More about goodbyes... sorry ya'll

One of many of my goodbyes

You'd think that packing and moving apartments would be enough to distract me from the goodbyes overseas that I'm not even making right now, but it's not. I wrote about the goodbyes that my sisters and the other kids leaving international schools around the world are making this week. I find it really difficult to write about accurately, to truly convey what it is that these kids are going through. On the outside it appears to just be kids leaving for college.

Rach and I and one of the amazing sunsets we watched together

On that post, my best friend Rachel that I grew up with in Papua commented in response to my last line, in which I said I was looking forward to welcoming my sister into my home and letting her grieve and just telling her it's gonna be okay. Rach reacted to it all with emotion - saying it's still NOT okay. I know what she means. We left together, on the same plane. We've dealt with that grief together. And you know - when I said goodbye, and as I wrestled with the deep, deep grief that resulted from it, some of the most comforting moments were when people recognized that we had done more than say goodbye - that a part of our life had died, and that it was okay to grieve because death should be grieved.

The airport in Sentani


SO many times this week I've had tears sting my eyes and I'll try to blink them away, thinking it's ridiculous that all of this still makes me emotional. But it does. There's plenty of people that don't go through these things the same way Rach and I do, but for us, that grief is an unmovable, monumental part of life. There's this balance that we try to find between knowing that goodbyes and separation and pain are NOT the way we were made to live - that this is a part of a broken world, and it's okay that we're not okay with it. It's a tragedy, and we suffer because of it. On the other hand, we also try to grasp that healing IS possible, that we can walk on because Christ participates in our pain with us, and that our future is filled with hope and beauty both in this life and eternity.

So - that is the reality I try to live in.

But when I see these kids going through such a deep, deep time of grief, I ACHE for them.

So.. I have to write about it. Because when I feel things, I have to write.

I remember on the morning of the second airport trip in my last week at home, I'd gone to the airport but simply couldn't stand there and participate in the goodbyes. I gave my friends a quick hug and took off, nearly running down the road away from the airport, just wanting to get AWAY, to not have to do it, to not have to say goodbye again and again and again and watch the world that I loved be ripped away. I wept as I went, and found myself ripping leaves and flowers off of the shrubbery I was going past. I would look at them and then rip them into pieces and throw them into the wind, an attempt to somehow physically express the anger and pain that I couldn't yet process since there was so much more to come.

Guys... it's PAINFUL. I wish I could express to you how painful it is. I've been watching the steady update of photos from my school on facebook. I think I especially keenly relate this year because this graduating class has been repeatedly compared to my class, and there are many similarities between them. In a world that changes quickly, it's amazing how little seems to have changed between their world and mine 8 years ago. The places, the traditions, the particular ceremonies, the way they interact and the way they deal with it all... it's nearly all the same.

Last night was their graduation. Mr. Cripe, who was my class sponsor for as long as I can remember, had his oldest graduate this year. I remember sitting in my plastic chair in my blue robe and having Mr. Cripe seated next to all of us next to the Indonesian dignitaries. I remember the moment I exited the building and joined my whooping and hollering class outside. I have teary-eyed photos with my dad, Jana, and Alysa. I remember falling asleep on the gym cement steps during the after-party, unwilling to go home and leave the festivities, not wanting to miss a moment (I'm still like that).

The girls from the graduating class of 2009

I remember being awakened a couple of days later early in the morning by things being thrown at my window, and Emily and I realizing our crazy friends were outside, and that we were being recruited to go watch the sunrise. I remember last talks under the stars, I remember how the last sunrise I watched at the beach looked, and how it lit up the water so it looked like molten gold. I remember Rachel walking out into it, like she was walking into heaven.



I remember riding on my motorcycle on that last day, driving through town with Emily saying goodbye to everything - the speed bumps and potholes and the ojek stand (motorcycle taxis), the little stores, the beautiful view halfway up HIS hill, Mount Cyclops, our lunch spot by our lockers, the pondok we used to sit and talk in, the computer lab, the gorgeous view over the ravine. We wrote a final message under the lunch table, which it turns out is still there, and people add their names before leave every year. Such a random tradition.

I remember packing by candlelight because the power was out while my friends and classmates milled around - I don't know why everyone was at my house, but they were. And I remember my Dad holding me at 4 in the morning while I wept for the loss of a dream. I remember waiting in line at the airport and feeling emotionless, it was all too big to grasp. I remember Jared being there, and standing with Rachel and Fiona and Emily and I, and how we cried aloud as we pulled Fiona out of Jared's hug and toward the airplane. I'm so thankful for Jared, by the way. I remember my family, all of them in tears and in a clump with their arms around each other and Rach and Ken as I walked alone through the airport doors in Bali.

Our final goodbyes in Papua were literally right here:


I remember. It hasn't gone away. There's a line in the song that we sang so often back then, Plankeye's "Goodbye". "Now all that's left is pictures on the wall, memories and stories that are told. The more often told, the bigger they get to create a legacy, lest we forget."

I knew that line would be true and it is - I am still filled with the stories of the place and people that I loved in Papua. Those stories have been told and retold every time we get together, and we laugh and remember. I'm thankful for that, but at the time you HATE it, because you don't want it to be pictures on your bedroom or dorm room wall, you don't want it to just be memories, you want those people and places to remain your everyday reality. Watching them slip away before your eyes and become the past is ever so painful.

I've said many goodbyes since them, and some are hard and some are not, but none of them have been ANYTHING like that goodbye in 2001.

So... yeah. I've been praying my heart out for all of my loved ones that are doing it now.

Do we actually care about missions, poverty, orphans, and the nations of the world, or are we all talk?

Shaun Groves, a singer song-writer and advocate for Compassion International posted last week about this pastor in India that is doing all of this practical humanitarian work in his church in India. The post got 90-some comments on it cheering on the pastor and condemning the lack of churches in the U.S. that use their space to meet practical community needs. That is, all except one commenter, who basically said to all of the other commenters that they were all talk, and that if they really wanted to be active in their communities, they would be.

