw my alarm clock in the morning, I also love when it goes off. I’m normally the first one up, making breakfast and putting things together for the teams. The mornings have been cool, but beautiful. And the sight when I walk out our front door and over the parking lot to the outdoor kitchen is breathtaking. How blessed am I to wake up to that every morning this summer…

On Saturday night we took the group to the canyon, on the other side where we could safely hike and build a bonfire. And as I looked across and saw all of the edges and straight drops of the cliffs, I thought about how I’d gotten here. Arizona… never in my wildest dreams. As a freshman, there’s no way I could have taken a leap of faith like this. Look where God’s brought me. And next year, He wants to take me to Africa? What? I never dreamed I could do these things, but then again, it’s really not me doing this at all. It’s all God. The fact that I’m inadequate means that He gets all the glory. And living this way is more adventurous than I can tell you…

*Mom – we have to start investing in Blue Bird flour so I can make Navajo tacos with fry bread when I come home. Miss you lots.

Once again, I thank everyone who has been a support system in my life. Leaving was harder than I thought this summer and I miss you all so much. I am so blessed to have you all in my life. God is so good.

Hanging on to Jesus,
Margie

“I found a way out through everything I’d known
I’m walking fearless with my faith down and all that I own
Don’t take my picture, cause I won’t be there standing alone
I’m living fearless, so fearless, like everyday’s my own”
Fearless – Falling Up

annie, get your gun

2008-06-04T13:37:00.000-07:00

Friday: my first puddle-jumper…
I flew to Phoenix in the morning and met the other interns before our puddle-jumper flight to Flagstaff. It was the smallest plane I’d ever been on (besides my uncle’s two-seater that he let me kind of fly). We met Kristy who was sent to help us get situated and hopefully teach me how to cook for large numbers of people.
sidenote: if anyone remembers the section at the old COSI where you fake-cooked from the pioneer days, yeah, cooking here is just like that, only with real food and for 50 people. I should have a picture posted for you soon
Anyways, after we met Kristy and gathered some groceries, we headed out to the reservation. This place is beautiful. There are so many mountains and with the red dirt and clear blue skies it was such a wonderful change from the flat Midwest that I’m used to seeing.
We met a good portion of the Tate family on Friday as well. Grandpa Roy and Grandma Suzie greeted us. They have 8 children, all of who live on the same road with their respective families. Their daughter Sarah is married to the pastor of the church and we met her and her family who we will be working close with as well.
We came back to the house and the church property, had a late dinner and went to bed early since we had all been up since 4 or 5 in the morning.

Saturday: get your gun…
We had the morning to ourselves but that probably won’t happen often. By lunchtime we had half of the family running through our small intern house fixing some of the plumbing and hanging out with us. We sat down and met with Pastor James and Sarah about some logistics and spent time sitting and talking with the family.
Relationships are key with the Navajo. Time is flexible and they love to sit around and talk with everyone. So that’s exactly what we did. And then the boys decided to take us on a little adventure.
In this family’s “backyard” is a canyon that they know like the back of their hand. It’s not that far away, but you have to do some serious off-roading to get there. So here we are, in the back of a truck, driving next to this serious canyon. (mom, you wouldn’t have made it, there were times when I couldn’t look). The canyon was beautiful. There’s a part that hangs over a 3000 foot drop that they call the egg shell. It’s a good thing they didn’t tell me where I was until I was on top of it.
We then hiked up a little mountain thing to get a better view of the canyon and this is where I experienced a first in my life. I shot two guns off into the canyon. One kicked a little and that’s the video that will hopefully work on this page. The other pictures are mostly from the canyon on Saturday. We finished the evening with a very late BBQ with the Tate family, which was, once again, amazing. They are so full of life and can always make me laugh.

