tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65030753883658656962024-03-05T17:58:27.753-06:00The Well Thought-Out LifeI do not feel obliged to believe that the same God who has endowed us with sense, reason, and intellect has intended us to forego their use.
- GalileoKaciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06374573594800663980noreply@blogger.comBlogger15125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6503075388365865696.post-59593087095035479492014-10-26T05:24:00.000-05:002014-10-26T05:24:00.970-05:00The three things that make a "good foreigner"<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PA32dkwKiAc/VEzJ1SrZg-I/AAAAAAAAGEE/TTRwzm1NJGA/s1600/15137599115_79bcd8dfee_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PA32dkwKiAc/VEzJ1SrZg-I/AAAAAAAAGEE/TTRwzm1NJGA/s1600/15137599115_79bcd8dfee_o.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a>Someone I know went off recently about Westerners (mostly missionaries) who come to Indonesia, saying that he wishes many of them would just go home, with a caveat that there are a few who do good and who should indeed be here. He speaks from a unique perspective. His parents were missionaries, so he is technically from the West, but his heart is here, and he moved back to Indonesia, became an Indonesian citizen, and married an Indonesian woman. He has feet in both worlds. I often seek his advice because of his unique perspective. <br />
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I messaged him and asked him what, from his perspective, made the difference between those that he wished would go home and the "good ones". He said three things that I will summarize as I remember them.<br />
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1. Genuine relationships and involvement in the local community<br />
2. Generosity<br />
3. Morality/Integrity<br />
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This came up in my language school a couple of weeks back as well. We had completed an assignment that involved asking our Indonesian friends what the general perceptions of the community were towards various types of Westerners and their lifestyles. It unearthed some surprising resentments towards particular countries, but beyond that I was surprised to find that my friends responded to questions about the lifestyle of Westerners by saying that they really didn't care if the Westerners lived in nice houses or were wealthy. What mattered was what KIND of wealthy person they were. Were they building relationships locally? Were they generously giving to the neighborhood needs, above and beyond what the average citizen gives? Were they friendly? <br />
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When I reported these conversations in class my instructor became very serious and put aside his "Indonesian teacher" hat for a moment to give advice. He said that he wouldn't advise us to try to live in relative "poverty" in order to be like those around us. Like it or not, we will be seen as wealthy, no matter what type of house/car/motorcycle we choose to drive. Our heart and attitude matters much more. He gave an example from within the culture of two types of wealthy Indonesians. One who would drive through the neighborhood in his car and roll down the window and stop to talk to neighbors, and would give above and beyond at weddings/funerals and to those he employed. He would still shop from local shops instead of only at the big grocery store downtown, and would still eat at the roadside food stands instead of just at night restaurants. On the other hand, a man who came into wealth and so perceived himself as better than everyone else, putting a fence around his house to separate him from his neighbors and guard his stuff, and only eating and shopping far from his neighborhood - he is stuck up and unappreciated.<br />
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I told my instructor about the three points given to me above and he emphatically agreed and asked me to write them out and send them to him so that future students could benefit. I thought I'd post here as well. It's ironic to me that in the US before coming there was so much said about your vision and effectiveness, when it seems that perhaps the most core things are very simple things that (in my opinion) flow naturally out of the core principles of the life of a Christian. Love God, love others.<br />
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<br />
It does take reevaluating my life weekly to see if I am living this way, because as simple as it is, sheltering oneself, hiding away... that is actually all too easy. But learning to love and live deeply in a community - that is my goal. Kaciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06374573594800663980noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6503075388365865696.post-1399255978223651452014-10-17T04:16:00.000-05:002014-10-19T11:33:22.985-05:00Ridiculousness in the Discipline/Spanking Debate<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">A couple years back
<a href="http://wellthoughtoutlife.blogspot.com/2011/04/questioning-philosophy-behind-spanking.html">I posted about disciplining kids</a> and really struggling to figure out
what we should do, what I was okay with, and all that stuff. Well,
Judah is now three and a half, smack in the middle of testing
boundaries constantly, and.... have I moved ahead at all?
</span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">So here's the thing.
I would still love to not spank my children. There's enough research
on the topic that is negative and I have personal reservations about
how negative spanking can be when it's linked with anger. But then in
the middle of struggling to discipline in the face of direct
defiance, I have felt like... I just don't know what else to do! Kids
have to learn to obey and behave. And yeah, I know that they need to
run around and be crazy and that they get tired and hungry and
struggle to keep themselves in check. I know to get down at eye level
and speak to him lovingly and firmly. This, however, doesn't take
care of disobedience, at least not for us, at least not right now. So, I have spanked, though not often, because sometimes I just don't know what else to do. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">
<br />
</span><br />
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">I am nearly finished
with <u>Shepherding a Child's Heart</u>, the book that so many people in my
circles love and recommend. I mostly hate it. There is some good
stuff in there about communication and about the ultimate goal of
parenting being to point a child to glorify God and enjoy Him.
However, the thing that sets the book apart from other parenting
books is that it specifically endorses spanking, and I decidedly hate
the way they come to this decision. Essentially, they quote the
Proverbs about “the rod” and discipline, and say that all other
methods of discipline are insufficient, inconsistent, or punitive,
and children must be spanked because the Bible says so. They also say
that children should be spanked<i><b> every time</b></i> they do not obey quickly
and directly.
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">
<br />
</span><br />
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">Sorry folks, I just
disagree. The scripture speaks about discipline, with “the rod”
being a method of discipline of the day. The message is that parents
must shepherd and discipline their children, not that children must
be spanked. The book also has little in it of grace and there is a lot of
talk of children being out of the “circle of blessing” as soon as
they disobey in any way. There's no understanding of the constant
“twilight' of our souls in which we are being made new but always
still also dealing with our flesh. We are either in sin or in holiness and apparently
we must discipline our children out of sin and into holiness. </span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">So. Frustrating. I
ranted and raved about the book to Isaac nearly every day. </span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">In the midst of that
frustration I engaged a community of women on a Facebook group I'm
involved in. They are believers and fellow Moody alumni, and I know a
lot of they (us?) follow attachment parenting methods. When that was
being discussed, I threw in my questions about discipline. For those
who don't spank, help me understand what else you do? What are the
other options?
I put in a specific example, but most responses coming from the attachment parenting crowd seem to be about overall
theory. That doesn't do me much good. I need to know what you
specifically do in response to direct defiance from a child.
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span>
</div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">I've since been
pointed repeatedly to Laura Markham's website, and have read article
after article on there and you know what? I am at a loss. According
to her, time outs are no good. Spanking is no good. Parent-instituted
consequences are no good. So, as I said, what do you actually DO when
a child is disobedient and there isn't a natural consequence?? One page gave a play by play response and
this is what I come away with. Essentially you do everything you can
to avoid coming to that point of direct defiance (yes atmosphere,
offer the child win-win options, redirect, etc.) , but if you happen
to get to it, remove the child from the situation and talk it
through.