Shaun recognized the irritation and perhaps cynicism on the part of that commenter, and so he wrote another post in response. He said:

So I posted the My Witness Challenge. I spread the word about it through Twitter
and Facebook - rallied all the troops I could. I asked everyone to dream a little and share their plan for meeting the physical and spiritual needs of those around them. I asked everyone to write down their plan and send me the details or a link if they blogged them. I promised I’d compile everyone’s great ideas and post them here today so we could all be inspired and bring some more of that good work we all loved in India back home where we live.
*crickets*
Are we all talk?

Shaun was rather shocked by the disparity between the amount of people that railed against the American church's lack of community service, but then the very small amount of people who wanted to have anything to do with solving the problem.


I have been very personally convicted about this. I am very willing to send money to sponsor a kid overseas, which is awesome, but is it just because I get cute letters and it makes me feel good about myself? It's so distant from me that it takes very little personal involvement and sacrifice, just a check a month. It's easily romanticized. My parents generation can get all fired up about missions, but sometimes I wonder if it's just because it's exotic and cool. My generation gets fired up about things like Invisible Children and justice and all of that, but that is also exotic and cool.


I've come to the conclusion that if we actually care about justice, about missions, about kids living in poverty and the people of the world, then we will do something about it RIGHT here. If we are unwilling to do that, then I question our motivations.

Ultimately, a community of people that truly knows God will be transformed to be like Christ and will love like Him. Of course every church is flawed, but the community around the church SHOULD be transformed by it. The love of God for the poor, the hurting, the widows, the orphans, the marginalized, the sick, the mentally ill, the strangers...... those are the people that God passionately cares for and defends throughout scripture. Those are the people that WE should also passionately care for and defend.

I was totally convicted by this, beginning in college. In downtown Chicago you have to be blind to not notice the desperate poverty of the ghettos of the city. My school matched me and my hubby with tutoring positions with the children of homeless people, immigrants, and folks with HIV. My corner of the world here in Dallas is very different, and at first I felt like I was surrounded by affluent folks that didn't outwardly NEED anything. I was wrong.

What I said on Shaun's blog was this:

I’ve come to believe very strongly that if we truly care for the nations, then we will recognize that they are also here, at our doorstep, in the form of refugees, international students, and immigrants. We are called to love and care for them, because they are the modern day equivalent of the alien and the stranger that God commanded his people to love.

10 minutes away from the swankiest mall in Dallas and my wealthy mega-church is a massive refugee community living in cheap housing. Thousands of them, and growing by the month. They come from Iraq, Bhutan, Burma, and many other places. Most of them have been waiting for YEARS in camps. They are lonely, many can’t speak English, and most come here with absolutely no money.

I am continually humbled to find people pouring out their lives for the homeless, the poor, children, refugees, the abused... etc..etc. On the other hand, I grow very frustrated when I come across the trend that Shaun is recognizing: people and churches that jump on a bandwagon of missions or justice but are unwilling to get personally involved.

(photo of refugee family on their first morning in the U.S.)

For little over a year, I've been on a journey of attempting to learn how meet the needs of refugees here in Dallas. I've written some about it here and want to write more about what it's been like to be a sponsor to a newly-arrived refugee family. In that journey I'm struck by how often these precious people reach out to ME and encourage me, which is really the way it should be. Relationship, not charity. I've also just become all the more passionate about how HUGE this need is, and how much I think it is a part of the heartbeat of God and the mission of the church in U.S. Refugees are flooding in to cities all over the U.S. - we should be there to welcome them.

(refugee friends reconciled)

Don't mess with little old ladies!

This lady is awesome.

the desk of a seminary student during finals week

I took these photos a couple of weeks ago on the evening of Isaac's last day of finals. He'd stayed up all night the night before - I woke up to him walking out the door at 7:30 singing with jubilation that he'd finished his final paper after 9 hours of work through the night.

*shudders*

This is his corner. He has a desk, but he rarely uses it. Ever since he got his laptop and we picked up this easy-chair one day after finding it beside a dumpster, he's made it his space. He reads there, writes papers, and in general lives life.

One one side, the remnants of some of the books he used in his paper. That's Karl Barth there, second from the top. Note also the Texas mug, which is, in my opinion, hypocrisy. First of all, he's only lived in Texas for two years, so he has no right to be all loyal. Secondly, no self-respecting Texan would drink English tea with cream as Isaac always does when he needs caffeine.

From spring 2009

And on the other side, a Greek New Testament (which Isaac can now read pretty easily) propped up on his handy little book-stand thing. Files and papers are piled in the corner, with a computer game awaiting the end of the semester so he can finally play at his leisure. And .... allergy meds, because for about two months of spring in Dallas, Isaac can't breathe out of his nose.

From spring 2009

So he's done, and at home without homework in the evenings, and we are both thoroughly relieved. It was time for a break. And summer.

Goodbye, Texas spring, good riddance to the endless rain of this past month!

From spring 2009

right now tcks around the world are saying goodbye

The talk of goodbyes is everywhere.

My sister is leaving the country that parents work in overseas... for good. They're saying goodbye.

I still know a lot of the kids that are at the school I grew up in in Papua, Indonesia. Some of them are like my own sisters. They are also facing goodbye.

(My sister Joy and Zoe, about 10 years ago? Both graduating this week.)

and... my dear sisters Joy and Michelle now, so grown up:

Funny. What they're actually facing is graduation, but when your LIFE has been wrapped up in a place that you will now leave and never come back to, the greater event is the goodbye.

There's a sense of frenetic activity in the last weeks of a tck's life overseas - cramming in activities, knowing you will never have another chance to do it. Romance blooms because of the intensity of the emotions and again, the knowledge that this is the last chance. There's a sense of impending pain - tears come easily.

Facebook shows statuses and comments like these:
"It's the final countdown!!!!"
"The beginning of the end"
"I refuse to pack"
"the pain of leaving is physical"
"I'm throwing away my heart and my history"
"please please don't say it's the last 6 days"

For them, this week is filled with ceremonies and celebrations. Finished finals, parties, graduations. In Papua they'll stay up all night and watch sunrises together, like we did. Couples will spend every extra minute together. They'll go to the beach, drive around the city, talk for hours. And then, for several mornings in a row, the entire community will gather at the airport before the morning flight out. There will be a poignant, communal grief. Some will avoid it, others will embrace it. Many, many will cry. When I did it, we had to literally be pulled onto the airplane and out of the arms of our friends. You'll watch your home disappear under the clouds. And then... after you land on the other side of the world, you begin the process of adjusting and figuring out how to live and laugh and dream in a new place, which for me was much easier than leaving.