Sunday: rock band
Church followed by a family picnic. Seriously, can this get any better? Navajo fry bread and Jeremy’s amazing grilling abilities left me stuffed after a Sunday lunch with the Tates. I love them more and more every day.
Pastor James took us to see some of the construction projects today (which was good for me because I won’t be leaving the church much with Kids Club and my LARGE cooking responsibilities). I had to remind myself to walk into these sites with an open mind. They simply live differently and we are here to completely help and not judge at all. At times, it’s like being in another country because they ALL speak Navajo. So if they don’t want us to hear what they’re saying, they’ll talk in Navajo around us. It’s really interesting though, because it helps us rely on them. We are so not in control here. We need these people, and it’s humbling, but I’m so grateful for their presence and complete involvement.
Anyways, Sunday night consisted of us sitting around with the boys and being amazed by their Rock Band abilities. These kids are good, and they put me to shame when I attempted to play the drums. (I only failed once!)

Monday: the grill
I think it took us 6 or so hours to clean up the camp and it took a while to clean this grill to get it ready for the team coming Thursday. We also sorted the food pantry and semi-organized what we had so that cooking can be more efficient for me as I attempt to feed 50 people every night. I’m excited though, just pray that I don’t burn anything.

Tuesday: black widow spiders
We finished up some cleaning projects and organizational things. And as we were cleaning the outdoor showers, Kristy found a black widow spider in the corner and I watched her kill it. (I’m so not to the point where I can kill deadly animals myself). We’ve been briefed on how to recognize the things that need to be killed around here, like black widow spiders, scorpions, and rattlesnakes (for that, you call one of the local teenage boys and watch them kill it with a shovel… but they taught us how to walk/run away!).
The family took us to Navajo park where there are some cave-dwellings you can view from afar (again, mom, the height thing would kill you!) And then we went up into Utah to see Monument Valley during the sunset, and it was beautiful. Everything seems so majestic out here and we are all amazed (especially since we’re from the mostly flat Midwest).

Wednesday: the grocery bill
We’re in Page today (an hour from the rez), getting on the internet because we don’t have it where we are and doing our grocery shopping for the upcoming week with a team. It’s completely overwhelming, knowing I have to buy 600 slices of bread plus all of the other crazy numbers of things it takes to feed 45-50 people for a week. I still can’t wrap my head around the numbers and the amount this grocery bill is going to be…

In other news, my fears have faded tremendously. I’m probably less nervous than I should be, especially with our first team coming tomorrow. But God has granted me an extreme kind of peace and I want to thank everyone that has been praying for me and this summer. I’ve already seen his hand in placing me here, with these other two interns (who are amazing, by the way!) and with this incredibly relational and wonderful family (think the Starkey/Aurand clan times 6). He is so good and now I’m simply excited about being here and serving for God’s glory.

In case you want to send me anything, here’s the address.
Margie Termeer
Hc 70 Box 3
PMB Box 5086
Tonalea, AZ 86044

I love you all, and I really do miss everyone. But it’s so comforting knowing that this is where I’m supposed to be.

you jump, i jump, jack...

2008-05-29T20:04:00.000-07:00

i'm a little scared.

no. wait. that's a lie.

i'm a lot scared.

jumping into the unknown is scary and that's exactly what i'll be doing in 8 hours. i'm once again feeling inadequate, that maybe i'm not quite ready. but maybe that's how i'm supposed to feel. because it's in those moments that i only have one place to turn. i'm leaving my family behind and my friends behind. i've known my teammates less than a week and i don't know anyone on the reservation.

so there's one place i can go.

God, i'm running fast into your arms. you're going to have to hold me up this summer and give me the strength to go on.

i'm jumping and it's all for YOU.

the people you meet

2008-05-24T18:53:00.000-07:00

maybe Disney World has the right idea with their ride and song "it's a small world"

or maybe God is just so amazing that he can take the small things in the big world and bring them to our attention.

bermuda is not that big. the entire country is 21 miles long and maybe 1 mile wide. there's 65,000 people. it's the size of a small city in the states. everybody knows everybody. you say hi to the bus driver when you step on the bus and everyone honks at each other all the time as a way of saying hi.

and it was here, in this small place that i met kelli last week.