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span>
</div>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">
</span><br />
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">Which.... you
know.... I quite frankly do not believe that is a sufficient way to
address inappropriate behavior and defiance. That is the first thing
I do with my kiddo, and on occasion he is then able to resolve the
situation. Often, though, nothing changes in his actions or attitude
after being removed and speaking seriously together about that
situation.
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">Secondly and more importantly, Markham's
ultimate goal in discipline seems to be maintaining a positive
relationship with the child at all costs. Creating a strong
relationship means the kiddo will respond to gentle guidance instead
of needing ultimatums. Evaluate all responses based on whether they
strengthen or weaken your relationship. “Defiance is always a
relationship problem.” Gosh. There is no sense that the child might
sometimes have a heart problem and might make their own negative
choices and firmly stand in them. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">In the end, I am
equally frustrated by Laura Markham and what I have seen so far of
the attachment parenting ideology about discipline of
toddlers/preschoolers. On the <u>Shepherding a Child's Heart</u> side, the child is viewed as bad
and in need of redemption via spankings. On the other side the child
is viewed as good and simply in need of everything being nice and
that will be enough to “gently guide.”</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">I think there's a
theological problem in the realm of anthropology and hamartiology
here, and it drives some bad ideology about parenting and discipline.
There's a song I loved in college by Shaun Groves called “Twilight”
that played off the image of the “dawning day and dying night” in
the soul, “saint and sinner mingled in my veins.” You, me, my
kids, we are stunningly beautiful, precious beings that reflect a God
of grace, beauty, creativity, and love. And yet I know my own soul is
also “prone to wander” and that without discipline, whether it be
from the church, community, the scripture, or discipline that I myself
implement on my own heart …. I do damage.
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">
</span>
<br />
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br />And so, I
believe my children need love and relationship and discipline. As
their parents, we are responsible for that. What that
specifically looks like, I still am not sure. I just know I'm disappointed
by the extremes on both sides, and the way the evangelical world
sometimes buys into them. Anyone have any other favorite
resources/books about parenting? I'm in the middle of struggling with
it, and I find that reading keeps my thinking and being intentional
in how I respond to Judah in this stage.
</span></div>
</div>
</div>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">
</span>
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<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
Kaciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06374573594800663980noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6503075388365865696.post-1286006019588964882014-08-31T01:00:00.000-05:002014-09-05T03:23:12.642-05:00Privilege and Responsibility as an American OverseasPrivilege.<br />
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I am privileged. I grew up with it, and then I simply took it for granted. I knew my family had more money than our neighbors in their wood slat houses, more money than the ladies with small piles of fruit stacked in front of them at the pasar, more influence than those around me at church who could do nothing but pay the bribe, bow to the will of the police and military, and just live with injustice. For the most part our lives were the same. Eat. School. Sleep. Parents. Romance. Marriage. Kids. Sickness. But in so many ways that I simply took for granted because I was a child, I had privilege simply because of the family/nationality that I was born into.<br />
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Then I spent my adult years in the US, enriched by the fact that I knew what life was around the world. So, I was entirely okay with at times being "poor" compared to those around me. I picked up dropped coins in college, thankful for a little more to pay for a train ticket. I paid my way through college. We paid for seminary, lived in small apartments, drove old cars, and struggled to pay our medical bills. We shopped at Walmart and Aldis and Payless shoes and Goodwill. It wasn't always like that, but it was at times. <br />
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And now here I am across the world again, and instead of being poor, I not only know I am rich compared to the majority, the people around me know it too. There is no denying it. Based on where I come from (the USA), pretty much no matter what sector of society I come from in the US, I am wealthy here. It might take a good amount of money and effort to get here, but once here, I am wealthy even when I live on a very small US stipend. I have people who work for me to watch my kids and help keep the house. I could eat at the nicest restaurant in town without batting an eye. My "oh, I just got them at Payless" shoes are worth a week's wages for a laborer. <br />
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How do I live with that?? It weighs heavily on me and I find myself wanting to hide it. I am SO so thankful for the ladies that work for us that allow me to go to language school, but I feel guilty that someone else scrubs my bathroom floor. I can get most things at the local open air market but it is much easier and more comfortable to shop at SuperIndo where there is AC and carts and everything in packages. It's more expensive.... but we can easily afford it because it's still way cheaper than US prices. Do you do what you can afford? We have been living in a house without a shower, oven, or dryer, so we are living differently than most of the Westerners. But you know what, my friend lives with six people in a house with a dirt floor and a mat on the floor for living room furniture. Oh right. Perspective. <br />
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I sit in school and I recognize that my instructors are young women my age, with kids my age, and I see us as equals. They worked hard, they have a profession, they are doing well at their jobs and are blessing others. And yet when we talk about where to eat, shop, and relax, I realize that they are giving tips for the wealthy Westerners, and they live a different life. I am wealthy.What? <br />
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It's hard. Hah, did you hear that? It's hard? Ridiculous. Poor wealthy American girl, has a hard time knowing what to do with her privilege.<br />
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As I struggle to know what to do, I can't take a queue from the Westerners around me. They may be wrong. The wealthy measure themselves by the standard of other wealthy folks, and it's too easy to simply continue on as you were. I also sometimes want to hide my wealth, to pretend that I don't have this privilege, because I am not comfortable with it.<br />
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Instead I am going to open my Bible this year and read it differently. I'm going to read the many, many passages about money, wealth, and possessions and realize that I am the one that those passages are written for, and that I better sit up and listen and obey. Jen Hatmaker wrote something recently on her blog that was helpful.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Two things I want you to get rid of as soon as you can: first, that
guilt. Really. You were born into privilege. You didn’t pick that, earn
it, or deserve it – this is simply your lot in God’s sovereignty. <b>The
sooner you can quit lamenting your advantages and your distribution of
them, the better. God is not engineering a Guilt Trip.</b> Just go ahead
and knock that off. He is giving you eyes to see a little better and
ears to hear a little clearer, and you wringing your hands and mourning
lost years is not helping. You did the best you could with what you
knew. Now God is just giving you more to know, so off you go. <b>Don’t be guilty; be grateful, be generous, be brave. </b></blockquote>
That's what I want to remember. Guilt doesn't help anyone. Instead, now that I realize what I have been given, what do I do with it? How do I use what I have been given for good and for God's glory? It's not about me and what people think of me and how I feel.... it should be about obedience and love.<br />