I always feel it this time of year - sympathy pain in my heart. 8 years ago when I did this goodbye, it was the hardest thing I had ever done, and that remains true. I wish I could stop it or help them avoid it, but there's really nothing any of us can do but walk right through it.
These are from my last few months, 8 years ago:
(my graduating class, on our senior trip in Australia):

Baccalaureate, 2001.


One last get-together at my house with my family and some class members who called themselves a part of it (and were gladly welcomed!):



And, 8 years later, the seniors of 2009 at the same school, in their final week

The one thing I DO say to those facing goodbye that while they do have to leave, it's not the end of those friendships. Among my class and my friends, we all continue to get together regularly in various groups and at various events in random places around the country and world. They are still like my family. So yes - it is goodbye, and it is the end of life as you know it, but those friendships are most certainly not over.

My precious classmates from Papua, together at Jared's wedding a couple of years ago.


And, in three weeks, I'll pick up my sister from the airport, let her come home and sleep off jet lag and grief, treat her to some good sister time, shop for American clothes, and have some American fast food. I just want her to know that it's gonna be okay.

Fruit-cubes

So, this is a random idea of mine. I've been getting fantastic coupons from Kroger for their packages of frozen berries, so I've had frozen strawberries and blueberries on hand. When I brought home some extra Sprite and Mountain Dew, I had a genius moment (which always could mean totally disaster, but in this case I liked the results). Step 1: Blend together fruit. Step 2. Pour into ice trays and freeze Step 3: Add some fruit-cubes to a glass (you gotta admit, the wine glasses make it look sophisticated).

Step 4: Add sprite or mountain dew or any kind of lime or lemon pop... or I guess non-carbonated drink would work as well.

Step 5: Enjoy the transformation from fruit cubes to punch.

Why I'm Envious of Asian-Americans

The other day Isaac and I were up in Plano,\ hanging out in an adorable local coffee and boba shop. I was fascinated by watching the Chinese-American clientele and staff. There's a huge Asian-American population in Plano, and that was reflected in the people around me. There were three girls studying together with a Caucasian classmate. A friend of theirs was running the register, and he would come over and joke with them when there wasn't a line. The boss was Chinese, and smiled and talked to a number of people that came in that he knew. They all slipped easily in and out of fluent Chinese and accentless English. They all dressed incredibly trendy. They all interacted with their non-Asian-American friends with ease.

I watched because I found myself feeling envious. The Asian American community in the U.S. has often settled in pockets, so you have places like Plano where they have totally integrated into U.S. culture, but at the same time maintained their own unique identity. You still hear Chinese being spoken fluently. There's still a strong presence of Chinese restaurants and grocery stores and churches. They have maintained the balance of holding on to their unique cultural identity because IT IS their identity, but at the same time they are fully engaged and comfortable in mainstream U.S. culture.

I wish I had that ability. I still struggle to define who I am culturally. I often wish that I actually was a different ethnicity, because then people would expect me to be different culturally. I have no experience with China, but if those kids were Indonesian American, I would have had a lot in common with them, but would have felt like I didn't have a right to join their unique sub-culture.

Recently Isaac and I met up with all the guys from his small group at seminary. It's the first time we've met with all the wives and girlfriends. Turned out that because Isaac had shared with them about how his wife grew up in Asia and that I was struggling to adjust to life in Texas (which is all true), at least one of them thought I was actually Asian. Several people commented on both Isaac and my lack of an accent. It sort of seemed like they were struggling to grasp how we could have spent nearly all of our lives until we were 18 years old in an entirely different culture, but then appear ....completely like them.

It's a valid thing to wonder about, because it IS odd. For both Isaac and I, we felt alienated when we got back to the U.S. so we went to great lengths to try to blend in perfectly in order to not feel so weird and different in the place that was supposed to be home. Those tendencies stay with me. At the same time, I still find so many things about me that were formed in Indonesia and are really inextricable parts of who I am. My "home" is overseas, and hasn't faded in my memory at all, it still feels like I could open the door and see jungle and the streets of Sentani. Yet - I can't claim to be Indonesian at all.... I have never felt like that was an option for me. I will always be an orang asin (westerner) in Indonesia.

That's where the term third-culture kid comes in. Kids growing up between cultures take their parent's culture and the culture that they live in, and take ownership of neither, but create a third, unique culture. That is why I clung to the group of immigrants and missionary kids that I met when I came back to the U.S. In them, I found people with very different experiences than me, but a shared CULTURE.... and when you have walked between cultures your whole life and find yourself rather lonely in the moment, that shared culture becomes extremely important.

Since then I have stopped clinging to that identity and have attempted to not be so stuck within my sub-culture, but I still find that I undeniably share in that third-culture. That's why I find myself quite jealous of the Asian-American community. Their sub culture is understood and accepted and is found all over the U.S., but it doesn't separate its members from the broader community at all. I wish I had something like that around me - a subculture filled of people that share the same uniqueness as I do but is totally comfortable still AS AMERICANS.

WFMW - How I organize my recipes

People say I am naturally domestic in that I am the oldest of six children so I grew up mothering and helping keep house in some ways. And I do like cooking and that sort of thing. Still, I don't THRIVE on all of it, so post-marriage and post-college it really took me some time to adjust to just keeping house.

I mean, knowing how to cook really isn't enough. You have to know how to plan meals, shop bargains, know your staples, keep a to-buy list, and have a good set of meals you can whip up in 20 minutes.

That has taken me some time. I feel pretty secure in that system now, four years into marriage, though I do still have my days when I get home from working 9-5 and the very last thing I want to do is cook a meal. I suppose that's just life, though? :)

In any case, on to business. I've created a system that works for me to keep my recipes organized. It is simple and home-made, nothing fancy. I need a bunch of recipes that I've tried and can count on and pull out in an emergency. I also love to be creative and try new things. So - I have this accordian file for my untried recipes. I just clip them from the magazines or online sites that I find them and drop them in the appropriate category (beef, chicken, desserts, etc. ). When I'm looking for something new I pull out something and put those ingredients on the to-buy list for that week. If it works, I transfer it to my other recipe file, if it doensn't, I toss it.


