Hyatt Place

The Best Day...

2011-06-26T00:03:00.010-05:00

While eating dinner tonight, Denyse, Hannah, and I got into a discussion about our "best days"...

... days of adventure surfing sand dunes and climbing glaciers...
... days of laughter encountering gay lobsters and Jagermeister-toting gas station attendants...
... days of service wielding tools and hugging babies...
... days of surprise running from tornadoes and driving through snowstorms...
... days of calm eating cupcakes in the Park and pancakes by the beach...

Oh, my word... what grace we've been given.

I can't wait for the next best days...

... celebrating birthdays with chicken spaghetti and strawberry-balsamic cake at Aunt Char's...
... planning the Great European Adventure of 2012...
... and all of the other adventuring and laughing and serving and surprising and calm (and great dinners with great friends) that will happen in the in-between.

It's amazing how talking about the best day can spring up a well of gratitude within you...

What are some of your best days?

I'll See You...

2011-05-03T23:08:00.004-05:00

Luis (center) came to Hogar de Esperanza one Sunday morning last June while most of the other kids were at church. He was left at our gate in his wheelchair with nothing else to his name except a little, red radio. Courtney was keeping Abel (left) and Italo (right) and came to tell me that we had a new child.

Luis couldn't really tell us anything about himself. From what we could make out, he had lived in Lima with his mother until they went to live in Trujillo with an uncle. As far as I know, we never heard from the mother or the uncle again. In fact, we had so little information that the volunteers just recently declared that it was Luis' birthday and took him out to celebrate. If ever there were an obvious example of "the least of these", Luis was it. The world into which he was born had nothing for him, and in spite of this, Luis was demanding, sarcastic, biting, and hilarious... and we loved him.

In talking to some of the volunteers tonight, we found out that Luis passed away on Sunday. He had been diagnosed with muscular dystrophy and suffered an apparent heart attack. Becca, one of the volunteers was very quick to remind us that she talked to him about God and that she's sure he's with the Lord, now. Isn't that an amazing hope? So much better than what we had to offer him here...

I'll see you when I get there,
Shining like the sun.
I'll see you when I get there,
Into your arms I'll run.

I see you when the wind blows,
Running without fear,
Born to rest in your fathers arms,
Your joy has dried the tears.

I'll see you when I get there,
When my life's complete,
Will you take me to Jesus' feet?
Hand in hand we'll sing.

We're gonna sing for You.

Sparks Fly...

2010-11-28T21:06:00.012-06:00

Mis Chispas...

Marita, age 8

My favorite moment: She's been especially affectionate lately. I have been calling her "mi Marita bonita" (changing the words to a song that everyone in Peru knows by heart), and the other day when I said it to her, she responded "mi Tia preciosa". I just love her.

Immediate prayer request: discernment to choose friends carefully and the ability to show love in place of hostility

Rosita, age 5

My favorite moment: About a week after her arrival at the albergue, she still wasn't showing much emotion or really acknowledging that she understood us. I walked into the house one morning, though, and she ran up to me with her arms open for me to hold her. She's improving daily in her trust of us and desire to communicate.

Immediate prayer request: her development and learning

Rocío, age 16

My favorite moment: We went to lunch with the adolescents when Robyn and Mr. Gordon came to visit last week. Rocío ordered a piece of lemon pie, and it was a HUGE piece of lemon pie. She made the best face when it arrived.

Immediate prayer request: clear direction for her future as she prepares to leave in 18 months

Isabel, age 11

My favorite moment: Through the generosity of a former volunteer and her family, Isabel has been able to begin dance classes in Trujillo. On her first day, I went to pick her up, a little concerned about how things were going and if she'd make any friends. (Sometimes our kids are ostracized because they're the "kids from the orphanage".) As Isabel walked down the stairs to meet me, she was arm-in-arm with another girl, so busy talking that she didn't have time to greet me or her Tia Kristi. It was a true "I'm too cool for you" moment, but I loved it. She loves her class and can tell you about every girl in there.

Immediate prayer request: a family

Consuelo, age 12

My favorite moment: Consuelo and her family arrived the same week that I did, and they were in fairly bad shape- emotionally, mentally, and physically. Every day, though, I was able to see the progress in them. I loved when the day came that I realized that Consuelo was joking around just like all of the other kids.

Immediate prayer request: a family

Yessica, age 7 months

My favorite moment: every morning when Whitney asks Kristi and I if we think Hilda will let her hold the baby today. I realize this isn't really a "Yessica" moment, but Kristi and Whitney literally prayed for a baby girl who needed a home, and I'm pretty sure they haven't stopped smiling since she arrived.

Immediate prayer request: general development and a family

Fiorela, age 9

My favorite moment: having to go pick her up from Betania because we started to worry when she was 20 minutes behind all of the other kids. When I asked her why she was late, she looked at me and said, "Tia, I had to get my homework. Don't you know?"

Immediate prayer request: resolution in her family situation or a new family

Yamelit, age 16

My favorite moment: watching her sing at church (and when she told her Tia Robyn that she was going to use her powers for good)

Immediate prayer request: that God would grant her the desire to "use her powers for good" and that wise decisions would be made about her future

Sofia, age 8

My favorite moment: watching her work in tutoría these past few months... When she came, Sofia had never been to school and would get so frustrated and angry when she was trying to learn. She would either shut down completely or lash out (as poor Lori learned the hard way). But, she's progressed to the point where she finishes her homework before the other girls in her tutoría and is so proud of herself. It's amazing to see what God has done in the life of this little girl.

Immediate prayer request: a family

Jennifer, age 12

My favorite moment: The first time I stayed in the Chispas for any length of time, we went to the Rancho to bake cookies together. Jennifer loved it. She especially loved using the electric mixer... something I'm pretty sure she had never seen before.

Immediate prayer request: the ability to overcome the wrongs of her family and find new hope and a new life in Christ

Treasure...

2010-11-26T22:08:00.015-06:00

Dante, age 9

My favorite memory- With Dante, it's never been just one thing... it's a million tiny things. The way he looks at his sisters, the way he slobbers when he gets excited and is trying to tell a story, the way he watches me playing with the smaller kids and will quietly come over and say, "Ok, Tia. I want to play."

Immediate prayer request: that his family be reunited

Aldair, age 9

My favorite moment: He came in the biblioteca a few weeks ago and asked me for a Bible. We had an extra, so I gave it to him. When I went into his house later that night, he was in his bed reading his Bible while the other boys were watching a movie. A few days ago, he told me that his version of the Bible wasn't like Samir's version... he thinks Samir's is more correct and has requested a new Bible. I think we have a future Bible scholar on our hands.

Immediate prayer request: that God grant him a spirit of calm and understanding when life isn't going his way

José Luís, age 2

My favorite moment: José Luís is very smart, but he's had some trouble with his language development. A few days ago, I walked into his house, and very clearly, he said, "Tia, pan por favor." I think he's decided that he can speak when he wants food.

Immediate prayer request: a family for him and his sisters

Luis, age 12

My favorite moment: The first time that I stayed in the Tesoros after his arrival, I was telling the boys what to do for their daily chores, and Luis laughed and said, "That American is a witch." I couldn't help but laugh out loud.

Immediate prayer request: He has been diagnosed with muscular dystrophy, and we are currently deciding how best to treat him.

Yhampier, age 8

My favorite moment: After a pretty horrendous fit in his first week here, he began to tell me about how much he misses his mother. It was one of the most honest moments I've had here at the albergue.

Immediate prayer request: God's healing for wounds left behind after years of abuse and neglect

Pablo, age 5

My favorite moment: Pablo is always in trouble and having to go to bed early, so when one of the volunteers is in the house, I go in and sit with him while he goes to sleep, and we sing.

Immediate prayer request: improved behavior and a Godly family

Junior, age 11

My favorite moment: When Junior is in a really good mood, he dances (as seen in the picture above).

Immediate prayer request: Godly role models (especially men) whose example he can follow

Edwin, age 8

My favorite moment: With Edwin, it's impossible to define. He's the one that convinced me to come back here for a year to begin with. Every time he smiles, hugs, says, "Amo" a million times... I'm reminded.

Immediate prayer request: a family

Abraham, age 13

My favorite moment: The first time I stayed in a house, I was in the Amigos for 9 hours (that might as well have been 90). Toward the end of the night, Abraham came in and gave me a painting that he had done for me. It made all the difference.

Immediate prayer request: that he make wise choices and good friends

Juan, age 7

My favorite moment: Ms. Aly has been telling her class that I'm going back to "Los Estados Unidos", so he came into the bibloteca last week, hugged me, and said, "Tia, no te vayas a los todos unidos." Completely adorable.

Immediate prayer request: that his learning and overall concentration and retention will improve

Samir, age 12

My favorite moment: When the above picture was taken... he LOVES the new baby.

Immediate prayer request: God's healing in his life so that he can have a fresh start

Italo, age 11

My favorite moment: Italo was one of the kids chosen to go to Liz's father's wake when he passed away in October. Not only was Italo amazingly well-behaved and very supportive and comforting to his Tia Liz, he was also like a celebrity. Italo was the first orphan at the albergue, and everyone at the wake knew him and wanted to talk to him. He was like a little gentleman and handled it all with such grace.

Immediate prayer request: improved verbal communication and a family

Me encantan mis tesoros.

We Give Thanks...

2010-11-25T20:50:00.002-06:00

I'm taking a break from the kids for tonight.

The volunteers invited the workers from the albergue to eat Thanksgiving dinner with us tonight. Since I'm part Peruvian now, I felt the need to give a speech before we ate, but before I could even open my mouth, I felt that nasty lump well-up in my throat... you know, the one you get when you know you're going to cry. The lump shortened my speech significantly. It just hit me how much that group of people have changed me. Taught me. Embraced me.

They're my family now, too, and they'll be here caring and teaching and cooking and cleaning and meeting and worrying and praying... long after I leave on Monday.

Tonight, I'm so thankful for my Peruvian brothers and sisters, and I covet your prayers for them and their tireless work.

Joyous Light...

2010-11-24T19:24:00.014-06:00

Our Luces...

Lariza, age 12

My favorite moment: the day that I could finally understand everything she was telling me... she talks so quickly, and she smiled the day she knew I knew what she was saying and responded correctly

Immediate prayer request: a resolution for her family situation

Camila, age 7

My favorite moment: watching her eat two pieces of pizza, deciding she "didn't like it", and then eating a whole sub sandwich when we went out for her sister's birthday

Immediate prayer request: improved comprehension in school

Esthefany, age 13

My favorite moment (well, not so much favorite, but most touching): the day she came to me after a jarring visit from her parents and just let me hold onto her while she cried

Immediate prayer request: Improved behavior and attitude in school

Carolay, age 15

My favorite moment: watching her get more excited than I'd ever seen her when she was talking about Justin Bieber

Immediate prayer request: a smooth transition as she returns home to her mother in December

Roxana, age 14

My favorite moment: going to visit her brothers at another orphanage and having her dig her nails into my arm as we walked to the micro because, as she said, "You're Americans, and they're going to rob you"... her concern was completely endearing

Immediate prayer request: that her prayers would be answered and her family would be made whole again

Cristina, age 6

Favorite moment: watching her play with Joel and Lee (or any day she wears her sparkly pink converse)

Immediate prayer request: that her heart be healed from the loss of her mother to cancer

Brigitte, age 8

My favorite moment: Brigitte isn't immediately affectionate like the other kids. She comes to you in her own time. After two months at AIHE, I was in her house one night, and without any fanfare, she just came and crawled into my lap.

Immediate prayer request: a family

Heydi, age 9

Favorite moment: her 9th birthday party in the Miller school, complete with balloons, A Bug's Life hats, cake, and attention devoted solely to her

Immediate prayer request: a family

Yuliana, age 17

Favorite moment: the day she cut mine and Jen's hair... she was so scared

Immediate prayer request: that God would make her future clear to her and to the leadership of the albergue... she has less than a year left with us

Cristina, age 8

My favorite moment: anytime I can make her smile, even though it's usually at my expense

Immediate prayer request: solid friendships

Yuriko, age 10

My favorite moment: watching her dancing in the Mother's Day Program at her school (in the picture above)... she's just so amazingly graceful

Immediate prayer request: resolution in her family situation

You've Got a Friend...

2010-11-23T18:22:00.016-06:00

So... in less than a week, I have to say goodbye to these babies that I've lived with for almost a year, now. As I'm typing this I get teary-eyed and can't imagine what it's going to feel like to wake up every morning and not hear the noise of Abel dropping all of his breakfast dishes or have the promise of a Jorge-hug as I walk past the kinder room. I've seen countless other volunteers endure this time in their journey at Hogar de Esperanza, but, like anything else, it feels much more difficult when it's your turn.

There are a lot of things that I could blog about this week in regard to my time here, but I'd rather do this... tell you a little bit about each of our babies and beg for your prayers for them. The hardest part of leaving is the not knowing. This is an amazing place in many ways, and there are almost 20 amazing people who will still be here working with them day-to-day (and more to come), but it's still not a home. So, for each of our 44 babies, pray for just that. Pray that their homes be restored... that "what was broken can be made whole again" as my friend, Greg Fields, says. Or, pray that their broken lives be restored with a new family. Pray that your heart will be open to "care for the orphans" through adoption, giving, whatever. You have a Biblical mandate to help them (and the 147 million in the world just like them). Please start with prayer...

Today, let me introduce you to the Amigos...

Miguel (left), age 12

My favorite moment: watching his excitement as, at age 12, he finally began to learn his colors

Immediate prayer request: that God grant him a spirit of peace and love in place of one of violence and frustration

Fernando, age 10

My favorite moment: the morning he put on Jhon's baby cologne to impress a girl at school

Immediate prayer request: that he experience a real childhood instead of constantly feeling like the man of the house

Jhon, age 2

My favorite moment: watching Emma's "Bust a Move" video with him as he laughs out loud (I secretly hope they get married someday.)

Immediate prayer request: a family

Pedro, age 5

My favorite moment: anytime he tries to imitate my English

Immediate prayer request: that God shows him the difference between right and wrong despite the thousands of "wrongs" he's seen in his short life

Abel, age 8

My favorite moment: listening to him sing in the Miller School (or anytime he does his happy dance)

Immediate prayer request: improved behavior and a family

Alejandro, age 2

My favorite moment: the first time he smiled after the trauma of his arrival at Hogar de Esperanza (and the hundreds of times he's smiled since)

Immediate prayer request: rapid improvement in speech and overall development

Jorge, age 5

My favorite moment: our morning hugs

Immediate prayer request: that he come to know Christ at an early age

Eduardo, age 8

My favorite moment: watching him eat his first hamburger and first pizza

Immediate prayer request: that the paperwork move quickly for he and his sisters to go home to their amazing grandparents

Josué, age 15

Favorite moment: last week when I told him that we needed to take a picture before I leave and him replying by hugging me so tight and saying that a hug lasts forever (I'm crying as I type that one.)

Immediate prayer request: that God be so present in his life that he knows whatever the circumstance, he is loved and secure

Piero, age 10

Favorite moment: He's a loud-talker, so I'm always telling him, "Piero, I have ears. I can hear you." And, he always rolls his eyes at me and reponds, "Ay, mi Tia." I love that.

Immediate prayer request: a smooth transition as he and his sister return home to their mother in December

Paúl, age 6

My favorite moment: too many to count... Paúl pretending he's an airplane, a car, Jorge el Curioso, Tio Jonathan...

Immediate prayer request: good behavior at school and a family

Isaías 43 (No Temas)...

2010-11-05T16:42:00.003-05:00

This family was brought to us today. The mother (yes, that tiny, young woman is the mother of three) is 22 and has been the victim of incest and abuse by her brother. She couldn't stop crying as she left her three children with us. We're afraid that she has no place to go but back to her home and her brother. Rosita, 5, and Jessica, 6 months, are in the Chispas and Alejandro, 2, is in the Amigos. On days like this, the kids ask a lot of questions. Sometimes I'm saddened by how easily they understand the answers. As Whitney said while we were bathing Alejandro, "I'm going to cry about this later."

Extraordinary Way (Thankfulness Year 31)...

2010-09-21T23:11:00.003-05:00

So, at age 31, I should probably accept the fact that I'm not a great consistent blogger. Today, though... today, I have a lot to be thankful for...

-Ecuador

-Peru

-Texas

-Chocolate Tres Leches

-Friends

-Family

-Volunteers

-Students

-HTBC

-AIHE

-Buses

-Planes

-a camera that works...Facebook...adventure...

"...he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand..."

I'm never quite sure what's next, but I'm thankful for what has been so far... and I can't wait...

Gotta Serve Somebody (Month of Thanks days 5, 6, and 7)...

2010-09-10T18:17:00.004-05:00

One of the beautiful aspects of my job is that I'm able to see and participate in a million tiny acts of service everyday...

Today, I'm thankful because I was able to serve by reading with the boys in one of the houses. There's nothing quite like Curious George and Dr. Seuss in Spanish and the looks on the boys faces as they fall in love with the same characters that I loved as a child.

Yesterday, I was reminded over and over again how thankful I am for the volunteers, past and present and their constant acts of service for our kids...

...Harrison talking about dance with Josué... Jonathan refereeing the Tesoros for four hours... Kristi playing with Jorge, both laughing so loudly that you can hear them all over the albergue... Whitney listening to the concerns of Roxana and Lariza... Leah braving painting with two two-year-olds and a three-year-old... Jen teaching José Luís to pray every morning... Courtney joking with Italo in the Miller School... Susanna reading to Jhon every afternoon... Becca doing laundry with the "help" of Edwin and Pablo... John and Lori singing "Sweet Caroline" and "Roxanne" to Carolay and Roxanna, bringing the biggest smiles to their faces...

...I could go on and on. It's been a unique pleasure to see so many people give so much of themselves. And, the kids don't forget.

Wednesday, I had the sad duty of accompanying Alex, Carmen, and some of our kids to the wake for Liz's (our director) father. In that moment, I was thankful to see the way that our kids ministered to Liz. It was a testament to the example of service that she has set for them in the many years that she has worked here.

I Need Words (Month of Thanks Days 3 and 4)...

2010-09-07T09:28:00.003-05:00

Yesterday, I was thankful for language and the ability to learn to communicate with each other.

Today, I'm thankful for these words:

"Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up." Galatians 6:9

We Give Thanks...