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And so... I am reading and praying with new eyes. Kaciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06374573594800663980noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6503075388365865696.post-12286910946481474102014-08-19T05:13:00.000-05:002014-08-19T05:13:00.413-05:00Living in the Village<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H13ZaeGTM1s/U_B_jgo1_qI/AAAAAAAAF3w/I7QscnkXw5k/s1600/10547398_711445027939_1406170521181205511_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H13ZaeGTM1s/U_B_jgo1_qI/AAAAAAAAF3w/I7QscnkXw5k/s1600/10547398_711445027939_1406170521181205511_o.jpg" height="175" width="400" /></a></div>
There was a blog post that went viral among my mommy friends over the past few months titled, "<a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/bunmi-laditan/i-miss-the-village_b_5585677.html">I Miss the Village</a>." The fact that it went viral just highlights the isolation that mommas in suburban America feel. I felt it too. <br />
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It's different here, so strikingly different. I'm IN the village everyone is dreaming about. Since I'm here, let me just say that I'm not sure you could hack it, Western mamas, if you were given the chance to create "the village" over there. You'd have to make major adjustments... to things that you value. Consider, what's more important to you? "The village", or your independence, the privacy of your family, your extra-curricular activities, and the security of your children? <br />
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It's so incredible in some ways, being here. I came home from the store with Elly in her wrap and the neighbor told me next time to just drop Elly off at their house while I go to the store. At the corner is another sweet lady who calls herself Elly's grandma and anytime I walk by she takes Elly and tells me to go work on homework... so I do. 30 minutes of free babysitting! The neighborhood kids all gather in little packs after school and can be found playing games or just hanging out in random corners of the neighborhood. The little ones are looked after by the big kids, and every local parent knows all of the other kids and is responsible for any needs that pop up when the kids are in their front yard. When I go to the store the employees take Elly and watch her while I shop. Hands free shopping! When we eat out for Sunday lunch, the family next to our table for the last two weeks has noticed that my attempts at eating while holding a wiggly infant are less than successful, and have taken her until I'm done. Judah wanders to the field beside the restaurant with other kids and plays while the adults eat. <br />
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It's not just with kids, either. We live in a small town but it's still the "village" in the sense of a small local community. Things are very local here, both as a culture and as a governmental policy. Our neighborhood, maybe 40 houses, has a head guy that we reported to when we got here. The neighborhood plans holiday festivities, greets new members, divides up neighborhood watch duties, and attends to important neighborhood issues. It's as if your neighborhood association was actually the city council. At our first community meeting we introduced ourselves so that everyone would know who we were, where we live, where we came from, etc. If we are out of town for a couple of days or have someone staying with us, we let the community leader know. If someone dies, it's announced from the local mosque loudspeaker and immediately (as in like, within hours), the corpse is laid out in the home and the entire community gathers and sits with them, joins in mourning, and pays into the funeral expenses. On Friday everyone goes to mosque together. We've been here two months and we know half the neighborhood and gather with them for at least three official neighborhood meetings each month. In the US I would have probably just met the people next door. <br />
<br />
So here's the thing. To get the village, you give up other things. You give up privacy. For neighbors to know each other, you can't have soundproof walls and gates and cars so that you pretty much get from your bedroom to the cubicle without speaking to anyone except perhaps someone at the Starbucks drive-through. Here, neighbors may well know when our kid is throwing a fit, what we generally cook, if we've had a fight, when bath time and bedtime is, recent purchases, when we go on vacation, etc. There's no keeping your house messy and no one knowing it, there's no having a pantry full of overpriced luxury goods or crappy dollar store brand but no one knowing it. In the West we idealize the community support but then we really like to go home, get away from people, lock the front door, and know that we can squabble, discipline, and have a private family routine that is away from everyone else. The more private you are, the less you live in the village. Which do you want?<br />
<br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-W5jHtPa46Wc/U_B_e0rktLI/AAAAAAAAF3o/jmJVp02WCJU/s1600/1555477_716644902349_7555992039205726858_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-W5jHtPa46Wc/U_B_e0rktLI/AAAAAAAAF3o/jmJVp02WCJU/s1600/1555477_716644902349_7555992039205726858_n.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a>It's kind of ironic actually because at the same time as the "I Miss the Village" blog was going viral, another blog was as well, about how moms feel constantly judged by each other and calling for an end to mommy wars. Here's the thing. If you really want the village, you're going to have to give up the desire to avoid critique. If other people get to help parent your child, they also get a say in how it should be done. Here I have received constant advice on how to dress my child, what to feed them, when to bathe them, school, play activities, safety guidelines, medical advice, etc, etc. It can totally make me feel judged and like I don't know the best thing for my kiddos. Guess what. I may actually not know the best thing, and if I want to parent in the communal village, I best get over it.<br />
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<br />
Then there's independence. We like our cars because .. well... we don't know how to live without them. With them we get to the store, to church, to school. It gives us the freedom to get where we want to go, right? That way we can do all the extra curricular stuff we like to do. Sports. Church events. Art classes. Library time. Etc, etc. And then you can swing by your favorite store, drive to church on Sunday, and eat out at your family's favorite restaurant afterwards. Except, you know what almost every single one of the those activities do? Takes you away from the neighborhood. What if you used your car only to go to work? What if you only chose extra curricular activities you could walk to, ate only at restaurants within a mile of your house, shopped only at the closest grocery stores, and went to the church around the corner instead of across town? Could you do it? You have to give up the ability to choose your favorite things if you really intend to foster "the village". Church in the US attempts to recreate its own village through a host of community-building activities, but the down-side of that is that they are only attended by church people rather than people around you of all stripes, including different religions, ages, and socio-economic status. <br />
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It's the same thing with people. It's true that in the US we've lost some of the village, but the benefit is that you pick your people. You decide which groups your or your kid are in, but if you are limited to your neighborhood then, well, what if the guy next door is weird and the mom across the street is controlling and the kid on the corner is a bully? Are you still willing to live in that village? It'd be great to have others helping to raise your kid, but you also are giving all of those people your trust to guard your children and be an influence in their lives. <br />
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In the end, I'll take the village. I just think that the Western world needs to weigh their values and understand what they have to begin setting aside if they really want to foster that "village". <br />
<br />