Then I have these two recipe books for my tried and true recipes. One book was given to me at my wedding, and it had the usual categories of main dishes, veges, breakfast foods, desserts, etc. Well, I really overloaded my main dish section because that is obviously what I cook the most, so I created my own main-dish recipe book out of a photo album and sticky tabs. I ordered it by meat, so that I can note whatever meat is on sale at the grocery story and then easily search through all the recipes I have for that meat.





It works for me. I feel so domestic.

Head over to We Are That Family for other Works-for-me-Wednesday posts.

Tim Keller

Recently Isaac and I listened to a sermon that was recommended on several different blogs I read. It was Tim Keller at the Gospel Coalition Conference, and it was titled, "The Grand DeMythologizer." Tim is the pastor of one of the most active Presbyterian churches in the country, and the author of "The Reason for God" which I asked for for Christmas and is in my reading line-up. Since it came so highly recommended I was really curious to get a taste of Tim's style, and I put on the sermon while I was cleaning my kitchen this weekend.

It sort of hit me between the eyes, and I highly recommend it. It talks about idolatry and processes through the idols of our culture and for us as individuals. I've heard that idea many times... you know... money can become an idol, fame can become an idol... etc.. etc. The things that we value most highly can become idols in our lives whenever they become not just valued but prioritized. Something about the way Tim presented it was really fresh and challenging.

My struggle over the past two or so years has been struggling with career direction, job satisfaction, and in general angst about my working future. I've talked a lot about it recently. Here is where I am convicted. Am I beginning to believe that my happiness is dependent on getting the right job and walking down the right career path?

I mused on that during a long walk through a gorgeous park. The music on my ipod, the sun and the spring flowers, couples holding hands, mothers with babies, all of the beautiful wildlife and fountains and streams... it was just overwhelmingly beautiful and filled with life. I felt like I would split in two with the joy welling up inside in those moments of prayer in that beautiful place.

Because of those long walks, Tim Keller's sermon, and the conversations Isaac and I have had about it all since then, I've been rather convicted about making an idol of career and work. It is a misconception for me to think that I will be fulfilled and happy because of my job. It's like marriage. Marriage is SO much fun and I highly recommend it, but if you go into it to try to GAIN happiness and fulfillment, you will be miserable. If, on the other hand, you go into a marriage as a fulfilled and happy person, you are able to contribute that contentment to your marriage.

It's true that I should continue to search for the right fit for me in the job world, and that it is good to find something that you are truly gifted for. However, peace and contentment and fulfillment won't come to me because I've found a good job. My daily sense of peace and contentment should come from my identity in Christ. I think I have erred in where I have been placing my faith at times. Situations change, sometimes things are happy and sometimes they are difficult, but the deeper peace of identity and meaning comes from the truth that I am saved and secure in Christ. What was broken and ultimately hopeless is mended through knowing Him. In Him I hold to a daily and future hope, and therefore also joy.

My job will not fulfill me. Having children and perfect little family will not fulfill Isaac and I. The right degree and level of knowledge will not fulfill Isaac. These are all good things that bring some happiness, but they are not where we find our meaning or joy. Ultimately I am reminded that "In Christ alone, my hope is found", and that finding life and a daily joy in Him is what truly enables me to find joy in my career, our family, and (for Isaac) the academic world.

Featured Flikr Photos - Church of Wrigleyville

I went to an amazing church in Chicago and I mentioned it in my post about Easter. It certainly wasn't perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but it was so great.

I was very excited about picking my own church when I started college, so I visited a few places around the city. One Sunday morning I had no idea where I was headed, so I just went to "The Arch" and intended to hop on the next van that pulled up to take students to their church (I knew several churches offered rides). There I met my friend Bob and we joined search forces. Then a guy named Jared walked up. He was older, a flirt that was determined to find an mk from Papua to marry, and he was fun. He and told us that he was off to visit a church that had been planted by someone from his church in the burbs. It sounded good to us, so we hopped on 'el for the first of years worth of Sunday rides to Wrigleyville. We walked past the Cubs stadium and through the stately gentrified neighborhood of Wrigleyville to an ivy-covered building that we later found out was over 100 years old.

****NOTE: These are not my photos, they are from flikr. Click on the photos if you want to see more****



The sign is supposed to be funny, folks. People park at the church during game days and of course we are obligated to cheer for the Cubs because of our close proximity, hence the joke. In fact, when we got married in the building we had to schedule around the Cub's calendar.

It was an old church planted by Swedish baptists years ago, and used to connect to a small Swedish Baptist Seminary. The church was all but gone, and about six months before the pastor (over about 15 people) had handed the church to Pastor Dave, who was passionate about small, intentional community churches. They had a team of two couples come in and begin preaching to the aged, white-haired folks and the new community of young Chicago hipsters.

The first week I was there there were about 60 people, and I loved it. It was young, passionate, fresh, and genuine. I loved that it was small, I loved the acoustic worship, I loved the urban and artistic aspect. I loved the solid preaching by Pastor Dave, who preached like a teacher rather than a preacher. My style. :) And I loved that they were so intent on really getting across the power and meaning of every event and tradition. I had never understood and been so impacted by communion. In any case, I'd encourage you to take a look at some of my friend Phil's photos from their Easter service, and to note the symbolism they use. Oh, and it was cool and undeniably hip, and I gotta say I loved that too.



Candles, U2 and Coldplay playing before the service started, the pastor's wife's hot pink electric guitar, and the awesome coffee served at the back, the large percentage of people that biked to church.... all signs of being in a hippy Chicago neighborhood.



I came back... again... and again. Every year I'd bring friends, and so I always had a little group to go with, though that group was always changing. When Isaac and I left the city in 2007, the church had grown to about 300 people. Although we did struggle to get involved as busy college students, I still felt like such a part of the church since I'd been there nearly since the beginning.



This is Jon. My favorite moment from him was when he dealt with a question from a congregant about what he should do if he was gay and wanted to follow Jesus. Jon's gentleness, tears, and determination to be faithful to scripture in the midst of understanding and love.. was awesome. AND... he brought in some freakin awesome music and introduced Isaac and I to u2 ..... by using them as worship songs (not all of them, just a select few. It threw our extended family for a bit of a loop ;)).