2010-09-05T21:11:00.005-05:00

Last November, I attempted to blog my 30 Days of Thankfulness... I think I made it through day one. This month, in an attempt to remind our kids that we have a lot to be thankful for, we are celebrating the Month of Thanks here at the orphanage. I'm going to try to redeem myself and blog about the things that I am thankful for everyday. Everyone, kids and adults, is doing this everyday by creating a "Cadena de Gracias" or "Paper Chain of Thanks". Hopefully, I can remember to post my link on the blog...

Of course, this is Peru, so the Month of Thanks doesn't officially begin until seven days into the month on Tuesday, but I'm going to go ahead and start with yesterday and today.

Yesterday, I was thankful for the gift of firsts... for being there to witness the firsts- the first time Cristina tried Pizza, the first time Enrique ate a hamburger, the first time Jose Luis walked without help, the first time Sofia wrote her name by herself, the first time Jorge said, "FUNNY!" ¡Qué regalo!

Today, I'm thankful for rest- for us and for them.

Say Hello, Wave Goodbye...

2010-08-25T13:32:00.002-05:00

I haven't posted in over two months, so these are for the few followers who may still be out there...

We've had a lot of comings and goings in the last few months, and these are the videos of some of our toughest goings- John and Lori, Becca and Courtney, and Jen. I'll be writing more about them later, hopefully, but for now, enjoy the videos.

Where is the Life that Late I Led?

2010-05-30T15:35:00.003-05:00

I haven't posted in awhile, so here are the high (and low) points of life in the last month...

-We ate sushi... in Peru... it was amazingly good, and I'm adding the restaurant to my list of places to take visitors. Hannah and Hallie, get ready!!!

-Emily and Claire, two college students from Wisconsin, came for a visit, and they were amazing. We're now preparing for the great arrival of groups that occurs during any school break in the US.

-I went to Las Huacas for the third time... I'm now planning to get a job as a tour guide... or ceremonial priestess. I can tell you anything you need to know about forcing warriors to fight to the (almost) death and then decapitating the losers and drinking their blood...

-Our kids are amazing and hilarious.

-Enrique clicks and winks at any of the girl volunteers when they do something he likes. He's like a pick-up artist at the age of 9.

-Marita asked me if I knew milk. I didn't understand what she was talking about. I told her that I drank milk. She said, "But, Tia, do you KNOW milk?" I walked away after we talked in circles for awhile. Finally, Susanna figured out that Marita was trying to teach me about milk because I had the audacity to serve it to the Chispas lukewarm and not hot. Apparently, we Americans don't KNOW milk.

-Dante (the adorable Peruvian with the moustache and hat) pretends he doesn't want to be tickled... that he's too old for such nonsense. But, eventually, he'll come over and say, "Ok, Tia," and I can tickle him a little even though he's mature and cool.

-We took Paúl out for his birthday. He asked for three things- carros chocones (bumper cars), the electric stairs (an escalator), and ice cream. Real Plaza has all three, so we took him (with his brother, Fernando), and I'm pretty sure that he only stopped smiling when he was licking his ice cream. Also, he discovered the airplane ride, which he loved because he is always pretending he is an airplane. He'll say, "Tia, soy un avion," and he'll give me rides to the US where Abel pretends to be my dad. I just love our kids.

-Jhon threw up on me. He was in the library, reading with Susanna, we walked to the door for a second, and he threw up. It wasn't pretty, but I picked him up, mid-vomit, and took him to his house. I think it was one of my proudest moments since coming to Peru.

-My LOHS kids keep graduating. Another group graduated yesterday, and I was sad that I missed it. I was looking at their pictures and thinking about all of the time I spent with those kids, and I realized that I do miss teaching... that I do want to teach again. This time last year, I didn't know. But, I do miss it, and as the ever-wise Joel has told me many times over the last 12 years, there's a reason that I keep ending up with kids, especially teenagers. I'm not sure what life will look like when I come back, but I'm pretty sure I'll be back in a classroom of some kind, and for the first time in awhile, I'm excited about that.

The Long Defeat...

2010-05-09T18:24:00.001-05:00

There are weeks here at Hogar de Esperanza that are so normal... our kids seem normal... to be the ones taking care of them feels normal. They laugh, they play, they fight, they cry. They're just normal.

This week, though, they've felt anything but normal.

Courtney, Susanna, and John have all written about some recent moments that have been heartbreaking. We've all been brought to our knees by the realities of our kids' lives. It's here, just underneath the surface, everyday... even when they seem so normal. Mother's Day, though, seems to bring all of those hidden feelings rising to the top. How do you celebrate someone who for most of our kids is a memory, a Saturday visitor, a ghost? More to the point, how do you explain to them that it wasn't supposed to be this way, that they were supposed to have more... that they deserve more?

How do you explain the fall?

The Long Defeat is a song by Sarah Groves that has played over and over again on my iTunes (and in my head) this week. She says better than I can what I'm feeling right now. We at the albergue are fighting a battle that we can't win... there will always be orphans and broken families and limited resources. Thankfully, we "can't just fight when we think we'll win".

I have joined the long defeat

that falling set in motion

all my strength and energy

are raindrops in the ocean

so conditioned for the win

to share in victor's stories

but in the place of ambition's din

I've heard of other glories

I pray for an idea

and a way I cannot see

It's too heavy to carry

and impossible to leave

I can't just fight when I think I'll win

that's the end of all belief

and nothing has provoked it more

than a possible defeat

I pray for an idea

and a way I cannot see

It's too heavy to carry

and impossible to leave

We walk a while we sit and rest

we lay it on the altar

I won't pretend to know what's next

but what I have I've offered

I pray for a vision

and a way I cannot see

It's too heavy to carry

and impossible to leave

I pray for inspiration

and a way I cannot see

It's too heavy to carry

and impossible to leave

New Shoes, Baby Love, I Love to Read/ Books are Fun!, Words, and Letter to Me...

2010-05-02T21:29:00.012-05:00

These are 5 of my favorite things from this week:

1. About two weeks ago, Courtney and I went to Apiat, and I bought this great new pair of shoes, my first shoe purchase since moving to Peru in January. (That's quite the news story in itself.) This week, I wore the shoes. When Josue (our 15 year-old rebel) walked into the library and saw the shoes, our conversation sounded something like this-

"Tia, you bought those shoes in Peru."

"Yes, I did. How did you know that?"

"Those shoes are well-made and creative... those shoes you normally wear, they aren't made with creativity. They must be from the US."

This was better than the last conversation that I had with Josue which sounded like this-

"Josue, I'm sorry, but the internet isn't working, so you won't have internet time today."

"Tia, you weren't that fun when you arrived, then you were fun, and now, you're not fun again. What happened?"

Maybe if I wear the Peruvian shoes more, he'll think I'm fun again...

2. Liz (the orphanage director) and her husband invited all of the volunteers to eat at their house on Wednesday night. Liz had a baby about six weeks ago, and only a few of us had ever had the pleasure of meeting Mateo. We went to their house, watched Mateo sleep peacefully for most of the three loud hours that we were in his presence, ate Papa John's Pizza (provided by Liz) and chocolate cake (provided by us), played Catch Phrase (in English), and had some great conversation (mainly in Spanish).

3. I decided that I needed a new goal for myself... you know, because learning Spanish isn't really enough. So, I did some internet research and decided that I'm going to start reading through Newsweek's 100 Greatest Novels Ever Written. I couldn't just start with number 1 (mainly because it's War and Peace), so I decided to put the numbers 1-100 in a baggie and draw to determine the order in which I'll read the books. Well, I drew 14. Fourteen is Things Fall Apart, which I've read and taught for the last five years. And, while, one of the unwritten rules I've made for myself is that I have to read all of the books, even the ones I've read before, I decided that I would cheat just this one time. So, I put 14 back and drew again. This time I drew 39, On the Road by Jack Kerouac. I'm very excited about this one. Also, I realized that most of the books on the list are old enough that they're either free or really cheap on my Kindle. Very exciting stuff... I'll keep you updated on my progress...

4. Well, my Spanish is coming along... most of the time. I have really good days like Wednesday at Liz's house when I understood everything and actually contributed to the conversation. I also have really bad days. Last week at a Peruvian home, a man asked me my name, and I said, "I'm fine." Friday, I was trying to explain something to Carmen, and I just made up words. One of the kids was in the office and gave me a pitiful laugh. It's ok, though, because I was quick enough to realize what I really wanted to say and fix it... I have, however, become like a character that I once read about in a book called Lost. In the book, the old woman leaves odd notes around her home... she does this because she is possessed. Me, I leave notes around my room, my desk, in all of my 12 notebooks- they look like this...

I hear words or phrases and write them down... sometimes I remember how to use them, and sometimes I don't. Either way, it makes me feel better, and I figure that eventually they'll soak in. Apparently, my Spanish has improved enough that the workers here trust me to teach them English... but, I'll talk more about that next week...

5. And, finally, I received this in the mail on Thursday. I have to say, it's beyond exciting to receive any mail, but the reminder that people are praying for me arrived at a moment when I needed it more than I can explain. God and his people are proving so faithful in my time here... Thank you...

God is a DJ or Where I Belong...

2010-04-25T19:38:00.018-05:00

We've officially been overtaken by Glee here at the albergue. I know, it seems odd that the phenomenon would reach all the way to Peru, but we are officially hooked. We watched the first half of season 1 in record time and have planned our weekly schedule around our Thursday night viewings of the new episodes. (Yes, Thursday night viewings because we have to buy it on iTunes on Wednesday mornings, and Wednesday night is already Lost night.)

So, every Thursday, we have our volunteer meeting and watch Glee. As a result you can now hear such classics as Somebody To Love, Say a Little Prayer, and Defying Gravity floating through the biblioteca, casitas, and classrooms of Albergue Infantil Hogar de Esperanza. You can also hear the daily debate over the creepiness level of You're Having My Baby. (I definitely vote way creepy.)

The other result of our newfound love of Glee is that we (and by we, I mean Becca) have been inspired to write a musical about life here at the albergue. I won't say too much about that, for now, because if it really does happen, I will be posting the final result here, and I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise for anyone. I'll just tease you by saying that so far, the musical features the songs of the Beatles and the Police with special guest appearances from Edwin and Julie.

There really is a lot to sing about here at the albergue, and I realized today when I read my last post from 6 weeks ago how much things have changed. It doesn't feel so much like Wonderland anymore, these people are my people, and we laugh a lot... really loudly. I still feel homesick, but more often than not, it's just a moment that passes quickly when I see one of the kids or get to hang out with one of the volunteers. Don't get me wrong, I still dream about Tamolly's and MNSC and sitting around the table at Mom and Daddy's house with Lee laughing, but for now, that can wait. Really good, Broadway-number-worthy things are happening here...

A few of the really good things that have happened since I last posted...

Arnold finally got to meet his family and is now in Texas...

I finally went to the beach after having been here for almost two months...

My first official group came, and it was great... they were great. This is us visiting La Huaca de La Luna.

We had an Easter Egg Hunt with the kids... their first time to hunt eggs, and they loved it!

Susanna and I took Eduardo out to eat hamburgers for his birthday... I think his face says it all...

We went to Cafe Caramel for Easter lunch... it wasn't traditional, but it was amazing, and we now have a rule that we can go to Cafe Caramel every two weeks...

I stayed with the Chispas for 24 hours, and we went to the Rancho to bake cookies. They didn't turn out exactly how I wanted, but the girls (including Maricielo) loved them...

We had to say goodbye to Beks, for now, but we went out and celebrated...

...with karaoke...

Sam called Monday to say that she was in the hospital, so the girls and I hopped on a bus to Chiclayo to see what we could do to help. We went, we spoke English, and thankfully, she's better now and out of the hospital...

And, this is just Pedro, Paúl, and I at my desk in the biblioteca, where I spend most of my days.

Gozándome...

2010-04-24T15:14:00.002-05:00

We had to say goodbye to Beks last week, and the is the video we put together of her time here (It looks better if you actually click on the thing and go to YouTube and watch it... silly blogger)...

New Day...

2010-03-08T17:55:00.002-06:00

Thank you to everyone who was so encouraging this weekend.

I was talking to one of the other volunteers here, and we agreed that it's difficult to remember to post to your blog or update your status when you're having a good day. In those moments, you're just content to continue on and be happy. It's in the low moments when you long for home that you think to sit down and write about it. Sometimes, misery truly does love company.

So, thanks for indulging my low moment. It is truly amazing to know that so many people care about me and about the beautiful kids here in Peru.

His mercies really are new every morning, and this morning was no exception...

Wonderland...

2010-03-06T20:13:00.004-06:00

So... Denyse posted this last night...

And, since I read it this morning, I've had spontaneous crying fits all day.

The truth is, I've had better days. I've had much better days. For some reason, this has been a week of homesick. There's really no other way to say it.

I think it started when we were in town last week and I laughed. I laughed one of my really loud, projectile laughs. The Peruvians around us stared, and I think I embarrassed my tablemates. In that moment, two thoughts occurred to me- 1. This is the first time I've laughed like that since I came to Peru and 2. These aren't my people.

My people would have been laughing really loudly and uncontrollably with me.

I feel a little like Alice in Wonderland here. I don't really understand what everyone is saying to me most of the time. The rules of the game seem to be in a constant state of change, and I can't keep up. My body reacts strangely to everything that I put in my mouth.

So, when I read Denyse's post this morning, I was finally able to admit that I miss home... I miss familiar... I miss my people. I wish that I had been watching Alice in Wonderland last night instead of feeling like her.

The same part of me that likes to throw fits about shoes has been having a very strongly-worded conversation with God today. Some of the time, I feel like I know exactly why I'm here. Some of the time, I try to convince myself that I know exactly why I'm here.

So, today, in an effort to do something familiar, I decided to go and watch Alice in Wonderland. To do this, I had to take a bus and a taxi and pray that the movie times listed online were actually correct (because the last time the movies didn't open until after 3 for siesta). I arrived at the theater, walked up to the counter, and realized that even with all of my planning, I wasn't going to see Alice in Wonderland. Why?Because I had failed to notice that they weren't showing the movie with Spanish subtitles, they were showing it dubbed in Spanish. The whole effort (and 9 soles) is wasted if you don't actually hear the voice of Johnny Depp as the Mad Hatter (and if I only understand about half of what they're saying like every other conversation I have here).

While leaving the theater, though, I noticed the name of the movie in Spanish- Alicia en el Pais de las Maravillas... Alice in the Country of Wonders.

So, this is the thing... my people know that I can find meaning in anything, and I am probably overreaching with this one, but I'd like to think that in that moment I was being gently reminded that I'm here for a reason. And, as much as I'd like to settle for the familiar, right now, I am living in a country of wonders. A little boy is going to meet his family for the first time next week and will never again wonder if he is wanted, Josue (our 14 year-old rebel) talked to me for over an hour last night (after having given me the silent treatment for over a week), Edwin hugs me and says E-Liz-A-Bet everytime he sees me...

As Denyse quoted, "Everything will change, things will never be the same." Still, it was nice to be reminded this morning that I'm missed while I'm in Wonderland.

So Long, Farewell...

2010-02-27T21:36:00.002-06:00

So, three of our volunteers left this weekend, and this was our gift to them...

Suddenly Seymour...

2010-02-20T20:44:00.004-06:00

(I'm saving the best for last today...)

The worst thing this week... was that I realized that I am baby steps from being Adrian Monk. Seriously, I'm considering buying stock in baby wipes. When I first arrived, I carried them around in my bag and pulled them out before eating anything. Now, though, thanks to Peru and God's grace in sending me here, I'm getting better. A little better.

The funniest thing this week... was when I thought the worker on the bus was offering his hand to help me down the stairs, when really, he was kindly trying to collect the money that I had forgotten to pay for the ride. That's right... lock up your purses, call the police... I tried to steal my 50 cent bus ride into Trujillo. Luckily, as I stepped down, I heard the man say, "She doesn't know." Instantly, I knew that he thought I was a stupid American who didn't know I had to pay to ride the bus. I turned around and paid the man... but wait, it gets worse. The cab driver who was then taking me the rest of the distance to my destination turned around and said, while laughing, "Just don't forget to pay me!!!" Oh, Peru...

The best thing this week... was the conversation that I had with one of the volunteers. I've been meeting with the volunteers just to get a better feel for their jobs and any suggestions that they might have for the albergue (since I'm about to be "la jefa", as they say). Beks made this great observation about the resiliency of our kids. The meat of her comment was that kids come here broken, lonely, deprived (physically, spiritually, mentally), and within days of coming, the same kids are healthy, happy, on the road to hopeful.

The week that I arrived, a family of three- an 11 year-old, an 8 year-old, and a 18 month-old-had just arrived. They had been living on the streets with their two mentally handicapped parents. They were all malnourished, uneducated, and hopeless. Within the first week here, the baby gained 2 kilos (which I'm told is a lot). The two older girls started tutoria and began learning their alphabet. Now, a month later, the 11 year-old has friends and runs into my arms everytime I see her. The 8 year-old rarely stops smiling and can write her name, which is a huge step. The baby has learned to walk, smiles constantly, and waved goodbye when I said, "Ciao", to him today. The change in the lives of those three kids is nothing short of the miraculous grace of God... for us and them. The change in their lives is tangible and obvious, and how many times in life are we blessed enough to see that kind of thing, to be a part of that kind of thing?

In my own twisted mind, it reminded me of Little Shop of Horrors... yes, Little Shop of Horrors. Specifically, it reminded me of the song "Suddenly Seymour", when a downtrodden woman finally finds someone who believes in her, who loves her despite all of the bad that has happened to her, despite the fact that she thinks that she is unworthy...

...Show me your face, clean as the mornin'

I know things were bad, but now they're okay...

...Suddenly Seymour,

He purified me

Suddenly Seymour

He showed me I can

Learn how to be more

The girl that's inside me...

I was also reminded of this...

He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,

to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners...

to comfort all who mourn,

and provide for those who grieve in Zion-

to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes,

the oil of gladness instead of mourning,

and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.

They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of His splendor.

Isaiah 61: 1-3

Oh, God, that all of our kids could be "... plantings of the Lord for the display of (your) splendor."

Rain, Please Go Away...

2010-02-20T20:38:00.002-06:00

I know I've whined about the rain a lot, but the entire rainfall for the year in one day is a big deal. And, all-in-all, it turned out to be a bit of a blessing for those of us here at Hogar de Esperanza. Without electricity and internet, we played poker, talked, sang, played... basically, it was a great bonding time for us.