<br />Kaciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06374573594800663980noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6503075388365865696.post-73767623364441377952014-08-15T02:21:00.003-05:002014-08-15T02:21:23.342-05:00On Being Home<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-01nobUdUEdA/U-2ulGlufZI/AAAAAAAAF2c/J9oPgMWPmN0/s1600/P1130156.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-01nobUdUEdA/U-2ulGlufZI/AAAAAAAAF2c/J9oPgMWPmN0/s1600/P1130156.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a>Today in Indonesian class we did mock conversations about how feel about living here. I used a phrase I have been using with my neighbors. I may not be Indonesian, but in a way, this is my "tanah air", my "land and water", my place.<br />
<br />
It's so surreal and so normal to be here. At the same time. Does that make sense? This afternoon Judah and Isaac hoped on our (new to us!) motorcycle and got groceries at the store. After dinner the local drum group paraded in front of our house practicing for Idul Fitru (which they also do at 2:30 in the morning every morning to wake people up for breakfast before the sun rises and fasting begins again). I just took a dipper bath surrounded by the noise of rain pouring down around me just feet away from my on-the-porch bathroom.<br />
<br />
I can't believe I'm here, living this life.<br />
<br />
There are cycles to culture shock, and I am through the first sense of disorientation. I recognize that I am probably in a honeymoon stage, where everything is new and fun and adventurous and seen through rose-colored glasses. It's hard to know what is just the honeymoon stage and what is really me feeling... at home.<br />
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Lots of people asked me if this would be like going home and I always hesitated and didn't know how to answer. The truth is that I have considered Indonesia home, but I have been afraid to claim that, because after 13 years away and returning as an adult with a family, I knew it would be different. I knew it could feel so lonely, much more difficult like in many ways, and perhaps just... not home?<br />
<br />
So, with the caveat that I am speaking out of the honeymoon stage, I'll go ahead and say that right now, at the beginning, this feels not just like a cool adventure, but like.... home. Other friends are experiencing culture shock, loneliness, isolation, discouragement. I absolutely relate to all of it.... because it's exactly how I felt when I moved to Dallas.<br />
<br />
I catch my breath constantly and marvel at the smallest things. I made cups of Sari Wangi extra-sugared tea for Isaac and his language tutor and looked down and thought... this is my life, my adult life. This thing from my childhood, Sari Wangi and hot too-sweet tea, is now just the acceptable hospitality practice for guests in my house.<br />
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I walk in our neighborhoods and nearly gasp when I pause, draw in a breath and smell that scent of flowers, tropical-greenery-decomposing, and neighborhood trash being burned. That smell has lingered with me for years from my high school afternoon walks, I have longed for it, and here it is, HERE IT IS!<br />
<br />
To sit with my kids on my porch, surrounded by our neighbor kids as they play? It's just what I did as a kid. To have our babysitter sing to my daughter, "Satu-satu, aku sayang Ibu", just as I sang as a kid? To drive a motorcycle again, to marvel at how good basic Indonesian fried noodles and chicken soup really are.... it's all surreal. In between the daily life and raising kids and the fact that this is real adult life with responsibilities... it feels like a dream come true. <br />
<br />
I usually shrink from a challenge but I am plowing into language school with great motivation. I delight in wrapping my mouth around words like "ngomong-ngomong", with those long unused "ng" and rolled r's just flowing off my tongue in familiarity. I want to KNOW this language, not just like I did as a kid, informally and with bad grammar. I want it to be a part of me. It's what is amazing about all of this, actually. Yes, it was my home as a child, but as the years stretched on, childhood grew further and further away. To have this place that I love as a part of my adult life too... it feels like it is legitimizing it. It really is my place. It really is the culture I know, the language I speak. It was.... and it is now.<br />
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I am not Indonesian. Indonesian is not my first language. This is not my own culture (though neither is America). I know I'm still a foreigner here<br />
<br />
. But... it feels like home. And the beauty of that is that it gives me an even greater love for this place and people and desire to pour my life and heart into these people and what God is doing here. Kaciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06374573594800663980noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6503075388365865696.post-8998344305104836412014-08-11T00:47:00.003-05:002014-08-11T00:47:49.702-05:00On Living WithoutWe live without a number of amenities here. We don't have an oven, we don't have a dryer, we don't have a sink in the house, we have a dipper bath instead of a shower, we don't have a car, top sheets, or comforters. <br />
<br />
Here's the thing. All of those things are available here. Some of them are expensive. Some of them just aren't normally used by Indonesians.<br />
<br />
It's a decision we have to make. The power of the dollar here is huge, so we can afford any of those amenities. Do we have the right to spend on them? Which things do we want to have to continue to live the way we are used to, and in which areas do we learn to live like Indonesians? It's okay to live differently, we are from a different culture after all, but we also want to be a part of this culture. <br />
<br />
We've made a few decisions so far. We bought used motorcycles, but only after being here a month and a half. Although it was really inconvenient to be limited to walking and taking public transportation (in the hot sun, with taxis shutting down in the late afternoon), we knew it would force us to walk through our neighborhood, talk to people, be local, and also get to know traffic patterns before getting on the road. We also bought a microwave, which was probably a lame decision, because as it turns out the convenience we wanted is cancelled out by the fact that using it usually maxes out our electricity and trips our breaker, and we have to go outside and reset it to get the lights and fans back on.<br />
<br />
It's really normal to have a shower with a gas heater now, we can get top sheets made and we could buy a dryer. Some of those things we might do eventually, but if we did it all now we'd never learn to live a different way. If there's one thing I've learned over the last few years, it's that we have a remarkable capacity to adjust to situations that feel untenable at first. After two months, warming up a little water on the stove so that I can have a warm dipper bath is pretty normal - who needs a shower?<br />
<br />
It's like that with food too. I can buy most things here, actually. No feta, but mozzarella, parmesan, and cheddar. I can buy wheat bread, tortillas, and packets of taco seasoning. They're also ridiculously expensive by local standards. As in, a small block of cheese is a day's wages. So, in the US dollar that's actually about the same as buying a block at Walmart, so we can buy it. But do we? We live here now, we need to adjust. And so I am making my own diced tomatoes, cans of beans, peanut butter, yogurt, syrup, teething biscuits for Elly, and the list goes on. I'm adjusting. We will always eat some Western style food, but we are learning to eat a lot more rice, eggs, and stir-fry.<br />
Kaciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06374573594800663980noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6503075388365865696.post-33514672506586341192014-04-30T17:13:00.003-05:002014-04-30T17:13:53.137-05:00On Noah and the desperation of selfLast week Isaac and I were perhaps the most relieved we ever have been to get away from our kiddos and go on a date. We got in the car, shut the doors, and just sat for a moment. We had a gifted date night at the kind of theater with easy chairs, blankets, and dinner served at your seat. It was so, so good.<br />
<br />
We watched Noah. Now, I don't have any desire to jump into the fray debating the movie, but I will say that I have no problem with story, even when it isn't a literal interpretation of the biblical text. I liked the movie, even if I am about as ambivalent about the rock monsters as I was about Peter Jackson's depiction of the Ents.<br />
<br />
I got teary, though, and that I didn't expect. I got emotional because <i>Noah</i> dug into a theme that has been hitting home the past few weeks since I read Larry Crabb's book <u>Men and Women: Enjoying the Difference.</u>