I so appreciated the time I spent at COW. I learned SO MUCH from Dave's teaching, and from the fact that he was determined not to take charge of the church. He was insitant that the church not create programs for everything, and that if a program was needed, the congregation should organize it and take ownership of it, not the pastors. I loved his support of his wife's career, and how he guided us through marriage counseling, and how he answered Isaac's questions about the role of women in the church. I loved that he intentionally encouraged the community to seek God in many ways - studying, singing, art, prayer, silence, ancient creeds, journaling, long walks.... and even instituted those things into Sunday sometimes. Dave was a great pastor. This is him on a missions trip and his wife, who is a singer.





And here is a shot of the city during one of the baptism ceremonies of the church. I loved this event! Watching the leaders nearly get bowled over by the waves was pretty funny, in the midst of the joyful sacred celebration!

The search for the right career path...

The past couple of years have been filled with me analyzing, reanalyzing, coming to decisions and then rethinking them, and in general running around in circles in the concept of what I want to do with my life. Here's some of my thoughts, and I really, genuinely would love input on them. After running in circles for a while I really can use a fresh perspective.

Here's what I know:
1. I want to be a mother at some point, and hopefully that's not too far away. When I'm a mom, I intend to be a stay-at-home mom at least during their younger years. I can see myself doing work on the side, but only something like...taking on some counseling clients independently or something.

2. It has to fit with Isaac's dreams and goals of being a teacher, because, you know, when you're married you sort of have to make things work together.

3. It has to be able to be done outside of the U.S, because we'd really like to be somewhere other than here.

...and that's about it. These are the two clear directions I've contemplated:

1. Counseling. Unfortunately, you can't just get into counseling. You have to have a degree. So... this means I need possibly two years of school, and then I can start being actually qualified for counseling jobs (probably not as a clinical counselor with an office and a couch.... ;)). I love people and working with them, my undergrad degree is in counseling and I got a lot of positive feedback that I was gifted in this field.

2. Literature. I grew up reading constantly - I got in trouble for it constantly and out-read everyone I knew. I love classic literature, literature criticism, book groups, writing about literature.... in general, I eat it up. It was my best subject in high school and yes, I admit that I still am proud of the 5 I got in AP English Literature. Thing is, I've always considered this a hobby, but in the past few years I've seriously considered teaching lit.

*sigh*. I go in circles. I pretty much had decided on option #1, but in the waiting period I doubt myself and wonder if a career that requires an MA is really necessary, and if I can't find another sort of "helping" career that doesn't require such specialization. Isaac asked me this past weekend if I can think of jobs that I would be qualified for now that I would potentially love. Here were my brainstormed thoughts.

1. Being a leader/lay counselor to mks (missionary kids). The summer I did this with Mukappa during college was seriously the most fulfilling thing I've ever done. Yes, it was like summer camp so there's a certain high that goes with the experience, but it was very, very clear to me that I LOVE working with those kids, I am passionate about the things they are going through, and I am qualified to speak into their lives. Problem with this idea - you have to raise support.

2. Dorm parent or Resident Supervisor of a dorm (college or high school or ... any age?). Again, this type of position takes advantage of both more organizational skills and my love of people and sorting through interpersonal problems. Problem with this idea: I haven't found any open positions like this in Dallas, it's the sort of job you have to move TO, and right now we're committed to Dallas for at least two more years while Isaac finishes up.

3. Youth worker. Not youth leader, I'm not an up front person, but I can take on a supporting role in a youth group, a youth-based non-profit, etc. Problem with this idea: many of these require you to raise support, and I haven't yet found a local position that open that pays, though I know they exist.

4. Case worker - for the city? For a refugee organization? With a non-profit? In any case, I've applied for a handful of these positions with no response. The city positions require degrees. In any case, I have kept my eye open for this type of position even while we still lived in Chicago. I need a foot in the door somehow - a contact within an organization that can recommend me.

This weekend I told Isaac that maybe my recent insistence on needing a degree is partly because of the situation I'm in now with having a good job for a good place but not within the type of thing that I feel like God has particularly gifted me for or called me to. I am afraid that I will get caught in this situation again unless I have high enough qualifications that I can sort of create a job for myself. Like, once you're a licensed counselor you can sort of counsel wherever you are, particularly overseas. I think the degree is a protection mechanism for me.

I don't know. Is that... smart? Isaac is now totally on board with the idea of me getting a degree, I guess I just question if my motivations are actually valid.

And... any thoughts on the career direction?

Oh, and I have a fantastic husband. I love how encouraging he's been of my search for purpose.

the invisible elderly

It was an interesting day on Tuesday - full of contrasts.

I got a flat tire on the way through Dallas to get to a work service project. A very nice Hispanic man honked at me on the highway until I understood he was trying to tell me my tire was going flat, and then he followed me off the exit and put on my spare for me. I'm SO thankful for his help because I'm an auto-idiot and didn't even know to say that the valve was leaking and that two nuts broke because they were improperly installed. I'm on the phone trying to describe it to Isaac like, "the big screws that hold the tire together broke, and the thing that sticks out in the middle... no, the on you put air into... it's broken too." :) "Valve" and "nuts" are now permanently burned into my memory. Several hours, a Starbucks coffee cake, and a repair check later, I finally got down to the work service project.

It is beautiful to see the value that my organization has on people and on meeting needs around us, not just overseas. We were cleaning and painting and fixing up a house that is shared by mentally handicapped folks. The joy and energy and gentle love exhibited by my friends and bosses was just... awesome. Seeing them work alongside the house residents was so much fun.

On the other hand, I was with a group of people that went to help out a block away at an apartment where one of the mentally handicapped guys lived. It was in what appears to be a low-income elderly housing high-rise, and it looked like the high rises of Cabrini in Chicago. It was.... so depressing to be in there. It was dirty and dark inside. I took to vacuuming and cleaning the filthy floors, and I found myself sweeping up multiple dead cockroaches with the dust bunnies and trash that had just been left laying around. Folks shuffled off the elevator and onto the chairs into the lobby, where they sat mostly in silence, staring out the windows. Multiple people asked multiple times if the mail had come in, and I realized a lot of them probably live for letters. I walked into their "kitchen" (which is old and empty) and found a lady looking helplessly at a vending machine that a package of peanut butter crackers that she'd just paid for was stuck in. I helped her get them and just felt the weight of her helplessness.