This is just a glimpse of the rain in Salaverry, which luckily wasn't hit as hard as we originally thought. God has truly been good to us in the last two weeks (and always).

I Think It's Gonna Rain Today...

2010-02-10T20:37:00.006-06:00

Human kindness is overflowing,

and I think it's gonna rain today...

So... in this last week-and-a-half of rains, floods, earthquakes, tsunamis (real or fictional), and loss of electricity and internet, it would be easy for me to have a bad, but instead, I'm going to have a good, better, and best for the week.

The good thing... is that we were visited by a group of Presbyterian doctors and dentists (yes, Lee, Presbyterians) on Friday, and they were so gracious to our kids. They had some great advice for us after their four hours at the orphanage, and Junior even survived a tooth extraction in the chapel... yes, tooth extraction in the chapel. I had a short moment of homesickness with the group... they were from Memphis, and the Southern accents were so comforting...

The better thing... is that we played in the rain on Friday. The madres had a training class at a church in town, and the volunteers were left alone with the kids on the first day of rain in months. So, schedules be damned, we played outside. Then, we had a candlelight dinner in the comedor. All-in-all, a great day.

The best thing... is that the way the kids refer to me has changed. I noticed when I arrived that they don't just say, "Tia Sam." They say, "Mi Tia Sam." And, on Monday, for the first time, I heard them say, "Mi Tia Elizabeth." (Even better, they said, "Mi Tia Elizabeth es bonita.") I LOVE that we're theirs...

Some Days You Gotta Dance...

2010-01-31T20:26:00.002-06:00

Best thing... I stayed in the Amigos House on Monday from 2-10 because the madre had to take Jon to the hospital when he swallowed a fish bone at lunch and choked. (This is not the good part.) The amigos is a house with 9 boys, ages 5-12, and I was there for bath time, dinner, and bed time... with 9 boys. Needless to say, life has not adequately prepared me to be the part-time mother of 9 boys, but we made it. They went to bed slightly less dirty than before I arrived and full from the dinner of rice and some kind of stew.

Before bed, Sam came in to update us on Jon and to help me in getting them to bed (for which I owe her, greatly). After she was finished talking, the boys started asking how long I was staying and who was going to be the new "boss of the Americans" after Sam leaves. When Sam told them that I am going to be the new "boss" and that I will be staying for a year, Abraham, the 12 year-old, said, "Awesome!" in perfect English, then proceeded to give me two art projects before the night was over. I think I'm going to like being the mother of 9 boys.

Worst thing... We had our first kids leave since I've been here.

Funniest thing... I finally made it to Julie. We met in the Plaza de Armas to watch the Marinera festival (shown in the video above) and go to lunch at Oviedo, the first restaurant at which I ever ate in Trujillo. The funny part is that the dancing was supposed to begin at 11. We arrived, very few people were in the Plaza, and we started to think we had confused the dates. And, of course, what do you do when you have extra time to kill? You go shopping. We shopped, we came back, the police were just beginning to clear the streets for the dancing. We ate, we came back, and the dancing was just beginning. For the record, our schedule from the Office of Tourism said that the dancing would begin at 11 am, which apparently, means 2 pm on Peru time. I have to say, as a person who has spent most of my life being late, I might just fit in perfectly here in Peru.

Blues for JD Salinger...

2010-01-28T12:50:00.002-06:00

As a junior in high school, I had a miraculously funny and sarcastic, chain-smoking, pants-ripping English teacher who gave me the opportunity to read Catcher in the Rye. It was one of forty or so books on a list that we were to choose from, and I chose it because it had a small asterisk next to the title signifying that reading that book required the signature of a parent or guardian.

Reading Catcher in the Rye was my one, small act of subversive behavior, and I didn't yet see the irony in that.

I read the book, fell in love with Holden Caulfield, and wrote my first research paper about JD, Holden, and all things teen angst and rebellion.

In the following months, I read every Salinger work that I could get my hands on, and, when creating my life list as a senior in high school, decided that I would some day meet the reclusive man and convince him that everything was not as bad as it seemed. I think the Baptist girl in me wanted to save Holden Caulfield and his creator...

Sadly, I'm going to have to mark that one off of my list... I never made it to New Hampshire. Still, I'm grateful for JD Salinger, the teacher that introduced me to him, and for books that stretch us to see things in a way that we never saw them before...

Time After Time...

2010-01-24T16:55:00.004-06:00

So... I've been here for a week and two days, and I think I've learned more in THIS week and two days than any other week and two days in my life. There have been many good, bad, and funny things this week, but these are the top three...

-The best thing this week... was spending Saturday morning celebrating Abel, Italo, and Edwin's birthdays. We went to Las Lagunas, a local park for swimming, playing, and eating. We ended up watching a penguin swim and being chased by two alpaca. It was a great day with four of the greatest kids (Abraham came along as Italo's friend, and he is a story in and of himself.)

-The worst thing... was getting sick on Friday morning and having to spend the entire day in bed. Thankfully, that seems to be subsiding, though I'm still avoiding street food and mayonesa con aji. Yikes is all that I can say about that...

-The funniest thing... has been transportation. I know that I talked about this last week, but the whole process still eludes me. I've fallen down on buses, missed appointments with friends because of late buses and confusing traffic circles, turned down taxis because they might or might not have an actual number on their car... (He swore the registration number was there, but sand or accidents or something had worn it off beyond recognition, and I wasn't about to take a chance.) Transportation is definitely one part of the year for which I was not prepared, but I'm getting it... slowly, but surely.

I wish I could say that it has all been good and funny with only the bad of sickness, but in the name of transparency, I have to admit that there are many bad things that I am praying through... bad things within myself, bad things in the past and present of these kids, bad things that are out of our control as an orphanage... Still, God is faithful, and for every bad thing, there are at least ten that are good and funny. Really, there are 43 great and hilarious things here, right now...

Incomplete and Insecure...

2010-01-17T20:39:00.007-06:00

I'm reading this amazing book right now that is a sequel to an amazing book I read this summer. You should definitely read both of them.

In the mean time, my favorite quote so far is from one of the authors... a son of a Louisiana sharecropper who, among other things, watched the grandmother who raised him be burnt alive in her house and endured years as a homeless man on the streets of Ft. Worth. Denver Moore says:

"If you is waitin to clean up your own life before you get out and help somebody else, you may as well take off your shoes and crawl back in the bed 'cause it ain't gon' happen. Jesus don't need no help from no perfect saints."

I quite agree.

You're the First, the Last, My Everything (or It's the Best, the Worst, My Funniest Thing)...

2010-01-17T20:32:00.004-06:00

Before you read, realize that I am working on becoming more transparent during my time in Peru... so, try not to judge, and proceed with caution.

As I type this, I am covered in sand and mosquito bites, and my feet already have a bizarre TOMS tanline. I just sprayed some of the “organic” bug spray that I bought in the hunting and camping section of Walmart before I left Texas. Apparently, organic means “smells like bat guano and rancid turnips”. So, while the bug bites are just mildly annoying, I’m firmly convinced that I may come home with lung cancer from the fumes of the bug spray. Still... sand, sunburn, bites, and cancer considered, these have been two of the most amazing days of my life.

Flights were beyond peaceful (largely due to the powerful drugs that allowed me to sleep, but God can use drugs, too, right?); luggage arrived late, but not too late; staff is amazing; kids are beyond adorable... God is very good.

I’m trying to keep this brief, so I’ve decided to post a best thing, a worst thing, and a funniest thing of my first two days...

-The best thing... was being reunited with the kids. I’ve pushed Edwin in the swing, held Abel’s hand as we walked around the albergue, sat on a bench and talked with Kevin Arnold and Marita, laughed with Paul as he showed-off his Ingles... LOVE THEM!!!

-The worst thing... probably falls into a best category, too. My Spanish is bad... worse than I thought. And, for some reason, I suddenly have Spanish stage fright and can’t bring myself to speak to any of the adults, Peruvian or American, in Spanish. I don’t mind speaking to the kids, but I can’t speak to the adults. Don’t know why. So, this morning in church, I was praying that God would show me a way to learn more quickly... that the language barrier would no longer be a barrier. So, what happens next? A miraculous church member named Dorcas walks over to Sam and me after the service and (speaking perfect English) offers to come to the Albergue twice a week to help volunteers with their Spanish. An answered prayer, if ever I saw one.

-The funniest thing... is that I took the bus back to the Albergue from Trujillo... ALONE for the first time. We were running late to church this morning, so Sam offered to drive the Albergue’s bus. We went to church, went to lunch, and then decided we needed to separate because Sam and Becks had business to take care of in town, and I was ready to come back to HDE. So, Sam walked me to the bus stop (which is just a corner), told me to look for a blue and yellow bus, and told me to tell the bus monitor to “baja al albergue (stop at the orphanage)” when I saw the “Botanias” sign. In Sam’s defense, she did wait with me, pushed me on the bus when it arrived, and screamed at the monitor as the bus drove away to “baja al albergue”. So, I ran onto the bus, which was full... crazy full... I grabbed the handle and tried not to fall onto the lovely Peruvian family who was sitting below me. Suddenly, the Texas girl in me came out, and I thought, “What am I doing on a public bus?” I had flashes of news stories about shootings on DART buses and had a mini panic attack because my usual protection device, the fist of keys, was unavailable to me... because I no longer have keys. (I contemplated the use of my sunglasses as a means of security, but decided that would leave my own eyes vulnerable to someone who might actually have keys.) Needless to say, eventually, I calmed down; someone vacated a seat, and I sat down; and, I got to spend 25 minutes with some lovely Peruvian people. I never saw the “Botanias” sign, but the driver did “baja al albergue”, and I lived to tell the tale.

Last week I told some friends that I knew God was going to do something beautiful and miraculous, and He’s already proving faithful. Can’t wait to see what comes next...

Home (Thankfulness Day 2)...

2009-10-28T23:07:00.002-05:00

So raise a glass and gather round,
Toast the night and friendships found.
And I'll lay to rest my troubled face,
And breathe deep this amazing grace.

So, I literally have five posts saved that were supposed to be "Thankfulness Day 2"... things for which I am very grateful. Still, I haven't found the right words, and I have painted (or written, or really, not written) myself into a corner, now. If I'm going to have "Thirty Days of Thankfulness" completed by Thanksgiving, I now have to write a post a day. I can see Denyse rolling her eyes... we'll see how that goes. I'll get to the other five topics eventually, but today...

I'm thankful for old and new friends and for a place where I've been hanging out with old and new friends for 19 years, now.

Get on the Good Foot...

2009-10-01T23:48:00.006-05:00

The foot picture idea is catching on...

Scuba-girl Hallie at the pool last summer...

Nancy, Andy, and Tori at a wedding...

Hannah Kate and the GHS Lady Lions before a tournament...

Thanks for the pics, guys!!!

Love in This Club (Thankfulness Day 1)...

2009-10-01T23:24:00.006-05:00

Last year, when Mark was off being a soldier and Joel was off being a rock star, Denyse, Paige, and I started Monday Night Supper Club. Basically, the idea was that Monday was the worst day of the week for us, so why not give ourselves something to look forward to? We decided that each of us would cook one Monday a month, and on the fourth Monday, we would eat out.

Well... unlike many of the projects that we undertook last year (marathons, cupcakes, etc.), this one stuck. For me, it has become a highlight of the week, and as the ever-wise Joel has said, we've created a community.

We've added members. We've had one-night-only guests. Sometimes, the boys are there, sometimes they aren't. Sometimes we stay on schedule and have delicious, gourmet meals. Sometimes, we frequent Papa Murphy's and Big Baby's. Sometimes, we debate the merits of Calvinism and form grand plans for missions funding. Sometimes, we discuss the UPS man and form grand "That's what she said!" jokes.

Either way... we know that there's a group of people to eat and laugh with on Monday nights, and for that, I am thankful...

I Have You to Thank...

2009-10-01T22:48:00.004-05:00

Last year, my favorite blogista, Denyse (like the title I gave you?), wrote for thirty days on the things for which she is most thankful. Of, course, being a blogista, she did this in thirty consecutive days. I, not being a blogista (but an aspiring imaginista), plan to do Thirty Days of Thankfulness beginning now and finishing on Thanksgiving Day.

I've been thinking about this for awhile, but as I close in on three months left in the states before my big adventure in Peru, I'm starting to feel the sadness for some of the things that I have already left and will be leaving behind (at least for a little while). This isn't a bad thing...

I pitched a hissy fit at God a few weeks ago when I couldn't find the black boots that I wanted to wear to church. In a panic, I just knew that I had donated them, along with many of my other beloved shoes, in the spring when I was feeling the urge to purge myself of all of my worldly possessions and set out on my quest to save the world. On that Sunday morning a few weeks ago, realizing that the me in the spring thought that I would forever be able to subsist on Toms, Converse, and flip flops, the me in the fall was angry. I was frustrated with myself... I was frustrated with God... I began to cry... over a pair of black boots... that I eventually found in the attic later that day. But, in that moment when I had obviously lost some perspective, the boots represented all of the things that I was giving up- my house, my car, my job, my kids, my comfort.

Now, of course, I'm back in my right mind (with my boots within view as I type), and I am beyond excited to be going to Peru. Still, I feel like I was given these months in the in-between to reflect on the blessings that I've enjoyed over the last five years... over the last thirty years. So, that's the plan. Thirty Days of Thankfulness. (And, no, I won't be devoting a whole day to the boots... maybe to shoes, in general, though.)

For Freedom...

2009-08-17T17:01:00.004-05:00

Well... I was in China for part of the summer, and I have been remiss in posting anything about the trip (or anything for that matter). Needless to say, it was amazing. Hopefully, I'll be writing more later this week, but for right now, I've been playing around with iMovie. The pictures aren't the best, but it gives you a small glimpse of one of my new favorite countries.

I chose the song because:

1. I've recently become obsessed with any music from Jimmy Needham, and...

2. During my time spent in China and following the trip, I've been thinking a lot about our idea of freedom.

I may expound more on my brilliant thoughts later this week, but for now, enjoy the video...

God Bless the USA (and the people who cry every time they hear the song)...

2009-07-23T16:00:00.002-05:00

Denyse,

I love you because...

-You will love George W. Bush until the day you die, and it doesn't matter what others may say. You're nothing if not loyal.

-You've stood in the same room with W and Bono, and you wouldn't dream of bragging about it ; )

-You, like I, wanted to be a country superstar when you were young. And, although I think Dolly makes more sense than Johnny, I appreciate your good taste in music.

-You appreciate a good "That's what she said..." joke and the occasional inappropriate (if somewhat grammatically incorrect) t-shirt. Sometimes you wouldn't even know that you're a minister's wife (in a good way).

-Your a great traveller. You believe in the possibility of seeing everything in NYC in three days, and yet, you understand the necessity of a good afternoon nap while at DisneyWorld or the beach. We've seen the wonders of the world and the wierdest of the world together... Machu Picchu and Lobsterman. I'm grateful that I've seen it all with you!

-You're funny. Not in-your-face, center-of-attention funny. You're under-your-breath, behind-their-back funny (in a good way).

-You're paranoid... I mean discerning. You can see to the heart of people. And, while I know it can be a burden, I'm glad that you use your gift for good instead of evil.

-You have raised the most unusual children I've ever known (in a good way). They are funny and creative and sarcastic and... well, great. They are our walking consciences. They are going to get even better, I'm sure.

-You care about people. I constantly hear your voice in my head saying, "They just need Jesus." I know you say it jokingly when it's about the characters in "Rent", but I also know that you see needs that I often overlook.

-You're here. I know you didn't want to be, but the last 14 years wouldn't have been the same without you. Thanks for leaving better to come to worse because you made it better.

For these and many other reasons, I love you!!! Happy 26th Birthday, Denyse!!!

Think About It, Think, Think About It...

2009-05-27T20:37:00.001-05:00

Lee,

I love you because...

-"There's people on the streets getting diseases from monkeys.Yeah, that's what I said, they're getting diseases from monkeys.Why's this happening, please, who's been touching these monkeys?Leave these poor sick monkeys alone

They're sick, they've got problems enough as it is..." You get this.

-You embody that great line from Steel Magnolias when Julia Roberts says, "An ounce of pretention's like a pound of manure." You are who you are, and if they like it, that's great. If they don't, you don't stress.

-You don't try to hide your vices. I won't list them here, though.

-You appreciate the irony.

-You're one of the best friends I've ever seen. You genuinely care about the people that you call friend. More uniquely, you have this bizarre circle of friends that don't seem to make sense, but when you're with them, they do. I envy your openness to people.

-You appreciate real talent and strive for it in yourself. You're hard on people who have much success with little justification, but you're harder on yourself (with less reason).

-You can quote all the best lines from all the worst movies, and sometimes, you seem to channel the spirit of Chris Farley.

-You want to know more. You don't really care about degrees and accolades, but you have this desire to gain knowledge so that you'll be equipped to do the things that you've been called to do.

-You laugh with me... at inappropriate times and for completely immature reasons. We have the best family dinners, and it's probably best that I don't say anymore.

-You have this incredible heart. I've told you that I envy your sensitivity. I know that you see it as a weakness, but you're this amazing contradiction of giant grizzly bear on the outside and sweet teddy bear on the inside. (Doesn't that sound like an ad for something?) Anyway... I can't say enough... you're my most difficult critic and maybe the person in the world that I'd most like to make proud. I'm glad we didn't kill each other as children... I like you, now. Oh, and you're not adopted.

Happy Birthday!!!

Daughters (should be so lucky)...

2009-05-03T20:05:00.004-05:00

So... I didn't forget the birthday. I just forgot that I had this series of blogs. Especially sorry that this one is late!

Daddy, I love you because...

-You have a sordid past. I won't go into detail, but people never believe that Big Gar has a seedy history. (Okay... maybe seedy is a bit strong...) Obviously, their disbelief is evidence of a miraculous change, but I still secretly find it amusing and a little comforting that you're evidence that God really does look out for us even when we wander a little (or a lot). Thanks for being honest with us.

-You took me fishing and shooting... exactly once each. Well, you only took me fishing on the boat once. I love you for having hobbies about which you're passionate... that you didn't feel the need to pass onto me. You don't even roll your eyes that much when I go on an anti-gun tirade. (Lee's militia-ready stash covers both of us, right?)

-You can use words like "dogmatic" and "ain't" in the same sentence. Beautiful contradictions...

-You taught me to cocoon. My students coined this phrase. It's the way that you and I shut down when we're angry. Instead of screaming, we become silent. I didn't realize what a gift this was until I realized the millions of times that I would have said things I would have regretted if I hadn't gone into my cocoon. Thank you for cocooning.