What I loved about the book is that the entire first half of it hardly
mentioned marriage or gender roles (second half - meh). Crabb dug into
what he sees as the real relational problem - human individual
selfishness.The movie Noah portrays this broken, bleeding land that has been filled with evil, terrible things. A cracked and hopeless world. We see, through Noah's eyes, the ark as a new beginning for all things, and for their family.<br />
<br />
Then there is a turning point in the movie, partly through Noah visiting the human camp nearby and sees their horrors, rape, pillage and the carnage we can wreck on each other.... but he sees himself in it too. He comes back to the ark with a new conviction that no - humans can't begin again after the flood. The ruination of all things good has come through man, and if God provides a cleansing of the world but Noah and his family survive, the seed of all of that brokenness will be sown in the new world through them and it will just be a vicious cycle. Noah is haunted by this conviction. If God gave him the sacred task of bringing life into this new world, he cannot, cannot, bring death. <br />
<br />
Noah says: <br />
<i> We broke the world. We did this. Everything that was
good was shattered. This time there will be no men. If we were to
enter the garden, we would only ruin it again. Mankind must end. </i><br />
<br />
Thing is, if you believe the biblical account, Noah is
right. It does begin again. The cleansing of the world simply begins the
cycle again because humanity immediately perpetuates all darkness over
again.<br />
<br />
Back to Crabb's book. Crabb is a counselor and in his other works he digs deep into human suffering. I resonate with it because it's what I am at heart too - a counselor. We all suffer, and so we feel the weight of brokenness and suffering in our lives. No one else experiences our suffering fully except us. And, because of our suffering, we see our selfishness as at least understandable, if not legitimate. If I snap at Isaac after a long day with kiddos, I think.. well.. yeah, snapping is not best. But it is understandable because I am busy, stressed, and tired. When we grapple with our mistakes, we often investigate <b>why</b> we've made those mistakes. We identify the <b>external</b> problems. In the example I just gave, the problems in my life are my stage of life, my full plate, my lack of sleep. And all my friends nod because they relate, and through my eyes it is understandable. <br />
<br />
But you know what? The fundamental problem is not any of those things. It is me. My heart. My selfishness. As I read the book I could look back and recognize easily that my own self-concern colors just about every interaction I have. <br />
<br />
And the tragedy is that I know it. I simply believe it's normal. We all see life through our own eyes. My selfishness is recognized and shrugged at. I think it's justified. I do not weep over my sin. I don't see that it is this vicious cycle, each of us seeing our own
selfishness as justified and normal and so ongoing relational intimacy
and growth is impossible because it requires selflessness. <br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"More often we regard our bitterness not as the
product of a flaw within us, but as the interplay between our delicate
sensitivities and other people's failures. We think others should be
rebuked while our damaged souls receive healing. Why is it so hard to
see that self-interest, even when offended, is wrong." </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"Careful inspection of ourselves,
particularly when we're angry, makes it clear that we suffer from a
defect more severe than self-centeredness. The greatest obstacle to
building truly good relationships is justified self-centeredness, a
selfishness that, deep in our souls, feels entirely reasonable and
therefore acceptable in light of how we've been treated....The
problem with all of us is that we stubbornly regard our interpersonal
failures not as inexcusably selfish choices, but as understandable
mistakes. <br />
<br />
"We view the wound in our souls
as responsible for problems like jealousy, making pain a more basic
concern than sin. Think how naturally we explain our impatience with the
kids as the product of a frustrating day at work and how easily we
regard their impatience as an expression of selfishness worthy of
discipline. What an incredible double standard."</blockquote>
I am not one likely to harp on total depravity or happily reside in the Reformed camp. As a goodie two shoes as a child, I am not one to carry around a load of guilt. I struggle more with pride. That's the thing, though. Somehow Crabb's book made we mourn the selfishness in my heart that breaks the relationships around me, without me ever taking it seriously. <br />
<br />
It's echoed in Tubal Cain's words in Noah. He's a man presiding over such evil, but he looks at it and blames external problems and uses them to legitimize his own anger and continued ruin, "We are abandoned, orphan children, cursed, damned to live
by the sweat of our brow. Damned if I don’t take what I want."<br />
<br />
Tubal Cain sees all the brokenness as simply the effect of the things done unto man. Noah sees all the brokenness coming from man, and knows that if there is to be hope, it must stop. Noah's wife looks at her family and sees only good. Noah sees that even in their beauty, there is lust, covetousness, etc. The move digs into both things - the inherent sanctity and beauty and love in mankind and in the world, but also the pervasive sin and brokenness. <br />
<br />
When Noah's wife asks him why, in the end, he decides to allow human life to go on, he says that he looked at them and all he felt was love. Though the movie portrays God as silent, I see that line as an echo of our God. If you believe the biblical account, He sees all things broken by us, and still when he looks as us, all he sees is love. He has a world that demands cleansing, and yet He must save.<br />
<br />
The Genesis flood is a symbol of baptism. The anniversary of my own baptism was this past week on Easter Sunday, and with the conviction of my own selfishness heavy on my mind, I pondered again what this means. I was teary during Noah because I saw in his depiction some of this desperation and need to be free of myself. Where the flood left the problem of the sinfulness of man unsolved, on the cross, that is where the work is finished.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="text Eph-2-4" id="en-ESV-29217">But<sup> </sup>God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us,</span> <span class="text Eph-2-5" id="en-ESV-29218">even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved.</span></blockquote>
<br />
Kaciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06374573594800663980noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6503075388365865696.post-38136558845164343922014-04-13T18:52:00.001-05:002014-04-17T21:08:06.341-05:0050 Things I've Learned While Living In Dallas<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-G3-yXLRRZr4/U0sh4pD8RCI/AAAAAAAAFp0/w4rSzlkLJlI/s1600/chick+fil+a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-G3-yXLRRZr4/U0sh4pD8RCI/AAAAAAAAFp0/w4rSzlkLJlI/s1600/chick+fil+a.jpg" height="191" width="200" /></a>1. I like living in the country<br />
2. Chick-fil-a is the best-run fast food restaurant I've ever been too.<br />
3. I thoroughly enjoy administrative and organizational jobs<br />
4. You can live small after having children.<br />
5. I like green ice cream. Green tea. Pistachio. My favs. <br />
6. Pick a mechanic you trust and then always, always take your car only to him. <br />
7. If you don't know how to fix cars, don't buy a really old used car. <br />
8. Austin rocks. Best city in Texas.<br />
9. You can find community in a big church.<br />
10. Don't bother insuring a very old car outside of the minimum required. Not worth it.<br />
11. There are communities of refugees in most American cities. You just have to find them.<br />
12. Dallas is not a good city in which to have to rely on public transportation, unless you work downtown.<br />
13. Blue Bell ice cream is the best ice cream... ever.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7KArmTJLOTI/U0sgxeWr-JI/AAAAAAAAFpo/53-Nh99FnDQ/s1600/blue+bell+ice+crea.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7KArmTJLOTI/U0sgxeWr-JI/AAAAAAAAFpo/53-Nh99FnDQ/s1600/blue+bell+ice+crea.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a>14. How to pay for a baby: Save up all of your deductible, no matter how high, and then a couple extra thousand.<br />
15. In fact, when comparing salaries for possible jobs, subtract your deductible, because it's very possible you'll pay it out every year.<br />