My friend whispered to me at one point what I was thinking in my mind, "I don't want to get old!". Thing is, I know a lot people that really make use of their age, and I think I'm okay with aging. I can see myself being someone that reads insatiably and lives simply and just enjoys the little things in life in my older years. What is striking, though, is that the "little things" often come in the form of family. I thought about how important it is for the elderly to be cared for by loving family, and what a tragedy it is that in our society, the elderly are invisible and sometimes scorned.

The people at this complex today seemed so, so lonely. Not only was it dirty and dark and depressing, it was evident that most of them were waiting. They were waiting for mail, for visits, for calls.... for their family and friends to reach out and show they cared.

I am passionate about refugees. Today really reminded that along with refugees, the elderly are another part of the society in the U.S. that really struggles and that the church is called to care for. That I am called to care for.

Pros and Cons of the choice to live in intentional community

**Update** We are now several months into this experiment of rooming with another married couple, and it's great. We keep a chore chart, have a weekly family meal, and in general it has been SO GOOD. Moving to Dallas was very lonely, and having people around really makes us feel more like we are at home here. It takes being very intentional to communicate with each other (as the introvert, that's probably my biggest challenge), to get time as individual couples (so far that's been easy), and keeping it clean for each other. All in all, it's been great - sorta feels like college again!

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A month or so ago I wrote to say that we were considering getting a three bedroom apartment with some friends. We now have our intent to lease signed and should be moving next month, and we're all excited.

What has been really interesting is to see the reactions that people give us when they hear what we're doing. People seem to think this is SO unique and different, and there the reactions split to either thinking we're crazy or thinking it's super cool and amazing. In fact, I'm starting to meet new people that have already heard about "those couples that are moving in together".... we're apparently becoming a legend!

The Pros:
1. Living in community. This is huge, and this is why my dearest friends are mostly excited about this, because my closest friends really, really highly value community and intentional relationships. It's been striking to me that the people I'm close to are all equally opinionated for this decision, and it says I must be very drawn to people who hold close relationships as a very high value. In any case, we really do find living in relationship with people very important, and especially in the West right now we tend to be very fragmented. Most of the time we are alone in a crowd, and truly knowing and being known by people is rare. Being able to share our lives with Asher and Steph and know them more is...a cool thing. We really think that although there will be things that will be hard about sharing space, ultimately we'll really learn from each other and grow through this experience.

2. It's cheaper to live with people. This is a very motivating factor for all four of us, since three of the four are in school and we all struggle to pay the bills. This is also one reason that a lot of people that think it's a little weird to move in with another couple still think this is a good idea - because everyone is looking for ways to cut costs right now because of the economy, and this is really seen as a creative, out-of-the-box idea. We will be saving $600 a month on rent alone between the two couples, and probably more because we'll buy some groceries in bulk and cut our utilities costs as well. If we manage to save a total of about $800/mo, than we'll end up saving $9,600 for the four of us, which is... awesome.

3. Social fun! This is a little different than community, but they are related. All four of us have struggled to build relationships here in Dallas, partly because you get so little TIME with people. This ... certainly provides time. :) We all love the idea of opening our space to our friends and having fun crazy social times... sort of a return to college life, almost. In this way I think this is the perfect time of life for this - none of us have kids yet, so we're really enjoying our time as young couples without a lot of commitments outside of work and school.

Cons (and my response to them)
1. Lack of privacy. Like I said, our society really really highly values privacy, so much so that most people are really shocked at the idea of living with another couple. We like to control our own space and don't like to have people infringe on it. To be quite frank, I dislike how extreme we've gotten in this - I find it pretty selfish. In most of the world, people don't have a choice and often both necessity and cultural values mean that most people live with extended family or friends, and it's not weird. So yes, I recognize that there's times when it'll be frustrating to share a kitchen or to have to work out the details of shopping and to not be able to come home to an empty house when I just want a quiet evening.... but I really hope that Isaac and I are mature enough to work around all of that and simply be able to live peacefully with other people. I just... think it's sort of basic. Yes, it will be inconvenient, but really... are we willing to sacrifice relationships for our own personal convenience? I hope not.

My brother and his wife already live with another couple (which also makes this less of a novel idea to me), and his response to this objection is that living with a couple that you're close to and care about is not so different then having grown kids around the house. Yes, you have less privacy than a newly-married couple does, but you value your kids enough to WANT them around, and your marriage adjusts accordingly. Yeah, we probably will avoid having fights in the living room, but we've all agreed to attempt to not infringe on each others' conflict. We've been married for nearly four years and they've been married for nearly three, so we're past those initial adjustments to marriage that you go through in your first couple of years.

2. Potential interpersonal conflict. This I also see as quite basic. It's the same as roommates in college - sometimes personalities clash or expectations aren't clear, and so there is conflict. This why I think that we shouldn't all just move in with anyone. We wouldn't even move in with some of our closest friends - sometimes personalities and lifestyles just don't fit. That's why I think we're lucky - Asher and Steph and Isaac and I get along really well, we hold the same things in value and really enjoy a lot of the same things (movies, theology, politics, friends, fun, and Lost.. lol). I feel like this is a uniquely good situation for sharing space... although of course that's easy to say before we move in! :) We are being very intentional about expectations and guidelines for the space and being open about our thoughts and feelings.

3. Potential sexual temptation. Ok, I have to admit that this didn't occur to me at all and I was surprised when this was the most vehement caution (and in one case, objection), by some people close to us. I have to take it seriously because it IS a possibility that all sorts of weirdness can happen when people live in close proximity and it is important to protect marriage. I guess I would caution people so that if you KNOW this would be difficult for you, don't do it. For Isaac and I, we intentionally check up on this area within our marriage already, and we're lucky to feel very, very comfortable communicating openly about it. We've also put guards of accountability around us within our church community group and also for Isaac in his guys small group at school. So - simply by acknowledging that you have to guard against temptation and by putting guards of accountability and modesty up, we move forward.