-You encourage people... always. You see the beauty in people that no one else may see.

-You read. I loved books before I could read them because you showed me that they were important.. the leather-bound War and Peace and the Little Golden Book Cinderella.

-You write. I've always been fascinated by the journals that you keep, and I hope that I'll someday have the consistency that you do.

-You listen when it's wise and speak when it's righteous. "May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart..."

-You let us become who we're supposed to be... praying hard all the time. Lee and I aren't normal... I don't know if you've noticed. Thanks for being okay with Chandler and Piper and Miller and Lewis and Obama and Barr and St. Louis and Peru... and surrogate grandchildren for the time being.

-You love Mom. You love her in a way that everyone can see it and know that she is priceless to you. It's not just her-it's Grandpa and Susie and Mary Ann and Lee and I-but, it's most importantly her.

For these, and infinite other reasons, I love you, Daddy! Happy Birthday!!!

Is This Love?...

2009-04-24T16:08:00.005-05:00

So, we celebrated William Shakespeare's 445th birthday in my classes this week. Ironically, he also died on his birthday, and one of my students suggested a wake, instead, but I thought a birthday party more appropriate.

My ninth graders read Romeo and Juliet each year (as I'm sure most of us did as ninth graders), and as an introduction, I had them read Sonnet 116 and respond with their own prose or poetry defining love.

With their permission, here are some of the highlights:

"Love is..." by K

Love is...

... not a crutch to be thrown away when one feels better.

... not a fading rose, a thing that loses substance and

dies with the season's passing.

... a part of God, our protection against evil and the prince of air.

... a force of nature, invisible,

powerful enough to move the unextraordinary to do the impossible,

but when absent, devastating enough to drive a saint to the unspeakable.

...a cord of communion, stretching between two people,

attaching them 'lest the cord be broken,

at which time, either being at the ends of the cord

take to bleeding inwardly in the agony of solitude.

... the missing element, what Hitler needed to prevent himself from mass genocide.

... eternal.

"Love..." by B

Love is the neverending power in our world that creates all things good.

Without love, we would be in utter chaos.

Love is the driving force that has carried man through time. Love lasts forever.

It never subsides.

Love grows through time.

Love should not be a temporary thing. It is a lifetime commitment.

Love is not found by sight alone but by seeing the person within.

Take heart unto whom you love, for you might not experience the ultimate power of this unexplainable emotion.

And my favorite...

"Love is not Real" by M

Love is not real.

I hate how it makes you feel.

It makes you cry, it makes you sad.

When it's all over, you'll be glad.

I've looked for love, left and right.

And when I look, no love's in sight.

They will make you scream; they will make you shout.

They will throw a right hook and knock you out.

They will hit you while you're on the ground.

And, they will laugh and dance all around.

And, when it's all over they will want you back...

like a fat kid wants a Big Mac.

Respond/ React...

2009-04-24T16:00:00.002-05:00

Joel responded to my "Is It Any Wonder?..." post here. He's a good writer, and we think he should have his own blog, so persuade him if you like.

Mi Peru

2009-04-19T21:49:00.001-05:00

So... I'm moving to Peru in January 2010 to work at Hogar de Esperanza for a year. That's most of what I know right now, but keep reading for the reasons why.

Is It Any Wonder?...

2009-04-19T20:32:00.004-05:00

Dear Joel,

You asked what led to my decision to move to Peru for a year. No one else has asked... although, one person did say that they always thought I was the kind who would make a snap decision and do something crazy like that... not sure how to take that one. Anyway... I thought your question deserved a response.

If I were a Calvinist (as my brother believes I am), I would say that everything in my life has been leading to this point, and it has been planned since before my birth. While I won't go quite that far, I will say that you have to have seen this one coming.

Since Denyse accuses me of being a long-blogger, I'm going to try and keep this one as short as possible, so here's the list of things that have led to my decision:

-My parents didn't leave us with grandparents when we were young to go on cruises or European getaways... they left us to go to New Mexico and Utah and the Texas border to work with kids and build churches.

-You and Denyse were with them.

-My favorite middle and high school memories aren't of games and dances and sleepovers but of days spent singing "Me Lavo" and refinishing Lord's Supper tables and nights spent taking cold showers and sleeping on church floors.

-You and Denyse (and Becky) were there.

-While working at HTBC one summer as an intern, a man who "knows things" said, "Richard is taking a group to Peru. Would you be interested?"

-You "know things".

-When I had no direction after finishing college, I was abandoned by a friend and left to continue working at HTBC where I caught some kind of bug that forces me to work long hours for little pay or recognition (except the occasional kind word from a teenager who finally gets it). Some would call it service.

-You are definitely the kind of friend who would abandon me (and you caught the same bug long before I did).

-When seminary left me sad and without direction, again, I told you I was going to teach. You asked me if I "wanted" to teach or if it was "just something to do". I didn't know the answer then, but I kept that in my mind, and I knew from the first day that working with kids would never be "just something to do". It will always be something I "want" to do.

-For you, it was never "just something to do".

-Three days before I told Denyse and Paige (and consequently, you) that I was going to Peru, you pulled me to the side at Monday Night Supper Club to show me an article about missions. Your favorite quote was something like, "We will give a week, but are we willing to give a year?"

-Seriously, you want to know what led to my decision?

My life is full of people like my parents and Becky and Richard and Denyse and you who have shown me over and over again that we are here to serve... this decision was only a matter of where.

So, while it's not an exhaustive list by any means... God used you (and those like you) to lead me to my decision. I'll try to convince Daddy not to hold you accountable, though. Right now, he's blaming Richard.

Houston...

2009-04-19T20:14:00.008-05:00

So, my championship team and I headed to Houston two weekends ago for competition. They were fabulous (as expected), and they came in 5th place and won the Renaissance Award.

Having said that... the best part of the trip was our day at the Downtown Aquarium and our trip home with stops for bluebonnet pics, Sam Houston pics (complete with H saying repeatedly, "I would LOVE to climb Sam Houston!"), and barbecue in Centerville.

At the end of the day... I just like the kids.

More than Words...

2009-03-31T23:48:00.013-05:00

What Do You Do with a B.A. in English?

2009-03-01T22:44:00.002-06:00

What do you do with a B.A. in English,
What is my life going to be?
Four years of college and plenty of knowledge,
Have earned me this useless degree.

I can't pay the bills yet,
'Cause I have no skills yet,
The world is a big scary place.

But somehow I can't shake,
The feeling I might make,
A difference,
To the human race.

What do you do with a B.A. English?

Apparently, you coach a DI team... that is going to state!!!

Sixteen Going on Seventeen (or Twenty-Eight Going on Twenty-Nine)...

2009-02-19T22:12:00.000-06:00

Mark,

I love you because...

-You are infinitely surprising. Paige, Lee, and I have had to play Friends Trivia by ourselves because you were so mesmerized by The Sound of Music (hence the post title). That was the first time I was introduced to the numerous facets of your personality and interests. You haven't ceased to surprise me since.

-You eventually finished the movie and played Friends Trivia with us.

-You were smart enough to marry one of the best women I know, and you've proven that you're deserving.

-You have survival skills. While three tours in Iraq seems like the most obvious example to go with this one, I'm thinking that the Commerce apartment you shared with the boys is a better demonstration of your ability to endure dire conditions and make it out the other side.

-You are half of the team that brought Jilly Bean and Emmalicious into the world.

-You can be seen in Jilly every time she makes a face and in Emma when chaos is going on all around her and she's just hanging out, completely mellow.

-You watched Superbad with me when your wimpy wife fell asleep in the opening credits, and surprisingly, it wasn't that awkward.

-You're quietly passionate about things. You don't have to make a spectacle, but your commitment to everything from cars to your family to Christ is something you live. (Obviously, I'm not saying you love cars as much as your family or Christ... although...)

-You don't let things bother you. Paige and I have joked that you are perfectly suited to live in a war zone. It sounds freakish... and maybe it is... but you seem to have this ability to find peace in the midst of the storms around you. I envy that.

-You have two names. One even has it's own sound effect... perfected by Lee.

-You can be in two places at once. You are so a part of your family and friends that your presence is felt every moment, even when you're on the other side of the world.

For these and many other reasons, I love you! Happy 28th birthday, Mark!!!

Mother Mother

2009-02-15T21:50:00.000-06:00

"I'm losing my mind... everything's fine."

I feel very much on the outside of things tonight. Not "Why can't I sit at the cool kids table?" left out, but "Why can't I just think the way everyone else I know thinks?" left out. I'm faced with the fact that I can't reconcile what I believe to be true with what I hear everyone else saying. It's frustrating, and it leaves me wishing that I could just let some things go.

Obviously, those of you who aren't around me regularly or who weren't at church tonight have no idea what I'm rambling about or even where my title comes from, and I'm not going to go into further explanation in this post for fear that it will further be confirmed that I'm alone in my frustration.

All I'm really trying to say is, I would like to wake up tomorrow and be less like Debbie Downer.

Baby Blue...

2009-02-14T17:28:00.003-06:00

Emmalicious,

I love you because...

-You demanded our attention from the beginning. I had driven 14 hours to Colorado two Junes ago to visit your mom and sister while the army had taken your dad away for a month. I walked through the door and was instantly on my way out again to buy Emetrol and crackers at Walgreens. Two days later, your mom knew for sure that you were on your way.

-You overcame your in-utero addiction to Dr. Pepper. It takes a strong infant...

-You make great faces. Your mouth can only say "Daddy", "doggie", "no", and "I did it", but your face says everything else.

-You're a woman who knows how to use timing to her advantage. Your mom wanted to arrive days before you did, but who can forget a Valentine's Day birthday? I think you've been walking secretly for weeks, but you're waiting for your Dad to get home to let the rest of us in on the secret. Great timing!

-You can change the mood of a room. Your laugh brings humor; your cry brings sadness. What power you have for a one-year-old!

-You can pull off some great outfits! You're like the Carrie Bradshaw of the toddler crowd.

-You're content to let Jillian think she's running the show.

-Your face is one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen!!!

-You like to snuggle. Even now, you make the people lucky enough to be in your life feel loved.

-You're sure to continue shocking and impressing in the months and years to come! I'm prepared to be surprised and awed by you!!!

For these and many other reasons, I love you, Emma!!! Happy 1st birthday!!!

A Boy Named Sue and A Girl Named Hallie...

2009-02-01T21:24:00.003-06:00

This one is far past due, but I was snowed in, so you'll have to forgive me...

Hallie Beth, I love you because...

-You've attracted an audience since the day you were born. It was snowing and icy, and I had spent the day sledding down a hill on a cafeteria tray. But, I, like many others, made the trek to the hospital to see you, and it was well-worth it. You were a beautiful baby!

-You've always had a style (and mind) of your own. Rooster is an interesting look for a baby, but you pulled it off. It is unlikely that many people would look at a Johnny Cash at San Quentin t-shirt and think it would be perfect for a nine year-old, but that shirt says Hallie all over it.

-You like to play the piano, and you had a gift for it before you even took lessons. We always knew you would be a rockstar!!!

-You dream great dreams... literally. Dreams so real that you think they happened. And, while I'm glad that I wasn't really eaten by a shark in Galveston, I appreciate the conviction with which you wrote the story about my tragic death.

-Taylor, the Latte Boy... you love him, you love him, you love him.

-You have a great smile, and you get humor!

-You have a better smirk, and you get sarcasm (better than your teenage sister).

-You are a patient teacher. You help Jilly Bean. You help your friends. You help me, even when I can't Wii bowl to save my life.

-You are wise beyond your years. It may take you twelve years to tell a story, but there is truth to be found at the end of those twelve years.

-You're only going to get better. Whether it's as a goat farmer, future keyboardist for Mercy Me, mother of 5 adopted children, or whatever God has planned for you... I can't wait to see it. Thanks for letting me watch the show that is Hallie!!!

For these and many other reasons, I love you! Happy incredibly late birthday, Hallie!!!

Be Thou My Vision in Elizabethtown

2009-01-04T22:06:00.006-06:00

So, Denyse says that I need to release myself from my current blog restraint of song titles. She says she thinks I would blog more. Secretly, she was just annoyed by the music that played on my blog. Secretly, the music on my blog was illegal and being removed from other social networking sites, so in the name of not being arrested for stealing music, I have taken her advice and decided to expand my horizons on my blog. (It's a new year, and I should blog more, and Tracey resolved to blog more, and I should probably follow suit, but as I told one of my DI kids the other day, they suck the life out of me, or at least all of the rational thought.) But, in my new blogging freedom, I decided to write a blog inspired by a song and a movie. Baby steps...

Elizabethtown is a movie that I saw several years ago with Paige (or that's what she said, and it sounds right). I didn't like it the first time I saw it. I'm not sure why. I'm learning that I judge and dismiss too quickly, and I don't like Kirsten Dunst's teeth. Also, I think Orlando Bloom is really only best with long blond hair, pointy ears, and a bow and arrows surfing down the trunk of an elephant. Well...whatever it was that led me to dismiss Elizabethtown at the time, I was wrong.

I saw the movie on TV yesterday, and it is full of brilliant, illuminating quotes. It is also hilarious- knives ducttaped to excercise bikes, Susan Sarandon tap dancing at her husband's memorial service after telling an incredibly inappropriate story about an "excited" neighbor, a Kentucky family that is all-too familiar that can't remember the difference between California and Oregon, Chuck and Cindy- The Wedding, "Rusty's Learning to Listen" Video. It is loaded with incredible music- Tom Petty, Ryan Adams, Patty Griffin, Lindsey Buckingham, My Morning Jacket, The Temptations...

But, more importantly, full of brilliant quotes:

"If it wasn't this, it would be something else."

"This loss will be met by a hurricane of love."

"I'm hard to forget but difficult to remember."

"You wanna be really great... Then have the courage to fail big and stick around and make them wonder why you're still smiling."

"I teach him things that everybody should know. I teach him about Abraham Lincoln and Ronnie Van Zandt because in my house, they are both of equal importance."

And my favorite...

"And, in that moment I knew... success... success, not greatness, was the only god the entire world served."

Now, you may be thinking, "Elizabeth, you should go back to song titles alone because you seem to have no point."

Well, "Relax", I say. I do have a point.

I've been trying to come up with a New Year's Resolution that actually makes sense. I could list the weight losing, money saving, house cleaning, car washing, blog writing, mind-numbing resolutions that I obsess over daily. But, really, I want to be about more. So, as I thought about the difference between success and greatness, I was listening to Pedro the Lion and heard this:

"Riches I heed not, nor man's empty praise,

Thou my inheritance, now and always;

Thou and Thou only first in my heart,

High King of Heaven, my treasure thou art."

This year I want to see Greatness. I want to be committed to discerning the difference between His idea of greatness and our idea of success and working toward the former. I want to end 2009 a little less concerned about weight and money and the cleanliness of my house. I want, in baby steps and giant steps, to turn my priorities upside-down.

Be Thou my vision in Elizabethtown.

Joel is Cool... (AKA Smoke on the Water)

2008-12-21T15:33:00.002-06:00

Joel,

I love you because...

-You have your own song... how cool is that!

-You tell one great fish story, and every time you tell it, you're just as excited as the first time... even if it's four-o'clock in the morning, we're on a bus driving through the dark, treacherous roads of Mexico and South Texas, and we've just eaten questionable lunchables from a gas station for dinner... still, you can tell a great fish story. It is second only to your "Driving in the Sand Dunes" story.

-On the list of people that modeled how to be patient and loving with less-than-patient-and-loving people, you are tied for first with my mother. I think daily, "How would Joel respond to this whiny teenager?" Sometimes I fall short, but I have endless examples that you have given to pull from in times where patience is required.

-You like to clean. I know that we make fun of you for cleaning every time we are at your house, but it is nice, and it's just a symptom of the kind of guy you are. You will do whatever it takes to make others comfortable... a rare thing...

-You can laugh at yourself.

-You love your family. Your a great husband, father, son, brother... Anyone can see how much you genuinely care about your family. Even when you're on the road, they know that you care and that you know what's going on. You're more present and involved than some people who are at home all of the time. You're right up there with my dad in this department, and that's good company.

-You know things.

-You love your church. You've stuck with it. You want to be a part of making it what it should be.

-You can turn anything into a spiritual metaphor... anything.

-You haven't let the rock star thing go to your head... even with all of the celebrity numbers in your phone...

-You're the picture of a servant. I know that you and Denyse wouldn't have chosen to move back to Greenville 12 years ago. But, you did, and you made a really awful situation better. You made my situation better. I could say more... but, I'm wandering into sappy territory.

Just know that for these and many other reasons, I love you!

Happy 28th Birthday, Joel!!!

Baby, It's Cold Outside...

2008-11-11T21:15:00.004-06:00

'Tis the season for Christmas shopping. I've been fretting, trying to decide the perfect gifts to buy my beloved friends and family. "What," thought I, "could I buy my loved ones this year that would warm their hearts (and hands and feet at the same time)? Where is the gift that says I love Star Wars and might also belong to a cult? Is there a gift that we can all wear to the park on cold days that will allow us to still pick up our cell phones without getting tangled?" I think I found just such a gift. Look out friends, this year, it's gift perfection...

Lost!

2008-11-02T20:47:00.003-06:00

"Every door I ever tried was locked..."

I had my blog-worthy moment in New York City.

Joel said, "We can get on the W train."

I said, "Joel said we can get on this W train."

I stepped onto the train... I felt my hand almost caught in the door behind me... I turned around to the stunned faces of my friends as we all realized that there was no way to get the doors open again. I was on the W train alone about to "hurdle through the bowels of the earth in a steel tube" as Denyse (or Gandalf, as I like to call her) would say.

They didn't know if they should laugh or cry. Joel just mouthed the words, "Times Square! Times Square!" through the glass. I mouthed the words back, and Paige thought I was saying Tom Thumb. She was frightened that I might try to find the Tom Thumb stop on the W train. Luckily, there is no Tom Thumb stop, so further chaos was avoided.