16. Mediterranean food is the most vege packed and delicious type of cuisine that Isaac and I can agree on.<br />
17. It pays to stick it through the hard stages at a job. You may end up loving it... and there's more upward mobility than you realize.<br />
18. Suffering and difficulty is normative. I should not be surprised by or resentful of it.<br />
19. If you get in a wreck, always have your car towed to the mechanic you trust, not to the closest spot.<br />
20. Never go to the emergency room unless you are dying. <br />
21. On a high deductible plan, even standard doctors visits and regular immunizations are expensive. <br />
22. The teens of wealthy families are just as broken, if not more, than those of the poor. <br />
23. An authentic community takes time, sacrifice, commitment, and work. It's worth it.<br />
24. Marriages can go from functioning well to disaster very quickly. PS - not speaking of my own marriage! <br />
25. People change. It's incredible to watch. But then, some people don't change. <br />
26. Vietnamese food rocks. Tip - everyone loves pho, but a grilled pork bahn mi is the real winner. <br />
27. Mums are the most ridiculous high school prom tradition ever.<br />
28. Turning 30 isn't bad at all.<br />
29. I love and resonate with Philip Yancey, Larry Crabb, and Tim Keller.<br />
30. Suffering is normative. The key is how we respond to the suffering we all encounter.<br />
31. The evangelical world is still pretty uncomfortable with working moms and stay-at-home dads.<br />
32. Having kids changes a marriage.<br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vuJScrJ2r-M/U0siGA8_xbI/AAAAAAAAFp4/grmvI5ctU30/s1600/Tacos-de-Barbacoa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vuJScrJ2r-M/U0siGA8_xbI/AAAAAAAAFp4/grmvI5ctU30/s1600/Tacos-de-Barbacoa.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a>33. Dallas is a city of suburbs, which sucks at first glance. In the middle of the burbs and strip malls are communities from around the world. You just have to look.<br />
34. Tacos are not what you grew up with at Taco Bell. Tacos for breakfast, tacos with lime and onion and cilantro, tacos with all sorts of hipster toppings... tacos are where it's at. <br />
35. It is not impolite in Dallas to bluntly ask people for funding and to ask them again... and again.<br />
36. Green tea leaves are best on the second and third brewing.<br />
37. Most things I worry about in my kids are stages. It will pass.<br />
38. In every stage, engage with the struggles your kid is having.<br />
39. If you are uncomfortable with something, it is YOUR responsibility to engage it towards change. You cannot wait and hope for others to realize your discomfort and come to you about it. This is true in work, marriage, and community.<br />
40. Lots of people actually are very interested in faith and would <b>like</b> to discuss it. <br />
41.Always call your insurance immediately after being in a wreck and before leaving the scene. Do not assume the other person will own responsibility, even if they say they will.<br />
42. Pay the ticket. It's more expensive to pay for going to court to fight a ticket than it is just to pay it.<br />
43. Texas has no income tax. This is amazing and wonderful and genius.<br />
44. Birth is hard, yes, but recovery from birth is longer and messy and sometimes equally traumatic<br />
45. Be daring. Sometimes you might regret it, but sometimes you might love it (like when I chopped off all my hair and got a pixie cut)<br />
46. Cynicism may be cool, but it doesn't help the problems.<br />
47. My role in this life, my vocation, my calling, is to participate with the rest of the Church in God's mission in the world, calling all things back to Himself.<br />
48. Urgent care centers like Carenow are probably the way to go when uninsured or on a high deductible plan. <br />
49. Teenagers are just as cutting to adults as they are to each other. Be the adult and don't take it personally.<br />
50. Yes, people really do care that much about their guns.<br />
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<br />Kaciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06374573594800663980noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6503075388365865696.post-10888417043891377192014-04-07T22:04:00.003-05:002014-04-07T22:04:47.425-05:00On the impersonal nature of charitable giving in the USA<br />
I really struggle with the way we give in the USA.<br />
<br />
We give a lot. Statistically, we are a very charitable country, and that's great. We give to a lot of things. We provide tax write-offs to continue to build a culture of philanthropy. That's great. But...<br />
<br />
It struck me over Christmas. There were all these commercials and blogs and feel-good stories about people giving instead of getting, and we all have our hearts warmed by the ability to do something special for really needy people. But... I also felt a little cynical. There were some needs I knew of this Christmas that were really personal and I thought how much those on the receiving end were grateful for the gift, but would much rather simply have not needed it. The giving can feel a little like taking advantage of hardship in order to get a one-time feel-good high without managing to make a long-term difference. <br />
<br />
It struck me in Chicago. I remember people from my company going to host an event at an orphanage. Externally it was such a good thing. We put on activities for the kids, it really sweet, and it's really great that instead of just hoarding corporate profits, this money was being spent on kids in need, right?<br />
<br />
And yet. How much was for the good of those kids and how much was actually so that WE could get the warm fuzzies of a beautiful party and delighted children and pat ourselves on the back for doing a good thing, and then never see those kids again. Did they actually benefit from our fancy party? Or did it just increase the distance between us and them? Why is so much of our giving to the poor so impersonal?<br />
<br />
A study I did recently was emphasizing thankfulness over discontentment. The action point was to go and serve someplace with people in true need, like a soup kitchen, and then to spend some time really pondering those people and your life. The intent obviously being that you come away struck with how much you really have and how petty your discontentment is. True, you might. But in the process you increase the distance between them, the really broken, the really needy, and you, who are in contrast really fine. Us. Them.<br />
<br />
Our church did this thing where everyone was given a small amount of cash and challenged to consider how God would have them use it. Awesome. I was struck, though, in reading through the stories of how the money was used, that the vast majority of people gave their money to a big charity. This tells me that most people don't know of a personal need that they could meet, so their best bet is to give to a charity that has great marketing and gives their donors warm fuzzies. The fact that we buy houses in neighborhoods with people all like us means we isolate ourselves from being in close relationship to greater need and brokenness.... or just plain diversity. <br />
<br />
I worked with refugees in Dallas until we moved up to McKinney. It was wonderful. But it was amazing to see how much we want to give... clothes... food.... gifts... money. But not really personal relationships. That's too hard. We want to GIVE. Not get involved personally. And yet at a symposium of all the organizations working with refugees in DFW, a panel of refugees that have been here for a long time now said that what is truly needed in the refugee community is just friendship. Long-term, invested friendship. <br />
<br />
We had someone we talked to this year tell us that they have decided not to give to anything they don't know about personally because only when they really know the people are they able to engage emotionally and really be "cheerful givers". Well, there's that. But it could also be that your giving is really for yourself, so that you feel good, rather than simply in obedience. <br />
<br />
Jen Hatmaker hit it on the nose when she spoke at the IF:Gathering and talked about being totally convicted by the needs in the world and thinking that my word, they were going to have to move to Africa if they were really going to obey God's call to go to the least of these. And through all of that angst, they had a widower next door to them who was totally dysfunctional and thus the butt of neighborhood jokes. The needs next door are sometimes invisible to us, because sometimes really giving is slow, daily work that involves friendship and time and isn't particularly gratifying.<br />