To those that actually object to moving in with people because of this reason, I first point back to scripture and say that Paul lived with Priscilla and Aquila, so clearly you can't just say, point blank, that living together is unwise. Again I say that through most of history and in most of the world, we don't have as much privacy as we have here today in the West. Being around other women and men in close quarters is normalized. That doesn't mean there are never problems, but lets face it, privacy doesn't do away with temptation either. The problem isn't proximity, it's the heart. I point to James 1:14-15 and say that temptation is really from within. "14 But each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire. 15 Then desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin." I recognize the importance of DEALING with this, but I don't think that this is truly an issue of living with people, it is an issue of the heart, and the heart finds its own opportunities.

Taxes in the U.S. compared to the world and U.S. history

I drew these comments and charts from Bruce Bartlett and two columns he wrote in Forbes. I thought they give helpful comparisons and informations about our taxes. Everything from here on out is quoted from Bartlett.

U.S. Taxes is 2006 compared internationally
http://www.forbes.com/2009/04/09/tea-party-taxes-opinions-columnists-bartlett.html

As Table 1 shows, total taxation (federal, state and local) amounted to 28% of the GDP in the U.S. in 2006. Only four of the 30 OECD countries had a lower tax ratio. Taxes averaged 35.9% for the OECD as a whole and 38% in Europe. Citizens of Denmark and Sweden paid very close to 50% of their total income in taxes.

Table 1: Total Taxes as a Share of GDP, 2006

Denmark	49.1	U.K.	37.1	Ireland	31.9
Sweden	49.1	Hungary	37.1	Greece	31.3
Belgium	44.5	Czech Rep.	36.9	Australia	30.6
France	44.2	N.Z.	36.7	Slovak Rep.	29.8
Norway	43.9	Spain	36.6	Switzerland	29.6
Finland	43.5	Luxembourg	35.9	U.S.	28.0
Italy	42.1	Portugal	35.7	Japan	27.9
Austria	41.7	Germany	35.6	Korea	26.8
Iceland	41.5	Poland	33.5	Turkey	24.5
Netherlands	39.3	Canada	33.3	Mexico	20.6

Source: OECD

There's a stronger case for the U.S. being a high tax country when looking at the top statutory tax rate on labor income. The OECD calculated the U.S. rate at 41.4% in 2007. As Table 2 shows, this put America right in the middle of the distribution despite a reduction in the top rate from 46.7% in 2000. The reason is that 19 OECD countries have reduced their top rate since 2000; only 3 have increased it.

Of course, the top rate applies only to those with very high incomes. According to the OECD, one would need to make almost 9 times the average worker's wage to pay the top rate in the U.S. In most OECD countries one hits the top rate at an income barely above that of the average worker, which puts workers in other countries in much higher tax brackets than those in the U.S.

U.S. Tax Rates through over the last 50 years.
http://www.forbes.com/2009/04/16/tax-tea-party-opinions-columnists-protest.html

To answer these questions, I looked at the effective federal income tax rate--taxes paid as a share of income--for a family with the median income. The median is the exact middle of the income distribution--half of families are above and half are below. It's as close as we can get, statistically, to the typical American family.

As the table shows, in 2007, the most recent year available, the median family paid 5.91% of its income to the federal government in the form of income taxes. This is half the tax rate paid in 1981 before the Reagan tax cut took effect. Although the 2007 rate is up very slightly from its 2003 low point, it is still well below the rate that prevailed from the 1950s through the 1990s.

Effective Tax Rate on the Median Family

Year	Rate	Year	Rate	Year	Rate	Year	Rate	Year	Rate
1958	6.96	1968	9.21	1978	11.07	1988	9.30	1998	7.98
1959	7.49	1969	9.92	1979	10.84	1989	9.36	1999	7.88
1960	7.77	1970	9.35	1980	11.42	1990	9.33	2000	8.02
1961	7.94	1971	9.27	1981	11.79	1991	9.30	2001	6.71
1962	8.30	1972	9.09	1982	11.06	1992	9.18	2002	6.53
1963	8.68	1973	9.45	1983	10.38	1993	9.18	2003	5.34
1964	7.56	1974	8.99	1984	10.25	1994	9.17	2004	5.38
1965	7.09	1975	9.62	1985	10.34	1995	9.28	2005	5.69
1966	7.48	1976	9.89	1986	10.48	1996	9.33	2006	5.85
1967	8.00	1977	10.42	1987	8.90	1997	9.32	2007	5.91

Source: Tax Policy Center

I don't have data for 2009, but it's a certainty that the median family tax rate is well below that which prevailed in 2007 if only because in February, Congress enacted a new tax credit that will reduce the median family's tax bill by $800 over last year.

Featured Flikr Photos - Spring Flowers!

Although other Featured Flikr Photo Posts are drawn from great photos from Flikr photographers that I am impressed by, these photos are my personal photos. No big stories here, I'm just SO GLAD IT'S SPRING!!

I love spring, the flowers, the warmth and green and rain and freshness to the world. Isaac likes it less, because he has terrible allergies for a solid month. That's ending now, maybe because of the two solid weeks of rain we've had.

In any case, these photos were taken everywhere - some were here in my neighborhood last spring, one is from Chicago last spring, and a couple are from Colorado two years ago.

Pros and Cons of Working from home

The roof blew off of part of my office complex over this past weekend. As a result, I am working from home. And yes, as of Tuesday when our work server went back up via a generator, we are all actually working.

What I love about working from home:

1. No commute. I could stay in my PJs if I wanted (but I don't). It means I can do my own thing all the way until 9, without interruption.
2. My own coffee, freshly brewed (right now - decaf Cafe Verona Starbucks, with a bit of cinnamon added in before brewing).
3. My own music, played loudly to give me energy. In the office when I need music I put in my headphones and my neighbor (over a cube, we talk to each other without seeing each other) always thinks I'm ignoring her when I can't hear her over the music.
4. Lunch. At home. Cooked on the stove, instead of the microwave.
5. In general, I feel more organized and able to focus at home. I'm sure most people aren't like that, but I am.