The W started to hurdle, so I sat down. I immediately decided to try to fit in, so I put my white iPod earbuds in (carefully leaving my actual iPod in my purse like all savvy New Yorkers), but I didn't actually turn my iPod on for fear that I might miss the call for my stop or the scary mugger whispering in my ear for me to surrender my hidden iPod and my Metrocard. The time of day worked to my advantage, sort of. The car wasn't full, so I wasn't surrounded by frightening New Yorkers (who might try to "touch me inappropriately" even though "a crowded car is no excuse"). I say this was "sort of" to my advantage because I was, apparently, the only audience member for the "Business-Man Umbrella Martial Arts Show" taking place on my end of the train. Seriously, it was like an African-American Dwight Schrute practicing his judo on his way to a business meeting. I became afraid that he might try to use me for some real practice, and none of the passengers on the car were close enough to hear my cries for help with their white earbuds blaring the music from their iPods that were actually on. Oh, and cell phones won't even begin to work in the bowels of the earth.

Well... I survived, got off at Times Square, not Tom Thumb, and happily met my friends as they came off the N train. Denyse and I may have hugged five times in the twenty-five years that we've known each other, but she hugged me then. I felt loved. Paige and Denyse decided that it was good that I was the one to be sacrificed to the bowels of the earth without the aid of the fellowship because they both would have broken down in tears. They soooo would not fit in with us New Yorkers.

Joel commented that my fifteen-minute adventure would make a great blog post, so here are the deep theological applications that I found in the depths of despair and New York City: Sometimes in life we feel lost, like everyone has abandoned us, and we can't understand where we're supposed to go or what we're supposed to be doing. We try to overcome this by looking like we know what's going on, when in reality we are scared out-of-towners in a place that we know is not our home, and we're too far down to feel like anyone can hear our desperate cries for help. But, if we'll hold on, loving arms will find us just a few stops down the tracks.

Too sappy??? Ok. The real lesson:

Always stay in the middle of the group, and you'll never be left without a friend on the subway.

I Get a Kick Out of You...

2008-10-14T20:55:00.006-05:00

Paige had a favorite things blog this week, and since I've been remiss in my blogging lately, I thought I'd steal her idea and share my favorite things... from this week...

-cooking my first non-crockpot roast successfully

-Chuck-watching with L

-fried pickles and sweet tea now available at two restaurants in town... heavenly...

-Pumpkin Gooey Butter Cake (I hate pumpkin in anything else, but this is beyond description. Try it!!!)

-church picnics (even if they don't include all-day singing)

-J's hilarious faces

-Mark's blog for Paige

-duct tape

-buying gifts... especially for my mom

-inservice moments that rival any episode of The Office... if I could write the full story of women's health day without getting fired, the blog post would be titled "My Humps"... I wish a camera had been there to catch all of my Jim Halpert faces...

-unexpected moments of overwhelming emotion brought on by literary brilliance- Life of Pi-"Love is hard to believe, ask any lover. Life is hard to believe, ask any scientist. God is hard to believe, ask any believer. What is your problem with hard to believe?" p. 297 - followed by a student-led discussion on the difficulty of faith

-walking through super-mega-chainstore and finding this...

-Target and Taco Cabana with friends on a Monday afternoon

-Monday Night Supper Club on a Tuesday night

-Meet Me in St. Louis

-red heels that make you ignore the incredible pain

-great moments in teenage philosophy...

Me: "Gentlemen, can one of you pull the screen down for me?"

Student 1: "I'll do it, Ms. Hyatt. I'm taller."

Student 2: "Being tall doesn't make you a man."

Thank You for the Music...

2008-10-09T21:08:00.005-05:00

This one has taken awhile, but here it is...

Mom, I love you because...

-You're the reason that we laugh constantly... and I do mean constantly. Inappropriate situations, locations, times, it doesn't matter. You're the reason that L and I can find the humor in anything. Two of my favorite memories ever- watching you, MawMaw, and the aunts jumping around in the tiny kitchen in PA because you saw a mouse. You were all laughing so hard that I really thought one of you would wet your pants. You were all laughing so hard and the kitchen was so tiny that none of you could really get out and away from the mouse. The second favorite memory is the time that you and I were laughing so hard in church that we were shushed by two of the youth. I think I may have been ten. Only a mother like you could be a part of the laughing-in-church problem. Great times!

-You have the patience of a saint. We're trying children, and we know it, but you love us anyway. You're constantly surrounded by trying people. Twenty years in a church office... enough said. But, you give everyone a chance and rarely show your frustration. The first year that I taught, one of my classes was having an awful day, and a student asked, "Ms. Hyatt, how can you always be patient with us when we're like this?" I replied, "I've seen my mom do it for years."

-You love to shop. Four am on the day after Thanksgiving is paradise.

-You love beautiful things. The house is always beautiful, you wear great clothes and jewelry, you love music and art... More importantly, you find the beauty in things... people and animals and places... You cry at Sea World. You find beauty in everything.

-You are a great cook. You're known for it. The amazing thing is that people who really know you know that you cook as another way to show how much you love the people around you. I know it's a cliche, but there really is love in every bite.

-You're a great teacher. You're patient when teaching your daughter to cook, and she bakes the turkey upside-down two times in a row. You've been working with youth for twenty-five years, and they love you. You teach in everything you do.

-You sing. I know we make fun of you for this one sometimes, but it is pretty incredible when you can quiet E with one verse of Jesus Loves Me.

-You keep the family together. You're the planner and the cook and the hostess and the comforter... whatever we need, you do it.

-You live a Christ-like life.

-You're up for an adventure. Wanna drive across the country to take the girls to DisneyWorld four months after knee replacement surgery? Ok. Wanna go on the Steel Magnolias tour in a rickety trolley car? Ok. Wanna go on a four-week journey across the western US? Sure.

-You make sure everyone feels welcome and loved. It has never mattered who or when. They are welcome in your home and your life. Our friends are your kids. Anyone who needs someone can find a place with you. Amazing.

For these and many other reasons, I love you, Mom!!! Happy Birthday!!!

The Night that the Lights Went Out in Georgia...

2008-10-01T22:03:00.002-05:00

Paige... I love you because...

-You tell great stories. You talk about Jillian's dramatic flair, but don't think for a second that she gets that from Mark. That is all you. You use your hands, roll your eyes, recount every detail... it's hilarious.

-You work really hard. It doesn't matter what you're doing... being a mom, a student, a wife, a scary ISS monitor at a middle school (hehehe)... you put everything into whatever you're doing. It's a rare thing these days for someone to work so hard at whatever they do.

-You're surprising. I go back to the middle school. Who knew that tiny, little Paige who scare the crap out of behaviorally-challenged middle schoolers in Colorado? Who knew that the same Paige who couldn't even drive to Dallas when we were roommates could move to Colorado and thrive on her own when that was what she needed to do? Very impressive...

-You're up for a challenge. Wanna run a half-marathon? Sure. Wanna read a 600-page book while trying to finish school, raise two kids, and work two jobs? Sure. Wanna finish school, raise two kids, work two jobs? Absolutely, you do.

-You seem to find the strangest situations and make laugh-out-loud moments out of them. Who else could have her car broken into twice in the same parking spot? Who else would have a man knock on her window at 2 o'clock in the morning? Who else could endure situations like these and laugh about them after the shock wore off?

-You are a master Friend's Trivia/ Taboo player.

-You are a great mom. There is no doubt that you love J and E and want them to be incredible people. They haven't missed out on a thing, even when M has been away and you've needed to do it on your own.

-You're committed. You and M have endured deployment after deployment. I'm thinking that many people wouldn't have lasted. But, you send the packages and run the errands and keep praying and do whatever it takes while he's gone. When he's home, you appreciate it that much more. I've heard very few people talk with such passion about wanting to be a great wife, and under the circumstances, it's that much more impressive.

-You're a devoted friend.

-You can do the best rendition of "The Night that the Lights Went Out in Georgia" that I've ever heard.

For these and many other reasons, I love you! Happy Birthday, Paige!!!

Movie Theme...

2008-09-28T22:28:00.004-05:00

As I walked out of Super-Huge Mega Chainstore tonight, I realized that I was in the middle of an Alfred Hitchcock movie. Inside Super-Huge Mega Chainstore, I was in the middle of Deliverance. But, outside, The Birds. They were on my car, they were under my car, they chased me out of the cart return (which, by the way, left me feeling like I was in the middle of City of God because of the piles of trash left to rot... maybe it was an offering to the birds???). I hate Super-Huge Mega Chainstore, but I most especially hate it because of its horror movie quality.

When I returned home, I clicked on my television to see Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks in You've Got Mail. I began to wonder, why can't my life be more Nora Ephron and less Alfred Hitchcock? Is it a problem of geography? Can endlessly cute hair, impossibly cute love stories, and perpetually cute locales only be found on the Upper West Side of Manhattan? Is small, Texas town only good for fearsome vertebrates and toothless... well, vertebrates? I plan to test my theory in a few weeks when I will be in Manhattan. "What up 2-1-2?" (So, I had to throw a little Pam Beesly in there even if The Office is a TV show and not a movie.) If the birds stay away and my hair is endlessly cute, I'll begin planning my move/ movie.

In the mean time, I'll get up tomorrow, watch my head as I walk quickly to my car, and go to my job which, I believe, is secretly being directed by John Hughes or Judd Apatow... or on some days John Carpenter. "Honest to blog", I do...

Twentysomething...

2008-09-21T21:51:00.002-05:00

Too tired and drowsy from cold medicine tonight to write anything profound. I just started something and knew I was rambling, so I deleted it. I would just like to say that 29 has been great so far. Life is taking me by surprise these days (in a good way), and I'm very thankful today for the kind of parents who have always opened up their home and kitchen to my friends, for the kind of friends who make all of my days exciting (especially my birthday), for the kind of students who threw me a birthday party 10 days early because they knew I would figure it out otherwise... a great day.

A sidenote that has nothing to do with my birthday... I'm also grateful for the kind of pastor who can be so transparent from the pulpit that you can see right through him... in a good way. It's been a long time.

The Rebel Jesus

2008-09-14T21:24:00.002-05:00

"...And perhaps we give a little to the poor
If the generosity should seize us
But if any one of us should interfere
In the business of why there are poor
They get the same as the rebel Jesus..."

- Jackson Browne

I know that I've made light of the current election in my recent posts. I think it's a defense mechanism. I don't really want to think about the choice to be made. Those of you who know me know that over the last few years I've struggled with the role of a Christian in politics. It really is a struggle for me. In theory, I think that Christians have a much greater calling than politics. Secretly, though, I've debated the idea of getting into politics in one form or another. Part of this desire stems from the beautiful way that my father always wove the big conversations about issues and current events into the fabric of our home life. The other part of the desire comes from my freakish addiction to The West Wing. Seriously... I still TiVo every episode that comes on Bravo. So far, the only upside to the political circus that is currently underway is the fact that Bravo is showing West Wing marathons once a week. I love it. I know it sounds silly, but I love the idealism and the well-scripted struggles with national and international issues that just happen to coincide with the personal issues of the Bartlett staffers. (Josiah Bartlett is the fake president played by Martin Sheen for those of you who are not familiar with my addiction.) I wish that I had half of the respect for our real elected officials that I do for the fake ones... but I digress...

I mention my struggle only to say that I've come to the personal decision that I can't vote this year. One of my Facebook friends has his status set to say, "If you vote for the lesser of two evils, you are still voting for evil." That is basically my conclusion at this point. My father is disappointed. Some of my friends disapprove for one reason or another, although I know of at least one friend who prefer I not vote because of the evil I would probably choose. I just wonder what Jesus really thinks about our country at this point.

As I sat with my family and watched the news of Hurricane Ike today, we had mixed reactions. We talked about the feeling of entitlement, a plague which seems to have infected our whole society. We talked about socialism and the New Deal and Kennedy and our Republican governor and president who seem to have forgotten that they're against big government. We talked about personal responsibility or the lack of it. We talked about race and economic status and stupidity. We talked about moving to Peru.

In the midst of all of that talk, I began to wonder what Jesus was thinking about us in that moment. I was thinking that he was probably either laughing or crying at our commentary. I was thinking that I'm quick to love poor people in other countries and quick to criticize them in my own. I was thinking that the government has to step in because the Church (including me) isn't doing what it is supposed to do. I was thinking that we choose our political leaders based on whether they look and sound and live like us. I was thinking that we probably wouldn't vote for Jesus. I was thinking that there are a lot of people on the coast and across our country and around the world who could care less right now whether the war hero and the hockey mom or the liberal elitist and lifetime politician win in November. I was thinking that we spend a lot of time talking about the wrong things and asking the wrong questions.

What does all of this mean? I don't know.

What am I going to do about it? I'm not sure.

Tonight, I'm going to pray for wisdom and mercy... for myself and for the thousands of people without electricity and food and water (and for the millions more around the world for whom that is a way of life). I'm going to pray for Obama and McCain and Palin and Biden. I'm going to pray for responsibility and compassion and for the Church to be the Church and for God to deal with the two evils in whatever way He sees fit. I'm going to pray that we start asking the right questions and stop loving only the "right" people.

Sweet Child(ren) O' Mine

2008-08-31T00:28:00.004-05:00

Last week at inservice, our motivational speaker of the year, led us in an activity that we could use in our classrooms. The activity involved posting pictures at different locations around the room and asking the kids to go to the picture that they most associated with a certain topic. So, we practiced the activity. Posted around the room were pictures of a man gardening, a person looking through a microscope, a man fishing, a used car salesman, and a little boy playing with puppies. The speaker instructed us to move to the picture that best related to our classroom management style.

Now, let me say that it was the end of the day, and the last thing on my mind was the way that my choice would be perceived. So, what did I do? I went to the puppies.

I stood there for a minute... I looked up... Twenty-five elementary teachers and I were standing with the puppies. I started to see my mistake.

Finally, my English-teaching partner came and stood beside me with the puppies and the entire elementary staff. (I don't think she's a puppy teacher. She just felt sorry for me.) We went on to explain why we chose our pictures. I had great reasons. Puppies require time and boundaries. Good behaviors must be modeled for them. Puppies need to be loved and disciplined. I think it is an apt metaphor... more apt than used cars and microscopes.

I walked into our campus meetings the next day. The "experienced" teachers were standing in a group, and as I sat down I heard, "So, we saw you went to the puppies yesterday..." I don't think it was a complement.

Funny things that have happened with my puppies this week:

-Past first days of school conversation:

"Ms. Hyatt, how old are you?"

"Old enough."

"Come on... tell us."

"Figure it out."

"You're twenty... twenty-three... twenty-five. You can't be older than twenty-five."

This year's first day of school conversation:

"Ms. Hyatt, how old are you?"

"Old enough."

"Come on... tell us."

"Figure it out."

Kid across the room says, "She's gotta be at least forty."

Apparently, I've aged 15 years in one. Botox, here I come.

- "Ms. Hyatt, we were talking about stereotypes in speech class today. She asked us to list the characteristics of a certain stereotype and then name someone who breaks the stereotype."

"Oh, really. That sounds interesting."

"Yeah. We listed the characteristics of teachers- old, mean, frizzy-haired, no fun... We said that you broke the stereotype."

"Awww... thanks. So, I'm young and nice and don't have frizzy hair?"

"Yeah. You're young and nice."

I'm making my appointment with Missy ASAP.

- In DI class, we did an instant challenge to celebrate M's birthday. My mom, or the DI grandmother as the kids call her, made 3-dozen cupcakes, and the kids were to use candy, icing, and toothpicks to create cupcake sculptures. We had crowns and Halloweentowns (from The Nightmare Before Christmas) and candy monsters. I asked L what his sculpture was. He created an Olympic-themed cupcake complete with a pole vault and Michael Phelps' head with fruit slice ears.

- And... the best line of the week-

"Ms. Hyatt, are you dating anyone? I want to set you up with my cheer coach. (Long pause.) He's not gay or anything."

I love my puppies.

Here You Come Again...

2008-08-21T20:52:00.004-05:00

So, I'm feeling an almost-post-Olympic depression (which has not been helped by the ungodly hour at which I've had to wake up this week for the start of school or the bizarrely gloomy, cold weather we've been having in Texas in August). Like much of the US and the world, I've found myself almost exclusively discussing Coughlin and Liukin and Bolt and May-Treanor, as if they are people I really know. I was inspired yesterday when our motivational speaker for the year pointed out that we could have the next awkward, big-eared, hyperactive, future Olympic gold-medal-winning swimmer walking through our doors on Monday. (Unfortunately, that kid doesn't stand a chance in LO unless he can train in Tawakoni.) I've been so uplifted by the camaraderie and the part-of-something-bigger-than-yourself-ness of the summer games that I've even caught myself humming "Proud to Be an American". (Only Denyse, my weepy friend, can truly understand the oddity of that particular occurrence.)
But, as the Olympics are coming to a close, I find myself sad for one reason... the end of the Olympics means the beginning of the Conventions. Basically, I'm about to go from screaming at my television in excitement to screaming at my television in disillusionment. I wrote in a previous post that I'm voting for Dolly Parton, and I'm not kidding. I'll probably distract myself from the conventions by posting Ms. Parton's platform and bullet points of her stump speeches. But, now, in an effort to persuade some of you to consider the Parton possibilities, I've come up with a top-five list of possible running mates for Ms. Parton. When we hold our Get-Real Party convention in Pigeon Forge later this year, Ms. Parton can announce her choice. (Because, unlike a certain candidate for "change", Ms. Parton is old-school and doesn't feel the need to impress you with her technological savvy by announcing her VP through a text message. She does, however, know how to text message because she is old-school, not old.)
So, without further ado- Ms. Parton's Short-List for Running Mates:
5. Emmylou Harris- Someone that Ms. Parton has already collaborated with is an obvious choice, right? So, I thought through the list... Porter Waggoner is dead... Kenny Rogers' face no longer moves, and Nancy Pelosi already holds the title of most-Botoxed politician, so what could he do, really???... Linda Ronstadt is a possibility, but she's in with Michael Moore and would cost us the conservative vote, so I'm thinking that wise, calm Emmylou is a great option.
4. Sally Field- Another great collaboration... Every woman in America will turn out to vote for Truvy and M'Lynn, together again. And, Sally can get the baby boomers (Gidget), the unions (Norma Rae), and the redn... oh, no wait, I mean Southern states (Smokey and the Bandit). Just think... when they win, Sally can use that great "You really like me..." speech again.
3. Bono- Ok, ok, ok... I can hear some of you groaning as you read this. But, I'm not suggesting Bono for the reasons that you think. Forget all of that Africa do-gooding and tireless working to forgive third-world debt. Instead, think of all of the state dinners and cabinet meetings where impromptu Dolly Parton-U2 jam sessions will break out. Think Jack White and Loretta Lynn, but one-thousand times better. Can't you just see Vladimir Putin tapping his feet to the sound of a Jolene/ I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For Medley? Imagine how his heart will be changed when they transition into I Will Always Love You and Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own... Who needs Condoleezza Rice? World peace is only a duet away. (Oh, and for those of you who think that there is a slight possibility that Bono is the Antichrist... Don't worry! We've already had several vice presidents who are on the short list for that position, too, and we've survived them all... so far...)
2. Dwight Schrute- Sure, he's fictional. But, he's always wanted to be someone's number two, and he would work tirelessly to support Ms. Parton. Additionally, he's they only one on the list with a background in East Asian culture (Karate), agriculture (beet farming), and law enforcement (volunteer Lackawanna County sheriff's deputy).