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There was some time during our life here in Dallas when we couldn't pay our bills and were reeling from car repairs and baby bills, and realizing our own need was really convicting. People gave to us, and that was SO humbling and beautiful. But. You know what the best and most empowering gifts were that year? A man I know in Wichita contacted me with advice about car insurance. I got a promotion at work. Some people online gave me guidance about handling medical bills and paying out over time.<br />
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None of that feels like "giving", but they met more needs than one-time gifts could, lasted over time, and gave me the ability to handle our finances and life with confidence and personal investment instead of just passively receiving. If you teach a man to fish...<br />
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Sure, if we give to, say, a program that provides gifts for children of single parents, that's great. But if you're a single parent family, you will be more powerfully spoken to if people that you KNOW are talking to you, helping you, and celebrating with on the holidays. Relationship. <br />
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I'm not saying that giving is bad. Far from it. I am saying, though, that we need to think hard about whether we are giving for ourselves, or if we are giving out of obedience to God. I am saying that we need to think about a lifestyle of giving that combines love, relationship, and finances, rather than giving impersonally. I am saying that we should be so involved in our community that we know the needs and are meeting them.... in whatever way we can. <br />
<br />Kaciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06374573594800663980noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6503075388365865696.post-88725698690535851542014-04-04T15:51:00.000-05:002014-04-04T15:51:02.050-05:00Things I Will MissOff the top of my head, with full awareness that this list will change.<br />
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- Spring (in Dallas)<br />
- Fall (in Chicago - already miss it!)<br />
- Blue Bell ice cream<br />
- Yelp<br />
- Fast internet<br />
- amazon.com with prime free 2-day shipping<br />
- biking and walking trails<br />
- church in my native language<br />
- cheese and yogurt, especially Cabot sharp white cheddar <br />
- NPR<br />
- Chick-fil-a (with play places!)<br />
- small group community with a shared value on authenticity<br />
- CareNow<br />
- Mediterranean, Indian, Thai, Vietnamese and Mexican food.<br />
- Netflix <br />
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Things I will not miss?<br />
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- Most fast food joints<br />
- medical bills<br />
- car insurance <br />
- American evangelical politics<br />
- middle-class cultural expectations<br />
- car culture<br />
- the mommy bubble<br />
<br />Kaciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06374573594800663980noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6503075388365865696.post-58713406543485226332014-03-27T00:31:00.000-05:002014-03-27T00:31:38.568-05:00The Adventure Around the CornerToday we worked out our international banking, took passport photos for the last stage of visa details, and brought home the Walmart ship-to-store suitcases that we ordered.<br />
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There are boxes all over, and things in small piles. It's getting a bit stressful.<br />
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We heard that our future co-workers just got their visas, which means ours might be coming soon. This is what we want, but when we heard it we looked at each other with panic in our eyes because there is so much to do. <br />
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It feels like things are about to get real. This whole packing-everything-you-own-and-taking-two-small-children-across-the-world thing is a little big crazy.<br />
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As I work on all of these details, I have moments when I remember. Arriving in Indonesia is one of my very first memories, if not THE first memory. It was hot and humid. We were in a line, I assume for customs. It was unfamiliar, I was grumpy after the international flight. I remember waking up that night in a guesthouse. Everything was dark and yet I was wide awake and hungry. Mom and Dad fed us airplane cracker packets.<br />
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I don't remember life before those moments, but my parents were actually married for six years before they moved to Indonesia. How odd is it that to our kids, the nearly nine years of marriage and six years in Dallas and another six in Chicago will be.... meaningless? It will be pre-history to them. This move we are making here will likely be... their lives.<br />
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My first years in Indonesia were spent in Western Indonesia, before we moved to Papua. I remember our little house with a metal post fence and a man named JoJo who functioned as a night watchman. I went to an Indonesian pre-school where we wore uniforms and I got away with a lot because I was a bossy oldest child and likely the teachers were afraid to tell me no. I learned Indonesian instinctively, and I remember knowing things my parents didn't. I learned songs that today I sing as lullaby's to my kids. We took rickshaws to get around.<br />
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We slept on beds with long pillows and just sheets. I learned to enjoy sleeping on the tile floor when it was hot. My mom started to learn to cook some Indonesian things. She adapted Indonesian rice porridge to American tastes by cooking it with cinnamon and sweetened condensed milk instead of salt and peanuts. I made it this morning for Judah.<br />
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How much of this move will be like going back to the place I grew up? Will this be home? Will it be home to my children? Will it ever be home to my husband?<br />
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These questions are in my head, but I am not carrying them heavily. There is no end to the angsty wrestling with "home" and stability in a TCK's life. Instead I just go because of calling and vocation and love and service. How it feels, how relationships are built, and if it ever feels like home, well... that will pan out.<br />
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I will treat it all as a grand adventure. For me. For us. For our kiddos. We are getting on an airplane with two small people, our fellow passengers will hate us, our first few days in the middle of jet lag will be insanity, and then we will begin a new daily life in the tropics of Java.<br />
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I smile as I picture it in my head. What an adventure. I am excited. I and scared. But mostly excited. Kaciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06374573594800663980noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6503075388365865696.post-5604659790751126472014-03-24T00:15:00.002-05:002014-03-24T00:15:32.316-05:00A stop to smell the roses of this stage of life<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I am a stop-to-smell-the-roses kind of a person. One of the tough things about this stage of life for me is that there is so little time to stop and treasure the small things.<br />
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Tonight we skyped my family and it's always such a trip, those moments. There are so many good conversations I want to have but mostly we just try to catch up on the big things, raising our voices and trying to hear each other over the whirlwind that is my crazy household with two littles.<br />
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I read this post today, which is titled "<a href="http://mcmemorykeeper.wordpress.com/2014/03/23/about-a-boy/">About a Boy</a>" and is written by my sister Michelle about our brother Matt for World Down Syndrome day. I read it aloud to Isaac and we laughed and I got teary and we marveled over the photos and you just have to go read it. Because my brother is remarkable and my sister writes with her heart and family is such a beautiful thing.<br />