kelli was on our flight from philidelphia to bermuda last friday and my friend overheard her say she was from indiana. turns out that kelli and I had a random connection and that got us talking the other night when we met up and went out for dessert.

we talked about missions, about our life goals, about where God has brought us and the amazing opportunities he has given to both of us to pursue what we love this summer. it was one of the best conversations i've had with a "relative stranger"

and yet kelli didn't feel like a stranger. she felt like an old friend, like someone I had known for a while. she was easy for me to talk to and we understood exactly where the other person was coming from even though our interests and passions are seemingly completely different.

kelli and I are somehow a part of this larger church body that is bigger than the united states, bigger than bermuda and bigger than any other place in the world we may both travel. and meeting members of the church should feel like meeting old friends. we all share something. we share a love for God, a belief that has carried most of us throughout the hardest times in our life. why are we so unwilling to share our stories, to meet each other in different places?

last week the world felt small to me.

but this week the world feels big. and not an overwhelming big, but a big that is still smaller than God. God is bigger, and yet he can also work in the smallest ways that we never see coming.

*at the end of our conversation kelli told me that talking with me had been such an encouragement to her. this, in turn, was incredibly encouraging to me and i walked away thanking God for orchestrating our meeting. i walked away full of joy that night and completely amazed at how our God works.

being alone

2008-05-02T23:06:00.000-07:00

if gas was cheaper, i'd be taking mid-night drives around the 270 loop all the time.

there's something about driving alone, in the summer, in the middle of the night, alone.

for some, this has absolutely no appeal.

for me, it's a dream.

kind of like my dream vacation: a week by myself on some beach somewhere with no phone, no computer and no contact with any one person i know. just me, my bible, my journal and the beach. i would love it.

so i don't know what it was about tonight that made me think that the world needs to move slower.

maybe it was the fact that there was no one on the roads.

maybe it was the 5 minute train i had to wait for on orange rd.

maybe it was being amazed by God for making beautiful nights.

on my last night in costa rica this spring break i woke up in the middle of the night and had to go to the bathroom.

i hated this.

it meant i had to walk outside with my headlight looking on the ground for some kind of spiders or something.

and normally i had to kill some insect in the bathroom first.

but this last night, i looked up at the sky.

and in costa rica, in the jungle, you can see more stars than you ever thought you could see.

and i stood there, almost falling over, looking as hard as i could up at the beautiful stars

thinking...

this is incredible. this is God. this is how good He is.

why do i not stop sometimes to look at the night sky and be thankful?

why do i not slow down to remember God's faithfulness?

what's the arizona sky going to be like?

what's the african sky going to be like?

God, help me appreciate the sky and the slowness of life wherever i am...

a girl with authority

2008-04-27T19:44:00.000-07:00

i'm sure many of you have heard the story about the horrible car crash at taylor two years ago.

whitney cerak was the girl that lived to tell her story to the world.

and one day, she asked her dad, "why me?"

and her dad responded, "whitney, why not you?"

i've been asking the same question over the past 10 days.

God, why me?

and He keeps responding, why not you?

i've spent this past year, my junior year at IWU, feeling completely unprepared to do what God has been calling me to do.

i've struggled through leadership classes and my own personal relationships.

and it was so obvious that i was supposed to pursue experience missions.

and now that arizona is a month away, i still feel somewhat unprepared.

but it's coming, and i'm not about to ignore the call.

Jesus had authority while on earth. people followed him, not because he looked good or had amazing speeches or was the most popular, but because his message had authority. he knew who he was. he was confident in who his Father wanted him to be.

and as i heard that in the sermon this morning at church, i didn't get really excited. until the pastor told us to turn over to matthew 28. and in that moment, it clicked. i started crying. i knew exactly where he was going with this.

"all authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. THEREFORE, go and make disciples of all nations..."

matthew 28:18-19a

i have his authority, the same authority Jesus had when he was here.

i have the Holy Spirit with me.

so God, let's go... to arizona, to zambia, to wherever else in this crazy, heartbroken world you want to take me.

it doesn't matter at all how ready i feel.

here i am.

send me.

margie, why not you?