Finally...

1. Jason Lezak- Not the obvious choice? Well, he's a team player, he picks up the slack, he defeats the French (something that all Americans can support)... all-in-all, he's the perfect choice for Ms. Parton's second-in-command. And, since the tirelessly overachieving US Swim Team is so united, the others will be more than willing to serve in various positions in the Parton Administration. Phelps as Secretary of State (because the whole world loves him); Torres as Ambassador to Sweden (since she's already been so gracious to their swimmer with the ripped suit); Lochte as costume designer (Ok... so, I'm overreaching, but he does have great hair and wore a grill on the medal stand, and Ms. Parton does love the bling...)

So, what do you think America? Voting for Dolly? Other possibilities for VP? We, the Get-Real Party, are not so full of ourselves that we're not open to suggestion. Hey... maybe we're really all about "change"...

Come Together...

2008-08-17T01:17:00.002-05:00

This is what happens when two of my favorite things join forces... greatness.

People, the Way We Were... (Any Barbra Streisand fans out there???)

2008-08-16T23:46:00.007-05:00

So...

Too much has happened in the last two weeks to blog about it all. Still, it's been a great two weeks, so I'll share some highlights.

-I finally made it to the beach for some great time with Erin and Addie. Erin made me smile when we were talking about my inability to keep in touch with people (mainly because I hate talking on the phone), and she said, "But isn't it great that when we're together, it seems like we are never apart." I love that. I realized on the way home that it was ten-years-ago this week that I left for college.

-When I arrived home on Sunday, I started working on a video and found two CDs in my old laptop case. One was titled "Crazy Songs" and the other "JP's Greatest Hit Volume 2". I'm not sure how they ended up in my possession, but they reminded me of the lesson-filled summer of five-years-ago when I was working at the church. Insane as it is, I still remember Camp Crazy fondly, and I was definitely laughing at the mix of songs apparently put together by our former "unpaid intern", JP, who has now gone on to political greatness. I especially laughed when I was skimming through JP's CD and heard the super-special 9/11 version of "Proud to Be an American". Definitely should have been a sign of things to come.

-That same day, I received a text message from one of my DI kids saying that he had met JM (my old youth-ministry partner) at church and that he loved his "gangsta voice". That definitely made my day, and my student couldn't believe that JM's gangsta voice has been around since he began speaking.

-That night, I saw four of my students at Starbucks, three of whom are from my first group of freshmen that just graduated in May. Two of them sat down with me for a few minutes and talked about all of the books that they've been reading this summer (including To Kill a Mockingbird). It made me happy to think that my class might have had an impact and might save them from becoming part of the 58% of Americans who haven't read a book since high school (a statistic that should scare the bejeezus out of all of us). But, more than that, I was excited that they're just nice people. My kids have become people that I like, and isn't that the point???

All of these events led me into a week of thanksgiving. These four happy coincedences combined to remind me of the phenomenal grace that I've been shown over the last ten years. Forgiving, funny friends, beautiful students, a million incredible moments... grace. I have no idea what the next ten years hold, but if they're anything like the last ten... well, let's just say that the control-freak in me is learning to trust in Someone who can see much more fabulous things for me than I can see for myself.

I Love You Because...

2008-08-16T23:24:00.003-05:00

Grandpa,

I love you because...

-You (and the hobbies that you passed down) are the only reason that I know anything about fishing and hunting. The limited knowledge that I soaked up from you and Daddy has garnered me some respect in my current position.

-You're the reason that I like milk and sugar with a little coffee. The version you made for me as a toddler was much cheaper than the version I currently enjoy at Starbucks.

-You're the reason that I can hang my own curtains. I can at least handle a hammer and screwdriver because of the countless hours Lee and I spent in your driveway with those tools, screws, nails, and a 2x4.

-You are a man of few words, but the ones that you speak are always funny or wise. I hope that someone can say that about me someday.

-You taught me about commitment long before I could appreciate the lesson. I remember those days when Grandma was so sick, and I remember you being right there. It wasn't until years later that I realized that she had been that sick for more than a decade, and you had always been right there.

-You raised two daughters who turned out to be two of the greatest, funniest aunts a girl could have. I'm glad they grew up in a house that was full of humor and sarcasm.

-You raised my dad. It goes without saying that he's my hero, and since you raised him to be that way, you're my hero, too.

-You have the big conversations with Daddy. He talks, sometimes, about the things that the two of you talk about when you're in the garage or the garden or on the lake. It's the reason that he's always been willing to have the big conversations with me and Lee. Thank you.

-I remember being so excited when we would get home from St. Paul's and your truck would be in the driveway. I had that same excited feeling when I saw your truck in mom and dad's driveway yesterday.

For these, and many other reasons, I love you, Grandpa! Happy 87th Birthday!!!

Beautiful Day...

2008-08-06T11:00:00.003-05:00

Jilly Bean,

I love you because...

-You were special from the beginning. Your dad flew in all the way from Iraq to be there. The hospital had never seen anything like the crowd that was there to see your debut. The family waiting room was packed with what felt like 50 people, and those same people all crowded in to your mom's room to see you about 20 minutes after you were born. We couldn't wait!!! Over the next few days, many more people came to see you, and you made quite an impression. You made several grown men cry with your beauty. Spectacular way to begin.

-You were a great baby. It was like you knew that you needed to look out for your mom, and you did. You slept when you were supposed to. You ate when you were supposed to. Very impressive!

-You were very patient with your mom's friends. We were stupid enough to take a 1-month-old baby to the zoo over Labor Day weekend in Texas, but you indulged us even when we woke you up to take your picture with the giraffes.

-You have the best laugh. Even when you were tiny, your laugh could fill up a room.

-You're a girl with a sense of fashion. Everything that you've worn- from the lobster Halloween costume to the birthday tutu- has been fabulous.

- You love to read (or be read to). I love that you can sit and read for hours. We always thought that you were a genius, but now we know for sure. You have great taste, too! It doesn't get any better than Olivia and The Belly-Button Book.

-You are a great big sister! You love Emma, and you show it.

-You like to cook, and I think you have a talent for it. Every one of the pigs-in-a-blanket that we made on New Year's Eve was eaten in about 10 minutes.

-You have really great parents, and you let them be themselves. They get to play and laugh as much as you do. Some kids are so high maintenance that their parents become totally different people. But, you're not one of those kids. You've definitely made your parents better versions of themselves. Well done.

-You make me wonder what is ahead. I can't wait to see all of the amazing things that you are going to do in the future, since you've already done all of this at the ripe, old age of three. I'm praying for your sure-to-be-fantastic future everyday.

For these and many other reasons, I love you, Jillian Grace! Happy 3rd Birthday!!!

Southbound 35 (and 36 and 60)...

2008-08-05T23:42:00.014-05:00

So, Edouard thought that he could keep us from our girls' week at the beach, but he was all talk and no action. I finally made it to Bay City around 8 o'clock, and Erin will be here tomorrow. I took a different route to get here, but you know what they say about the road less traveled. It did make all the difference.

In the giant traffic jam on I-35 between Dallas and Hillsboro, I sat for an hour and a half next to a "stupid, shiny Volvo". Hannah Kate thinks that it might have belonged to Edward Cullen.

Because I took 35 instead of 45, I was able to eat lunch at Rosa's Cafe in Waco. Additionally, it was Taco Tuesday. Edouard may have been looking out for me after all. I was also encouraged by the 400 billboards that I saw like this one between Dallas and Temple. Apparently the Texas teachers that travel I-35 are appreciated. I'm requesting one of these for Highway 69.

At great risk to myself and the drivers around me, I tried to get a picture of the wussy Edouard as I drove closer to the coast. Let's just say that driving by the screen on the camera is not a good idea. I do have a slightly blurry pic of the hurricane, himself, though. (Or maybe just a blurry pic of the butt of a truck???)

I did finally make it to Bay City, and we head to the beach tomorrow. Take that, Edouard!

Happy Birthday(???)

2008-08-04T17:22:00.003-05:00

Adalyne,

I love you because...

-You're our glue. You're the one that has kept us all together since college. I know that it's annoying sometimes, but it's comforting to know that someone is keeping tabs. You have a gift for it.

-You're your family's glue. Don't think that no one notices the effort you've put into your family in the last 10 years. It shows maturity beyond your years.

-You like to sing in the morning. Hard to believe, but there was a time that I didn't appreciate this. (That time mainly occurred when you would sing on our way to class at 8 o'clock in the morning when we had been stupid enough to stay up until 3 o'clock doing nothing. Good times.) Now, though, I realize that we needed someone to remind us that we should be grateful for each new day.

-You're brave. You've gone with the flow since college. You've lived in foreign countries and lived back in your hometown. You've walked through the doors that were opened to you and didn't fret when you weren't exactly sure what was on the other side.

-You're a world traveler. You've lived in Russia and Italy. You've studied in Spain and Greece. You've climbed Mt. Sinai, for goodness' sake. I want to have your passport when I grow up.

-You made me a world traveler. You were the first person to convince me to go overseas. You were the first person to have to endure me on an overseas flight. You were my roommate when our shower curtain mysteriously disappeared on our second day in Athens, and it never came back. (While that may not seem like a big moment, it was the first of many mysterious experiences in foreign countries, so I'll always treasure our water-covered bathroom in the Divani Palace Hotel). I caught the travel bug on that trip. Thank you!!!

-You're the reason that we'll remember these last 10 years of our lives. You take pictures of everything. You save every invitation, candy wrapper, receipt, postcard... I could go on. You know that it's important to treasure the large and small moments in life, and I am constantly running across pictures that you took on a day when I need it, and they make me smile.

-You love kids. You knew you were supposed to be a teacher long before I did. I love to hear you talk about your kids and see the way that you love and appreciate them. It is definitely your calling.

-You're a great hostess. The first big memory I have of our freshman year in college is our "Titanic and S'mores" Party in your and Erin's room. That was just the first of many parties, beach trips, and road trips that you have hosted. You haven't just captured the memories, you've made the memories.

-You're just a good friend. You love us. You take care of us. You reprimand us (when we desperately need it). You continue to call us even when we don't ever pick up the phone.

For all of these reasons and many more, I love you, Addie!!! Happy Birthday!!!

Birthday...

2008-08-02T16:48:00.003-05:00

Every Monday morning during the school year, we would meet in the old, yellow kitchen at the church. It was called Core Group. I rarely made it on time because then, as now, I was not good at arriving anywhere on time, especially at 7:00 am. I usually made the effort, though, because it was special. It was a time where 20 or 30 of us would crowd in for "kitchen time" and soak up the wisdom of Becky Black. Most of the time was spent laughing and eating orange cinammon rolls. But, one of the most memorable parts of Core Group was an exercise called "I Love You Because...". On birthdays, the group would crowd around that person, and beginning with Becky, we would recount the reasons that the birthday boy or girl was loved and appreciated. It was simple, but it meant a lot. I still think about it more than ten years later. In a group that had a tendency to be snarky and sarcastic (in the love of Christ, of course), it was a time when we let down our guard and sincerely encouraged one another. For a perpetually unsure teenage girl, it was a blessing.
So... in honor of Core Group and Becky and all things nostalgic, I am starting a regular blog section for you birthday boys and girls out there called "I Love You Because...". This week has three big birthdays, so it should be interesting, but here goes...

Hannah Kate, I love you because...
-We got off to a rocky start when, as a one-year-old, you cried for five hours straight the first time I babysat you and only paused when I would rewind and replay "Elmo Saves Christmas". I think we watched it six times that first night. This may not seem like a good reason, but I like a person whose affections have to be earned. It's been twelve years, and I think you're starting to like me.
-You're a good traveling partner. You can laugh in those tense traveling situations that make most people cringe. You laughed when our plane almost crashed two years ago on the way to Peru, and you were locked in the bathroom. The entire flight crew was laying in the aisle waiting for things to calm down, and you fell out of the bathroom laughing. One of the best moments ever.
-You can tell an entire story using only dialogue, facial expressions, and hand gestures. In fact, you have a gift for recounting people's exact words and body language. It's hilarious.
-You don't get grouchy when you get tired. Instead, you flail. A much more entertaining alternative.
-You like to read. I like that we can have life-changing conversations about fictional characters. Not everyone has that kind of imagination.
-You're a good friend. This is a rare quality in a thirteen-year-old girl. This is a rare quality in most people. You really care about your friends. You value them for their good qualities and love them in spite of the bad. Even when they don't act like such great friends.

-You kill time in creative ways. Who else could waste time learning baby sign language, writing books about the never-ending Florida fence, or quoting random lines from "The Princess Bride" and "Nacho Libre"?
-You randomly break out in song. You started singing "I Wanna See Jesus Lifted High" at the vampire wedding last night. Brilliant. And, you appreciate the classics like "Taylor, the Latte Boy."
-You love Jesus, and you live your life like you mean it. You've already figured out the joy of service. Some people never get it.

-You're yourself. You don't try to be someone you're not.
-You make me laugh... constantly. You're funny even without meaning to be. Sometimes, you even make me guffaw!!!
For these and many other reasons, I love you. Happy 13th Birthday, Hannah Kate!!!

Somebody Else's Song...

2008-07-31T23:56:00.003-05:00

Just a sidenote...
I'm definitely underestimating the three people who read my blog, I know, but I just thought that it might be time for an explanation.
Each of the blogs is a song title that matches to a song in my Playlist on the right. I only mention this because it is deeply frightening to me that you might be reading my blog about Mola's death and listening to "Let's Hear it for the Boy" from the Footloose Soundtrack. The songs are set on random, but you can click on the matching song and have a soundtrack for your reading. This may sound silly to you, but life really should be a musical... even blog life.

***Unfortunately, I just defeated the whole purpose by choosing this blog title because the song is not available on Playlist. It's a Lifehouse song... and you get the point.

The Space Between or (as I like to call it) Purple Haze...

2008-07-31T21:42:00.003-05:00

In my first semester at seminary, I took a class called Basic Christian Ethics. On our first day of class, the professor began a "discussion" on the implications of living with a Calvinist vs. Arminian worldview. Now, at this time I was completely unfamiliar with seminary etiquette or the expectations in this particular class with this particular professor. I was new and young and had been blessed beyond measure in my previous educational setting, especially in my religion classes. In this new environment, I was green, and that was soon to change.

When the subject was breached, ears immediately perked up, and I could sense, even in my naive state, that I needed to pay attention. Let me stop here and say that my religious education was not so lacking that I had never heard discussions on this topic. They had simply been more informal. They were presented by people who didn't feel the need to impress everyone with their high-falootin' words and dogmatic assurance. Basically, my previous experiences with the topics of predestination and free will had been with people willing to admit that they didn't know it all.

So, the professor pontificated for half an hour on Calvin and his five points, and as he was about to pause, he ended with, "So, how do we reconcile ministry and the idea of the elect?"

I was still naive enough to believe at this point that he wanted a real response. So, as Scout would say, "before I knew any better", I spoke up and said, "So, you're saying that there's no free will. Who believes that?" Instantly, I felt my mistake. The fifty men in the room with me gasped. I felt the eyes of the professor burn through me as he said, "Centuries of faith have been built upon that idea by better people than you or I." I was pretty sure that he would have left off the "or I" part of his statement if he could have. (Ok... so, it may not have been that bad, and I may have invented some drama in my own mind, but I never spoke in that class again.)

That was my first experience with the Calvinists. I decided that day that I didn't want anything to do with people who thought that they were "elect". Really, I didn't want anything to do with people that felt that they deserved to be elect.

Since that day, I've encountered many Calvinists who have earned my love and respect. I've read books and heard sermons preached by passionate men and women of God who, based on the scripture, believe in all five letters of the TULIP. (I've recently been disturbed to learn that there are now two extra points. I don't know what they are, and I'm trying to avoid finding out.) Because of these loving and wise people, I've made my peace with Calvin and have even found some very common ground. I have also continued to be inspired by people who fall on the Arminian side of the argument.

Over the last few years, my circle of friends has been consumed by this particular topic of conversation. Some are vehemently opposed to one side or another. Some simply like to bring it up to see the reactions of the vehement. Some like to avoid it because it brings up fears of friends and family who may or may not be elect. It is discussed in the context of missions, church life, family life, evangelism, sin... I could go on. Most of us agree on the sovereignty of God. Most of us agree on the love of God. Few agree on the way that those things work themselves out. Everyone goes to scripture. No one agrees on interpretation.

So... my decision is this. I'm tired of feeling like I have to pretend to understand everything and choose a side. I hear Dr. Bob's voice in my head over and over again repeating, "The more I know, the more I know I don't know." So, I refuse to choose. I'm going to live in the middle.

I know that my die-hard Calvinist friends (and family members) and my die-hard free will lovers will find this difficult to accept, but I just think that I'm okay with it. Would you like to know how I've found this peace in the middle? I knew you would say, "Yes." Well, I've decided to stop thinking about it as a black and white issue. Black and white implies that one side is right and the other wrong; one side is evil and the other good. Instead, I've decided to think of it as a blue and red issue. I like both blue and red. Currently, my living room is a lovely shade of robin's-egg blue with happy accents of red, and they live very well together. Also, as an added bonus, when you look at blue and red on a color wheel, what do you find in the middle? Purple. Another great color with which I am perfectly happy. So, I choose, for now, at least, to live in the purple and trust that someday the colors will be irrelevant.

Home Life...

2008-07-26T01:12:00.006-05:00

So, a lot has happened since Peru, and, in an effort to commemorate the middle month of the summer, I'll recap a few of those things...

Important events (in no particular order)-

1. Two DI shindigs- Studio Movie Grill and Shakespeare in the Park (All's Well that Ends Well)- I love our kids!!! We have grown from one team to three- 21 kids are now in the program- We're more popular than LOHS basketball!!! Beyond the fact that DI is a great educational program, it has become a ministry. I knew that there was a reason I became a teacher and not a youth minister. This is part of it. Pray for my kids.