The inconveniences of working from home:

1. That couch looks awfully comfortable...
2. ...But maybe it only looks comfortable because our office chair is ruined, so I am sitting at a folding chair that eventually gives me a backache.
3. I can't go across the office and corner someone and make sure I get an immediate answer - people can hide from me more easily!
4. In this situation, I don't have full access to my files, which is of course an inconvenience. If I worked at home full-time, this wouldn't be the case.
5. Less accountability. Right now, this isn't a problem. I'm motivated and getting work done, and besides that people can still monitor my work via the project, emails, and calls that are going on. Still, I can see how this would be tough.

Works For Me Wednesday - Affordable Haircuts

** By the way, my last WFMW post talked about my discovery of a paper-back swap online that provides me new reading for about $3 a book. Or - hop on over to WeAreThatFamily for other frugality themed WFMW posts.

Two years ago I went almost a full year without cutting my hair. Mostly because... it would cost money. By the end of it, my hair was driving me crazy.

Thing is, hair looks so much better if it's cut regularly.

Hair looks so much better if it's cut to a fun style

And... if I have a good hair cut, I feel like my entire look is transformed, and I am more confident as a result.

I learned this a year ago, when I got my favorite cut ever. Unfortunately, it also cost me nearly $60. I know that's not a lot for most people, but it's a lot for me. In fact, it's unsustainable.

So - my dilemma. How do I continue to get my hair cut without breaking the bank?

Yes, I could go to Super Cuts or Great Clips. And sometimes I probably will. But for now, I'm trying something new.

Hair cutting schools.

My advice to those going to their first hair-cutting school appointment: know exactly what you want. Bring a picture, if you can. Tell your stylist when you're worried or displeased. My haircut was better the second time around because I asked for for specific details. Although the stylists should be trained in how to give you all of the latest hair cuts, they don't yet have the experience to know how to work with a ton of types of hair, so you can give them tips and advice.

So, without further ado: My Hair-Cutting School Experience

My first experience was somewhat terrifying. I came on Valentines Day and was shocked by just how insane the place was. It is a huge room JAM-PACKED with stylists and clients all rushing around - it felt like the salon equivalent of telephone call in center during a phone-a-thon. On top of that, half the stylists had received HUGE bouquets of flowers that were crowding into their tiny cutting stations.

The people came in all shapes and sizes, and the stylists tend to be artsy and their outfits and hairstyles and personas made for some great people watching... but not exactly a high confidence level. I did have to wait, and then was helped by a girl that looked like she was 18 (but is actually more like 24). Their hot water was broken, so every stylist was going to a totally separate department of the school to fill up buckets of hot water to dipper-wash our hair (!!!). The stylist tried to tell me this was an unusual situation, but that had to be a lie because I heard several other students talk about how often it had been going off, and exclaim that the worst was the day they'd run out of clean towels and had to dry off hair with paper towels (!!!).

The teacher came by right as my stylist was beginning the cut, and said, "Are you going to try the cut I taught you last week?" And she said yes. LAST WEEK? It did not inspire confidence. My cut was... good. It wasn't as good as my $60 cut and it took forever, but it was still good. It cost me under $15 with a tip. I did go back, and it was better the second time around, as I mentioned above.

Woah... my sponsored kid knows all about me?

That picture above? That's a photo of Remya, talking on the phone to her sponsor family in the USA. Read it here. She's wearing a dress that the "special gift" option that Compassion gives to their sponsors provided for her.

Sponsoring a child has become sort of cliche. You know - it's a cool thing to do, it shows you have a heart and you care about the world, or maybe you're just a sucker for the magazine and TV ads that show some kid in a slum with snot on his face and flies buzzing around.



Still - despite my natural cynicism, I became a fan of Compassion International at age 13, and I remain one. I have never heard anything negative about Compassion, which is incredible. They continue to get great official reviews for their financial stewardship, they continue to expand the areas where they work around the world, and they continue to expand their reach in ministries to moms, families, and job training on top of their usual sponsorship/schooling program.

Compassion also stole my idea and is using the blog world in an amazing way to bring real stories of their work straight to us. They recruit bloggers - popular ones - and have them go overseas and SEE the Compassion sites, meet the kids, visit their families and homes, and then connect individually with the kids they sponsor. Meanwhile, we're at home reading their stories on the same day they write them. And the photos are incredible. A team of Compassion bloggers just got home from India, and I went to school with one of them (Melissa Moore, Beth Moore's daughter), and follow the blog of another (Angie Smith, author of Bring the Rain). Their stories have been INCREDIBLE. You can see all of the bloggers and their posts here... it's been fascinating to follow.



While the poverty is heartbreaking, it doesn't surprise me. I get really excited when I read about the actual programs that Compassion has going in India.... particularly because my sponsored child is in India, so I feel like I'm seeing her world through these blogs.

(Photo of the home of one of the sponsored little girls, which the bloggers visited and wrote about)


What has really hit home the most for me personally as I followed the India blogs is that every time they visited a Compassion child and their family, the family knows all about their child's sponsor. Out of their meager belongings they pull out the letters they've received from their sponsor, sometimes years worth of letters. They are all kept and reread. Treasured. That hit home with me. I write my Moriyam, but usually just because I know I should, and I enjoy hearing from her. I usually am suspicious that she is being coerced by teachers to write some faceless sponsor in a far-off land that she doesn't particularly personally feel a connection to. These bloggers have written time and again that most likely not only Moriyam but her family know all about me, have the last 7 years worth of letters in safe-keeping, and have memorized my name and those of my family.

(Angie and her sponsored kids)


I'm totally motivated now to write much more personally - to tell her that I love her and pray for her, to encourage her to dream and work hard to achieve those dreams, to send a lot of lovin' and photos. AND... gifts. I've always skipped over the birthday or Christmas gift options, but the kids in the India trip blogs are proudly showing off their new shirt or dress or toy that was bought for them with the extra gift money that was given by their sponsor. That's cool. I want to provide Moriyam with a bright new pink dress like the one Remya is wearing in the photo at the top of this post.

To show what I mean... click to about 1:40 on this video, and see the little girl's response when they ask her if she has a sponsor:



It really hit home that I am not just giving my money - I am partnering with Compassion, I am part of the deal, part of how they speak into the lives of these kids.