2. Mola's funeral- I hope that it doesn't seem sacreligious to group that in with other things. It was incredible and hilarious and miraculous closure. I now want to be Mola when I grow up.

3. Paige, M, and the girls in town- They were here for about two weeks, and we were able to celebrate J's 3rd birthday and the 4th of July together (with other great friends and family). I'll write more about them later.

4. Home improvement... is of the devil. (The event... not the TV show, although it's probably questionable, also.) I now love my house, but I hate all things paint, wallpaper, Lowe's and Home Depot. I'm discovering that I'm an idea person, and I should hire people to do the heavy lifting. In a perfect world...

5. Church- This is an odd one. I have just found it refreshing, lately. It had been a struggle. It is not as great a struggle, now.

6. Numerous other lunches, dinners, conversations, and moments that have made this one of the best summers in a long time.

Upcoming exciting events-

1. Dinner at Sambuca listening to A Hard Day's Night, the Beatles cover band, in celebration of Denyse's birthday

2. The midnight release of Breaking Dawn at Barnes and Noble (complete with people dressed for a vampire wedding) in celebration of HK's birthday

3. A week at Matagorda in honor of Addie's birthday

4. A new school year

Other things...

Movies I've loved-

The Dark Knight (Heath Ledger is/was a sad genius.)

Wall-E (Who knew that love between robots could be so endearing?)

Hancock (Which may be the subject of a later blog.)

The Jane Austen Book Club (This was a rental. The English teacher in me appreciates the fact that our lives reflect the books that we read and vice versa. Nothing new under the sun, right?)

Movies that have been okay-

Kit Kittredge: An American Girl

Kung Fu Panda

Movies that have been disappointing-

Mamma Mia (I wanted to love it... but I saw it twice, and I couldn't stop laughing/ crying when Pierce Brosnan was singing. Abba is still the coolest, though.)

Get Smart (Why Steve Carrell ever tries to play a character other than Michael Scott, I'll never know.)

Things that I would like to blog about based on things that have happened this summer (but may or may not have the time or inspiration for)-

1. Calvinism- All the Cool Kids Are Doing It?!?

2. Top Chef Finale- Women Can Cook... Really?

3. Why My DI Kids Could Win Project Runway Anyday

4. Obama vs. McCain... Seriously... That's The Best of Us, America? I'm Voting for Dolly Parton!

5. Why Education in America is Failing and What We Can Do to Fix It... (I really don't have the answer, but it is something that I've been thinking about a lot.)

Peru Day One Update... Ben Again???

2008-07-19T10:13:00.000-05:00

Denyse sent this to me today, and I'm not sure what to think. I hope it's not my friend, Ben.
FBI: Soccer team members help subdue man on flight - World Soccer - Yahoo! Sports http://sports.yahoo.com/sow/news?slug=capress-soc_mls_flight_diverted&prov=capress&type=lgns

Peru Epilogue: To Know Him is to Love Him...

2008-07-19T01:32:00.000-05:00

So, in a marathon blogging session, I've finished the story of my thirteen days in Peru. I realize, now, that it is in no way complete. All seventeen of us would tell you different stories. I've already realized that I missed something huge. I was on this trip with one of my students. A student that I've known for her whole life, but still a student. I can't tell you how many times I looked at her and her mom and was so thankful that they were there. It was unlike anything that I could ever talk about in my classroom.

There's just no way to talk about the trip in a way that would totally make sense to someone who wasn't there. It was the most heartwrenching out-of-country experience that I've ever had. Still, this is the trip that has made me most want to go back. On the day that Mrs. Mola died, when we were on our way home, my brother sent me a text message with a quote from John Piper about Ruth. This is a section of the larger article, and it explains better than I can...

"One of the great diseases of our day is triviality. The things with which most people spend most of their time are utterly trivial. And what makes this a disease is that we who were created in the image of God were meant to live for magnificent causes. None of us is really content with the trivial pursuits of the world. Our souls will not be satisfied with trifles. Why is there a whole section of the newspaper devoted to sport, and almost nothing devoted to the greatest story in the universe -- the growth and spread of the church of Jesus Christ? It is madness, sheer madness, that insignificant games should occupy such a central role in our culture. It is simply one of many signs that we are enslaved to trivialities. We live in the Swiss village shop staring at the wooden figurines, and rarely lifting our eyes to the forests and the everlasting snows. We live in a perpetual and hopeless struggle to satisfy our longings on trifles. So our souls shrivel. Our lives are trivial. And our capacity for great worship dies... God wants us to know that when we follow him our lives always mean more than we think they do."

Peru Day Thirteen: Fix You...

2008-07-19T01:26:00.000-05:00

A Haiku Upon Concluding a Stressful but Wonderful Trip Where I Didn't Get Sick Only to Get Home and Have to Be Taken By Ambulance To the Hospital...

Airtran, you wronged me.

One flight was all I had left.

Bumps made me throw up.

Peru Day Twelve: My Beloved...

2008-07-19T01:06:00.000-05:00

On the first night in Alto Trujillo, Mrs. Mola got up to give her testimony. I remember laughing for many reasons. First of all, she was suspicious of the translators and didn't really believe that they were saying what she had said. She made this very clear. Secondly, she just had a way of saying things that was hilarious. She was so vibrant and full of something...

As she began to tell her story, she talked about growing up in a home of unbelievers. I think she called them heathens. Julie had a difficult time translating that one. She talked about marrying "the best man", and she smiled like a teenager. She talked about her love for her new groom. She went on to talk about her mother-in-law who was the reason that she had become a Christian. Then, she talked about how much she loved "her Jesus", and she had that same smile.

On that last morning when we woke up at 4:00 to catch our 7:30 plane, we heard people yelling her name downstairs. Most of you have heard the story at this point.

Like a lot of the things that happened on the trip, I didn't really process Mrs. Mola's death until I was back home. About a week after our return, I was reading the blog of my friend, Addie. She had a song playing that I had never heard before, and I instantly thought of Mola.

You're My Beloved
You're My Bride
To sing over you is My delight
Come away with Me, My love

You're Beautiful to Me
So beautiful to Me

Under My mercy
Come and wait
Till we are standing face to face
I see no stain on you, My child

You're Beautiful to Me
So Beautiful to Me

I sing over you My song of peace
Cast all your care down at My feet
Come and find your rest in Me

I'll breathe My life inside of you
I'll bear you up on eagle's wings
And hide you in the shadow of My strength

I'll take you to My quiet waters
I'll restore your soul
Come rest in Me and be made whole

You're My beloved
You're My Bride
To sing over you is my delight
Come away with me my love

-Kari Jobe

I thought of the way that Mola had smiled that first night. I thought of the way that she must have smiled when she saw "her Groom, her Jesus".

Peru Day Eleven: When He Returns...

2008-07-19T00:36:00.000-05:00

(This post is in honor of Bill, who blasphemed against Bob Dylan as we sat eating after our day at Machu Picchu.)

The iron hand it ain't no match for the iron rod. The strongest wall will crumble and fall to a mighty God. For all those who have eyes and all those who have ears, it is only He who can reduce me to tears.

-Bob Dylan

Let me preface this by saying that I was tired by the time we reached day eleven and were headed to Machu Picchu, so I may not have been in the right frame of mind to truly appreciate one of the Wonders of the World. We left the hotel in Cusco at 6:30 am. Most of the group was well and with us at this point. One of the funniest moments of the day came early. K and J were sitting in front of me on the bus, and K was listening to her iPod. S had decided to have our morning devotion on the bus, so R gave the devotion, and S asked J to pray. (Okay, let me pause here to say that I'm starting to feel like a Sesame Street character with all of the alphabetting that I'm doing, but you know... I have to protect the identities of the innocent.) Anyway... J bowed his head to pray, and as he finished, K looked up, took out her ear buds, and said, "What were you doing?" She was angry with J because she missed the whole devotion and didn't know it. You probably had to be there, but it was hilarious.

So, we rode on the bus for an hour-and-a-half. I have to say that I was beginning to enjoy bus time, especially early morning or late night bus time. It was quiet time. It was time to reflect on the hundreds of once-in-a-lifetime experiences that had occurred in the last eleven days. Jesus talks about rest; it felt like rest. It was a good thing that I enjoyed that time because once we left the bus, we rode a train for another hour-and-a-half. Then, we rode another bus for 20 minutes. Finally, we arrived at Machu Picchu. I have to admit that I was really excited. I remembered that feeling when I was in Greece and went over a hill, only to be surprised by the view of the Acropolis at night. It's surreal to have seen something and read about something all of your life and then see it in person. This time, though, the path to seeing the thing was more difficult than just driving over a hill. This time, Edith said, there would be 3000 steps. So, we walked through the gate and started climbing. We arrived at the top. We thought we were going to die. I decided to text my friends and family to tell them of this momentous occasion, and apparently, my texting is as clumsy as my walking. In the text, I managed to communicate to P that I had to have surgery because of a collapsed lung and to J that only three of us, Denyse, H, and I had made it to the top. Obviously, none of that was accurate. I don't know what I did, but I blame it on the lack of oxygen.

So, we regained our composure, we took pictures, we walked down, saw some other things, and were ready to leave within an hour. It wasn't that it was disappointing. It was what I thought it would be. It was an impressive monument to man's creativity and ingenuity. It just wasn't miraculous like everything else that we had seen in those two weeks. It was notable, but it wasn't supernatural. It was inventive, but it wasn't inspiring. It was man when we had seen God.

Peru Day Ten: Learning to Breathe...

2008-07-18T23:43:00.000-05:00

Wikipedia says that Cuzco is 10, 800 feet above sea level. As a point of comparison, Denver is 5,280 feet above sea level. Numbers like that didn't really frighten me before we arrived in Cusco (which is frequently spelled with both a 'z' and an 's', so I'll be changing it up throughout the article because variety is the spice of life). For one thing, everytime we talked about the trip, the altitude of Cusco changed. I thought, "Well, ain't this place a geographical oddity!" (Someone tell me that they got that.) No, really, it was like our own tourist fish story. But, I had no idea what that kind of altitude would feel like until we were really there.

On top of the altitude, we had Edith. Edith was our very knowledgable and lovely Peruvian tour guide who felt that we needed to see all of the "most important places" in Cuzco (see how I did that) and the surrounding areas. We needed to see all of these "most important places" in two days. And, all of these "most important places" involved stairs.

Part of our group was knocked out of the day because of a mixture of scary Peruvian virus and altitude sickness, so only about ten of us were on the bus for Tour Day One, or, as I like to call it, The Day of Llama and Lungs. We were very aware of both by the end of the day. We saw a church built on an Incan Temple and an impressive Incan structure where the Cuscans (?) were going to have their Sun Festival later that week. But, the highlights of the day were the Llama and Alpaca Petting Zoo and the Sun Temple.

Edith told us that we were going to a place where we could interact with Llama and Alpaca. Interaction was right. We walked, up a hill, of course, and we were greeted by pen after pen of the most unattractive animals God ever created. They're like babies that are so ugly that they've swung back around to cute again. They're pity cute. We went into the pens and were given alfalfa to feed them. K and H were the funniest things that I have ever seen. H would feed the llama and then move away with the alfalfa in her hands, so the llama would follow. It took her something like ten minutes to figure out that the llama would stop chasing her if she would drop the alfalfa. In the meantime, she did some major flailing trying to get them away. K was penned against a fence by the tallest llama. He was soon joined by two other friends who surrounded her. It was great.

We left the zoo and went onto lunch. After lunch, we went to the sun temple. Denyse has written a great article about this experience, and I won't retell all of it. I'll just say that I finally felt all 10,000 feet above sea level. I've mentioned my proclivity for falling before, so just imagine me climbing 200 steps light-headed. Nothing about that says "happy vacation memory". It says "scary story the rest of the team will be telling in the reflection service/funeral for Elizabeth". Still, I climbed, and I made it. Well, I should say we made it because Denyse and K were there to make sure I didn't take a tumble down the Andes. We made it to the top, took some pictures, rescued H and S from the "Danger- Do Not Cross" zone of the trail, and headed back down after about fifteen minutes. I had no idea that going down would be worse than climbing up. Looking down, I knew how far I had to fall. My temptation was to sit and scoot down all 200 steps. Again, memories of ski school came to mind...

Anyway, I made it. But in a moment of pure, life-is-a-musical genius, this is the song that was in my head as I walked down...

I'm learning to breathe.
I'm learning to crawl.
I'm learning that You and You alone can break my fall.
I'm living again, awake and alive.
I'm learning to breathe in these abundant skies.

Peru Day Nine: I'll Fly Away...

2008-07-18T23:37:00.000-05:00

A Haiku in Honor of a Beautiful, Smooth Flight Over the Andes Mountains from Lima to Cuzco...

Oh, Lan pilot man,

Thank you for a peaceful flight.

I did not throw up.

Peru Day Eight: God of this City...

2008-07-18T23:04:00.000-05:00

Dear Trujillo,

Thank you for opening your arms to us over and over again. More than a month gone, and I miss you. I miss people who are willing to admit that they long for something more. I miss late-night adventures singing "Off to See the Wizard" through your streets. I miss your police officers who whistled at us, so that we would stop singing and get to our hotel. I miss Julie and Marco and Julio and Pastor Tito and the many others who live their lives as servants, looking for every opportunity to serve you, and in doing so, serve the One who called them. I miss your yellow taxis, their constant honking, and fearless driving. I miss your women and your children. I miss their singing. I miss your markets. I miss their low, low prices and rows of luggage, shoes, and furniture. I miss your beautiful churches. I miss your dusty neighborhoods.

Thank you for letting us be a part of the work that God is doing. God willing, we'll be back...

Peru Day Seven: For Good...

2008-07-13T22:17:00.000-05:00

I've been thinking about a baby named Keith that my parents took care of when I was four or five years-old. I really only have a few blurry recollections of Keith. He was the child of a single mother. I don't really know the whole situation. I know that she was young and couldn't take care of Keith all of the time, so he would come and stay at our house for days and weeks at a time. I don't know how my parents came to know Keith or his mother, and I really don't remember ever even meeting the young woman, but I remember Keith. I remember a playpen that used to sit at the end of my parents' bed where he would sleep. I remember going to pick Keith up from the daycare where his mother left him. I remember my mom talking to the director of the daycare about some health problems that Keith was having because of neglect. I remember thinking, as a five-year-old, that it was nice to have another younger brother.

I don't really know what happened to Keith. His mother picked him up one day, and I don't remember ever seeing him again. I remember asking my mom, once I was old enough to better understand what was going on with Keith, if she knew whatever happened to him. She didn't.

Keith was just one of many children (and eventually teenagers) who would come through my parents' house, be loved and cared for by them, and eventually move on. Some are still close by, some are not. Some have stayed in touch, some have not. Some have gone on to do incredible things that have made my parents proud, some haven't. I've just been overwhelmed recently with the type of love that is. To love kids- your own, their friends (good and bad), children of strangers who need help, kids in the youth group (good and bad), hundreds of kids on dozens of mission trips- without expectation. To love people for the time that they are in your life, unconditionally, and then let go.

On our seventh day, working in New Jerusalem, I fell in love. I had noticed a little girl named Alison on our first day, but on our second day, she made a point to get to know me. Alison is six-years-old and has the most beautiful brown eyes you've ever seen. She is a hugger. On the first day, she caught my attention because she was wearing a red, crocheted hat and scarf combo. She is a girl with an eye for fashion. I love that. Alison is great because she knows how to work a situation to her advantage. She knows that she's cute, and she was quick to bat her long eyelashes and hug whichever of us was around if she wanted an extra crayon or another sticker. She was not afraid to assert her authority with the other kids, especially the boys, if they tried to take her stickers or crayons.

That night, Alison sat in my lap at church, and I met her mother, Marilu. Her mother is a beautiful, soft-spoken woman who was quick to thank us and hug us. Marilu introduced us to her son, Christian, who wanted to practice his English. I fell in love with the whole family. I told Denyse, on our way home that night, that I wanted to bring the whole family back home with us. It was an off-handed comment, and obviously, I didn't really think that I could bring the whole family back to the U.S., but I've thought about Alison and her family a lot over the weeks since we've been home. She reminded me of other children and families that I've met while on mission trips, people whose pictures I have in boxes. Occasionally, something will happen, and they'll come to mind. Denyse and I still talk about Arturo, the little boy from Santa Engracia, who was shunned because he was thought to be stupid. By the end of our week with him, we had discovered that he was simply deaf. His name comes up, and I wonder what happened to him. He's a teenager, now. I wonder what will happen to Alison and her family.

I think that this happens to anyone who is lucky enough to be a part of a trip like this one. You fall in love. Usually, at some point during the trip, you meet someone with whom you connect. And, as I said, the prideful American in me thinks that it would be best if I could bring them back. But, as I've prayed for Alison and Arturo this week, I've begun to pray something different. I've begun to pray for two things:

1. I'm praying that Alison and the hundreds of other children with whom I've had the privilege to work will come to know Christ. I'm praying that I'll go back to Peru in 10 years and Alison will be our new Julie. I'm praying that she'll be leading Vacation Bible Schools and street evangelism. I'm praying that her family will be blessed because they blessed us for the three days that we were lucky enough to be in their neighborhood.
2. I'm praying that I'll be quick to love. I know that this sounds strange, but I think that it's one of my greatest weaknesses. I guard myself. But, for some reason, in Peru, I let down my guard. I want to love people more. I have 120 beautiful children that will come through the doors of my classroom in a few short weeks, and I want them to know that they matter to me. I want them to know that they are loved, unconditionally, for the time that they are with me, even when I have to let go.

Peru Day Six: Falling Slowly...

2008-07-10T12:34:00.000-05:00

So... my posts up to this point have been fairly serious. This one is not.

On day six of the trip, we had just begun working in New Jerusalem, another small area of Trujillo. I thought that Alto Trujillo was dusty and hilly. I didn't know dusty and hilly until we arrived in New Jerusalem. If you've ever been to Six Flags and stood in Casa Magnetica, you understand what we were dealing with. There was really no way to stand up straight. You had to lean into the hill, which was difficult for me because I would finally get it down, and then the sand would move, and my balance would be thrown off. I suddenly had flashbacks of the year that I attended ski school and was asked to stand off to the side out of the way of the other ski schoolers because I couldn't ski straight, and I kept veering off into the line. It's a bitter memory for me. Really, who gets kicked out of ski school?

Anyway... we were having another medical clinic on that Friday morning, and since most of us are not medical professionals, we found ourselves without much to do. In a moment of brilliance, I remembered that I had frisbees in my backpack. What could have been better than to play frisbee with all of the children on a sandy mountain??? So, H, K, N, and I started playing frisbee, and we attracted a crowd. Now, we hadn't been around these children before, so we didn't know that they would quickly turn the friendly game into tackle frisbee. So, then, we were not only playing frisbee on a sandy mountain, but we were tackling. Brilliant. Amazingly, I made it through the entire morning of "Tackle Sandy Mountain Frisbee" without falling. I was so proud of myself. And, you know what they say about pride...

That afternoon, Denyse and I had wandered down to the grocery store to buy some water and Inca Cola. Apparently, it slipped our mind that H wasn't with us, and I received a text while standing in the checkout line that read something like, "Tell my mom not to freak out, but where are y'all???" Poor thing, she went to the room to go to the bathroom, and we left her. She was fine, and it probably worked out for the best because...

As we came back from the grocery store and were about to go into the lobby of Las Mercedes, I fell. Now, I have stayed in that hotel many, many times, and the same foot-high step is there that has always been there. But, in that moment, I didn't even step up. I just stepped forward and fell down. On my face. With the doorman standing there holding the door, not sure what to do. I felt myself falling and even remember scanning the room as I fell to see who was there to witness the blessed event. Everyone was there... most of the team, all of the translators, Pastor Tito. I quickly popped around and saw Denyse standing behind me trying to look sympathetic and not laugh. Quickly, though, I lost it. I had to step away from the door I was laughing so loudly and violently. If I hadn't fallen almost every week of my life up to that point, it probably would have been traumatic. But, I thought it was hilarious. The poor doorman thought I was crazy. I finally got myself together and made it into the hotel safely.

I still have a knot on my right shin from the fall, and I still laugh everytime I feel it. I'm sure there's some brilliant spiritual application to this story, but I just decided that my clumsiness was not limited to the US, it is international.

Peru Day Five: Let's Hear it for the Boy(s)...

2008-07-05T16:38:00.000-05:00

"What do you see in the churches here?" he asked.

"I think the pastors here are drowning," I answered. "The churches are filled with women and children, but there are only a handful of men in any of them. The churches need leadership, and the pastors need help."

And, then, that afternoon...

I looked around, and the men from our team were holding babies and stapling paper plate tamborines and passing out bubble gum. They were laughing and playing and performing all of the motions to "Father Abraham" in Spanish. N was holding Diego and smiling at the beautiful little boy. J and J were in the sand, one directing the relay races, the other translating... both wondering how they were going to ever get the kids to understand "Over, Under". R and B were grinning from ear to ear at the infants in their arms; the mothers were in Bible study making cross necklaces. T was passing out crayons.

They didn't know what a blessing it was. They weren't looking around for something more appropriate or manly to do. They were leading by serving. They were, in those moments, the embodiment of what those churches need, of what our churches need. Godly men willing to set the example.

Peru Day Four: Adopted...

2008-07-05T15:24:00.000-05:00

Hogar de Esparanza, or Home of Hope, is a small orphanage sitting about 10 miles outside of Trujillo proper. Forty children live at the orphanage, and of those, 11 are currently available for adoption. David and Vickie Miller sold their business in the United States and built this state-of-the-art facility for the orphans of Peru. Currently, Robin and Joel, a young couple from Colorado, are running the orphanage. They sold their home, quit their jobs, and volunteered to work in the orphanage for a year.

The Unicef website says that 3.8 million people in Peru live in "extreme poverty", and 2.1 million of those are children. Out of the 10 million Peruvian children under the age of 18, 6.5 million live below the poverty line. Peru has one of highest rates of orphans per capita of any country in the world, and as the rates of poverty and AIDS continue to grow in the country, that number will continue to grow.

"Behold, to the Lord your God belong heaven and the hightest heavens, the earth and all that is in it. Yet on your fathers did the Lord set His affection to love them, and He chose their descendants after them, even you above all peoples, as it is this day. Circumcise then your heart, and stiffen your neck no more. For the Lord your God is the God of gods and the Lord of lords, the great, the mighty, and the awesome God who does not show partiality, nor take a bribe. He executes justice for the orphan and the widow, and shows His love for the alien by giving him food and clothing. So show your love for the alien, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt. You shall fear the Lord your God; you shall serve Him and cling to Him, and you shall swear by his name. He is your praise and He is your God, who has done these great and awesome things for you which your eyes have seen."

Deuteronomy 10:14-21

"Hallelujah, God has spoken and I know this changes eveything.

Hallelujah, praise Him only, sing the slaves adopted by the King.

Glory be to my Father who reigns.

For I met Him and I cannot be the same.

When in bondage, to Jesus I came.

He took my place, and He changed my name."

To meet some of the beautiful Peruvian children and to see how you can help Hogar de Esparanza, go to their website at http://www.perukids.com/.

Peru Day Three: Take a Chance on Me (or Us)...

2008-06-29T22:03:00.000-05:00

Writer's block is a terrible thing, especially when all you write is a blog, and you've only written two of those. I've had a difficult time over the last few days deciding what to write about day three of our trip. Even in the last hour, I've started three different times and deleted everything only to start over. It's not that the third day of our trip was uneventful; it was the first day that we were actually "on mission". But, I think I have developed adult ADD, and I've been struggling with the focus of the day. So, I'm stealing from the Bible study that I did with the team that day, which was stolen from a podcast that I had listened to on the way to Peru. So, really, I have developed adult ADD and kleptomania. Scary. An easily distracted thief... can't be very profitable.

Anyway... for the past few years, I have been listening to podcasts from The Village Church. Usually, I'm a snob about the podcasts, and I'll only listen to the sermons preached by the actual pastor of the church. Nothing against the other guys, but when you click on the podcast and an unfamiliar voice announces that he's filling in for Matt this week, it feels like when you go to see a Broadway show and those small white pieces of paper fall out of the playbill announcing that "the part of Jean Valjean will be played by... tonight". I always feel like I'm missing out on something when that happens. The show may still be good, but in the back of my mind, I just know that it could have been better if the real Jean Valjean had just sucked it up and overcome his laryngitis. It's especially unnerving when five or six of those little white pieces of paper fall out of your playbill. Then, you're worried about the quality of the show and the epidemic that must be running rampant in the theater. Yikes, I'm all over the place, ADD kicking in, better watch your valuables...

So, when I saw a sermon titled "Why Was Jonah So Angry?" on my iPod, I was intrigued because I hadn't notice that one before. I played it and almost turned it off because it wasn't the pastor, it was a little white piece of paper. But, for some reason, I listened despite my bias, and it was good. The message focused on Jonah and his attitude as he prophesied to the people of Nineveh. It's a familiar story... man is called to preach to his archnemeses (I don't know if that works as a plural, but we'll go with it), man ignores the call and tries to escape to Spain, man is thrown off of ship and eaten by large fish, man is thrown up by said fish, man decides to do as he is told, man prophesies for three days throughout the city of crazy, violent enemies, man is shocked when all of the crazy, violent enemies believe his message and repent, man is angry with God for saving crazy, violent enemies and goes to countryside to pout, God sends a vine to shade undeserving man and man is grateful, God kills vine and undeserving man pouts again, man asks God for death, God calls man ungrateful whiner. It's a familiar story, but as I listened to the message, I thought about two big things that I hadn't before:
1. Jonah was a missionary with a 100% success rate, and he missed the whole thing.
2. The reaction of the Ninevites should have been to kill Jonah and never give him a second thought, but they let him walk their city for three days, and they believed what the crazy, angry prophet from a country they hated (who had just been thrown up and couldn't have looked good) had to say.
The podcast was really very good. I would encourage you to go to iTunes and download it (for free). But, the message focused on Jonah and his role in the story.

As I've been thinking about the third day of our trip, our first real day working with the Peruvian people, I've been thinking a lot about the Ninevites. What must they have thought as Jonah was walking through their city? On that third day, we began walking through the city. Well, a section of the city, anyway. We broke into groups that first morning and went door-to-door in Alto Trujillo, a small area in Trujillo, to invite people to the events of the next three days. While K, J, and I were walking with Julie, our translator, we saw an older man walking up and down a hill bringing water to his home from the neighborhood well. I watched a little boy, who couldn't have been more than three- or four- years old, helping his uncle unload huge bags of chicken feed from the back of a truck. I walked over to help him in his struggle and looked like an idiot when I almost threw the bag of feed over my shoulder because I so drastically overestimated its weight. Even the little boy knew that I'd never been anywhere near a bag of chicken feed. I don't know about K and J, but I nearly lost it several times trying to walk in the sand. I fall a lot on my home terrain. Sand frightens me. We went to door after door, person after person, and handed out tracts and invitations. In listening to Julie, I understood the invitation. "We are having Vacation Bible School for the children at three each day. We are having a ladies group time each day at three. Each night at seven, we will be having services for the whole family." Then, she would point to us. "Our friends from America have come to visit with you."

Throughout the morning, we developed a following. Dogs followed us. K loved the dogs. I did not love the dogs. Children followed us. Two little girls, Marjorie and Rosita, volunteered to be our guides around the neighborhood. Other children joined them. The boy with the chickens was with us for awhile. At one house, an older woman wanted Julie to tell us that she was grateful to God that we had come all this way. She was a believer who followed us down the street so that she could get a salvation bracelet. That day, we had 120 children in Bible school and almost 50 women in the afternoon Bible study.

I remember being in the Taipei airport a few years ago when my friend, N, turned to me, in the midst of a group of Taiwanese believers there to greet us, and said, "Do you ever wonder why they want us here at all?" I wonder that all the time.

Peru Day Two: Home...

2008-06-25T19:33:00.000-05:00

When I was younger, there was a part of me that was always uneasy when watching movies like "The Wizard of Oz" or "Annie" where a little girl was separated from her home and family. At the time, the terms conflict and plot development never entered my mind, and I always thought that the movies would have been better if Auntie Em could have just come with Dorothy to Oz or Daddy Warbucks could have rescued Annie and the girls from their hardknock life in the beginning of the movie and the remaining hour and a half could have been spent singing with the happy servants and going to watch movies at Radio City Music Hall. It made me uncomfortable to think about anyone being separated from a comfortable home and the love of family. It always seemed too real, too close.

There is a part of me that still feels that uneasiness when I travel. Too many things could leave me separated from home and family. But, the more times I go to Peru, the less it feels like a separation, and the more it has begun to feel like a homecoming. When we arrive in Trujillo, beautiful friends are always waiting, tiramisu and grilled cheese and frozen lemonade are ready at Oviedo's, warm congregations are praying and singing "Solamente in Cristo"... it just feels like home. When we arrived in Trujillo this time, after our fourth flight, Marco and Julie and Pastor Tito were waiting. They took us to Las Mercedes, our regular hostel in Trujillo, and we were given several hours to rest, after which, we went to eat. You really can't beat a day that revolves around food and rest. As we sat at the dinner table and laughed with new friends from Oklahoma and old friends from Texas and Peru, I started to think again about home. What is more descriptive of home than a place where you can sit around a table with people you love?

By the end of the trip (which I'll get to eventually), I was beginning to feel the uneasiness again. I was uncomfortable being so far away from the people and places that are most familiar. Still, there's an uneasiness, now, being away from the people I love in Peru. I've been reminded, in thinking about the idea of home, of a book I read in college called The Sacred Romance. The book centers around the love story between God and his children, but the final chapter, "Coming Home", has always meant a lot to me. I remember reading it for the first time and thinking that a little bit of life made more sense. The premise of the chapter is this: Christ-followers will never be completely at ease while here on Earth. It is just a temporary home. How can we be comfortable here when we have so much more waiting for us? One of the authors, John Eldredge, quotes C. S. Lewis: "If I find in myself desires which nothing in this world can satisfy, the only logical explanation is that I was made for another world."

These thoughts came into view even more clearly as our trip progressed. But, as I think about our first night in Trujillo, I see beauty in the fact that God has given us a glimpse of the home we'll find in heaven when we sit around a table with fellow believers in any corner of this world- in Texas or Trujillo. Like Dorothy in Oz, we find friends along the way with the same path to walk who are a comfort when the uneasiness comes and we realize that we are so far away from home.

Peru Day One: All the Lonely People...

2008-06-24T19:56:00.000-05:00

In a moment of unbridled optimism, I announced to the team that I have been with in Peru that I would be writing 12 straight days of blogs upon our return- one blog for each of the days of our trip. I think it was the lack of oxygen to my brain (at 12-thousand feet above sea level) that led me to make such a proclamation. Well, here's number one, and we'll see how the rest go.
People that know me know that I love to travel. People that really know me, know that I love to be in foreign and strange places but know that the getting there is enough to send me into days of panic attacks and intense prayer. Like fall on your face, "valley of the shadow of death", unreasonable bargaining with God prayer.
It generally begins with the packing. In the past, I have pushed the limits of the two-suitcases of 75-lbs. standards set by airlines, but the new 50-lb. weight limit is almost more than I can handle. In my mind, it is unnecessary to take 12 pairs of shoes on a 12-day trip, but in my heart, I want my shoes with me if something should go wrong. This leads me to the greatest source of my paper-bag breathing and late-night psalms of petition. Flying. I've read recently on the sources of the fear of flying. The general concensus seems to be that people who are afraid to fly are unwilling to relinquish control. Well, if that isn't just a blaring neon sign as to the source of most of the problems in my life- of course I'm unwilling to relinquish control. I won't relinquish control to the creator of the universe; I definitely don't want to relinquish control to a pilot who may or may not have just had several drinks with lunch. Really??? Unwilling to relinquish control??? Am I the only one with this problem???
Anyway... I do generally find the strength to get past my control issues and get on the plane or planes as was the case on this trip. Ten planes in 12 days to be exact. I know, God has a sense of humor, for sure. So, we flew from Dallas to Atlanta without any problems. One down, nine to go. The only problem, thus far, was that we were running late, and there were 18 of us. It goes without saying that the other passengers on our plane from Atlanta to Miami were less than filled with the love of Christ when we ran onto the plane more than 20 minutes late. In one of the most-quoted moments of the trip, a less-than-satisfied flyer commented to her boyfriend on the phone, "Ask me why I'm late! Go ahead, ask me! (Pause.) Missionaries!!!" I've decided that matching shirts with the name of the organization worn by 18 people really isn't necessarily the best idea.
Our tardiness was only the beginning of the oddities to occur on the Atlanta to Miami flight. I sat down in my assigned seat next to a man that has since become affectionately known as "My Friend, Ben". Initially, I thought that Ben might be someone important, only because he was on his laptop, wearing sunglasses at night (pause for Denyse singing), and he was one of those people that is too interesting looking to be anything normal (see the picture of some guy from Criminal Minds who looks a lot like Ben). Well, I don't know about important, but he definitely wasn't normal. My first clue came when my friend, Ben, refused to close his laptop as instructed several times by our less-than-pleasant flight attendants. He was asked no less than ten times to close his laptop, and he refused. I really thought that I was about to be a part of a ten o'clock news segment where we were all deplaned because a passenger and a flight attendant had a WWE moment in the aisle of our Boeing 717. Finally, Ben did close his laptop, and then the real fun began.
As we began to taxi out to the runway, Ben removed his sunglasses, and in a moment that I will never forget, he said, "Do you have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ?" (Heart catches in throat, thinking the belligerent passenger is some kind of renegade evangelist. But, it gets worse.)
I answer, "Yes, I do."
"I'm feeling uneasy about this flight. Could you pray for us?"
(Mouth hangs open. I think, yeah, I'm uneasy, too, crazy.)
And, in a moment where I knew that the words coming out of my mouth were not my own, I prayed.
Now, I know that there are some Christians who crave moments like this, but right or wrong, I am not one of those. Still, after I prayed, Ben and I kept talking. At some point in the next two minutes, I began to smell a strange chemical smell. I don't know what it was, but my brilliant reaction to my seatmate and the smell was to say loudly while laughing, "Do you smell that? What is that strange smell?" K and J, who were sitting in front of me and obviously did not smell what I was smelling, responded that they had just opened a bag of Twizzlers. The situation was becoming so bizarre, and my response to any really tense situation is irrational laughter. But, slowly, the smell subsided. I prayed like I had never prayed before. Everyone else on the plane listened to their iPods and read their books and ate Twizzlers, and I listened to Ben.
He was on his way from a university in Massachusetts to a university in Miami. He had his Bachelor's and Master's degrees in evolutionary biology and had been recruited by the university in Miami to continue his research and work on his Ph.D. His mother had just died of a stroke. His father was dying of a brain tumor. He had just found out that his father had sexually abused his sister as a child. He had been raised in an Assembly of God church, but he hadn't felt God in years. In fact, his research was pointing toward the conclusion that everything is random, and no one is in control.
I was trying to take in all of the information being thrown at me. At the same time, I was thinking, why am I the one sitting next to Ben? Can I subtly switch seats with S who will probably have many more words of wisdom for my friend, Ben? Then, Ben began to tell me about his months spent in Columbia working with the Assembly of God church, reaching out to the people of that country. Why would a god let them live that way? Why do they continue to go to mass? Why are we so blessed when they are so poor? Why does everything seem so random if it is not? Why did my mother have to die? Why did my father do that if he really believes that God requires more of him? Why can't I feel God?
In those moments, I heard my friend, Ben, recount all of my greatest fears. He was the living embodiment of all of the deepest questions. Talking to him was like talking to the hidden part of myself that is always unsure. Yet, in those moments, I felt a security that I've known before. In those moments, I knew that it wasn't all random. Could I explain that to Ben? Absolutely not. Did I try? Not really. I knew that my seat next to Ben wasn't random. I knew that the events of Ben's life that led up to our meeting were not random. I couldn't explain why. I can't begin to understand why people in Columbia or Peru or China or Sudan live in the conditions they do, and I live a life that revolves around luggage weight and shoes. I didn't have any answers, really. I just listened and was strengthened in the fact that his questions didn't unnerve me. I've asked the questions, and, as cheesy as it sounds, I've been given all the Answer that I need.
Ben still refused to turn off his laptop as we prepared for landing. I really thought the flight attendant was going to take him down. I've prayed for my friend, Ben, every day since then. I don't know what will happen to him, but I'm hoping that he finds the Answer that he's looking for. I pray that he finds people that will point him to the Answer.