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I think that when we love other people, it spreads. Michelle's love for Matt seeped out of that blog post and I ended up sitting on the bed with my Elly for a solid 15 minutes, delaying bedtime, just delighting in her, in those delicious cheeks, in the enormous blue eyes she was batting at me, in the way she holds on to my fingers and sweater and cooed and chirped like a bird, delighted to have extra minutes of my attention rather than be put down for bed. She is breathtaking.<br />
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We went shopping, all of us, and as I pushed the cart around Judah stacked up canned goods with running commentary, "Mommy, you see it? Dis a small one, and dis a bigger one. You see it? Ta da!" And at the candy aisle, "Oohh dats so yummy. In my mouth. *to himself* No. Dats not yours." And at checkout he singsonged to himself, "I love you daddy and mommy and baby and Judah. I a stinker. A kinker."<br />
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He just is growing up and the thoughts are coming out and vocabulary expanding. And yeah, this whole three years old thing is hard for me, because I'd really love if we could just stop and smell the roses together rather than run in circles screaming and testing every boundary. But then, he's also just delightful, in his discovery of the world around him, his intensity of play, his need to 'nuggle (snuggle) on the couch together after he finishes breakfast.<br />
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We left Walmart giggling in amazement that I'd seen a woman actually walk out in her underwear (for reals) and the cashier told us about the one "actually healthy" dating relationship at her high school, and how the guy proposed at prom. We loaded up the car and Isaac and I ran around it, him trying to lock me out and me trying to get in before he managed it, both of us laughing and hey, we've been married eight and a half years and we're still flirting. Only now there's a little boy in the back seat saying, "What you doin mommydaddy? What you doin?"<br />
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So, I'm catching a few minutes to smell the roses tonight. We are such a mess. The house is a mess. Our schedule is a mess. We're constantly just treading water, trying to keep this house of littles going and headed towards Indonesia. But look at us. These are the days we will look back to, back to when we were young and our kids were young, to when there were feather soft cheeks to kiss and a little boy talking about when we "go to 'nesia". Sometimes we're just hanging on by our fingernails, but oh, thank you Jesus, for the all of this. <br />
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Who needs roses when you have baby cheeks and milk breath? Kaciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06374573594800663980noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6503075388365865696.post-9790314745950005812014-03-10T17:51:00.002-05:002014-03-10T17:51:46.247-05:00On being bold and brave.... and learning to drive a stick shiftI learned to drive our stick shift. <div>
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Guys. You don't know what this means. I am not one to whom driving comes naturally. It has marked a point of fear in my life. </div>
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When I was 16 I was in the US and was put through the usual American teenager rigmarole of taking driver's education, putting in hours of driving practice, and moving towards getting a license. I hated it. I was sunk into myself, insecure in general and avoiding anything that put me out of my comfort zone. Driving was yet another new and scary thing, along with just about everything else I was encountering by moving back to the US. And so, when I resisted doing the last of my practice hours, my mom gave me the option of finishing them up and getting my license, or going back to Indonesia without a license and having to wait until I came back for college. </div>
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Yeah, that one. The one where I don't have to be challenged or do the hard thing. That's the one I want. </div>
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In fact, that's usually the one I want. I had a moment of realization a few weeks back. My Bible study group was going through <u>Stuck</u> by Jennie Allen, and I was feeling disconnected from the chapter on fear. It addressed worry, and I'm generally not a worrier. I don't feel a lot of anxiety about most things. </div>
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But then I thought about the whole driving thing. I avoided getting my license till I was about 20 (college in the big city where everyone takes trains!), and I didn't really drive consistently until I got a car here in Dallas. Note... that was like three years ago. I would say, "I hate driving" but what was really true is that I was afraid, and so I avoided it. New things, intimidating things.... I just avoid them and then I don't have to feel anxiety and worry. I've never in my life taken a dare. My brother and my mom may jump out of an airplane or run a marathon, but me, I stick with the things I know I'm good at. </div>
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My name, Kacie, is adapted from the name Casey, which means "bold or brave".<br />I've always wondered about that. It seems so ill-fitting. I believe names are meaningful, and can be prophetic. What does it mean that my name means bold when I am so not bold? </div>
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To put it bluntly, I have been a fearful person, managing to not feel the fear (worry and anxiety) by simply avoiding anything that was new, uncomfortable, or scary. I didn't look fearful because I avoided hard things. This is a revelation to me. </div>
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In January I started to learn to drive our stick shift, which I had avoided/refused to do for years. It was what I dreaded. It took me time to pick it up, and we had several times when I was stalled at a light or intersection, trying and trying to get the car going in first, shaking and dying again and again. The people-pleaser in me just dies as the cars line up behind us, some honking, and we went through literally three rounds of lights. TERRIBLE. I murmured, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" over and over again - lol. </div>
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But I knew that if I pushed through, I'd adjust. That's what I've learned over the past few years. Scary things, hard things, they are real, and they really are that bad sometimes. But we have a remarkable capacity to adjust, and if you push through it's not always going to be as bad or as hard as it is at first or for a while.</div>
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Another thing happened this Spring. I'm a Yelp Elite member, and have been for years. It just sort of happened, and didn't mean anything except that I reviewed places I visited. Eventually I discovered there was a whole social networking component of Yelp, and that there were events and parties for Elite members. I was intrigued and .... totally avoided it. I went to one Elite event. There were tons of people there. I people watched and then left. I was new in Dallas and (looking back I realize) deeply insecure about who I was within this culture. I avoided most interactions where I couldn't be a wallflower. I said I didn't get the culture and that I was an introvert, but I think much more than that, I was just insecure. Afraid. </div>
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This Spring I have been looking for ways that I can slip out for some social connection away from the kiddos occasionally and I wanted to intentionally avoid just doing one more church activity. I really believe in living amidst my community. And beyond that, something is different in me. I am not afraid anymore. I think motherhood and a spiritual journey did this to me. Yelp was a natural fit, and I started going to a few get-togethers, making friends, and chatting with people. </div>
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Ya'll. It's just fun. I am having a blast. These are people from all different backgrounds, strangers, gathered around food and restaurants and exploring this city. That is SO me. And it's easy. From the first moment I could recognize that this was a socially awkward type of situation (strangers gathering and making small talk) and yet I feel so ... normal. So able to just chat, laugh, get to know people. I don't think it would be notable at all except that it is in such contrast to who I was in my first years here in Dallas. </div>
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So you know? I think... I grew up. </div>
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I'm able to reach out. I'm able to see beyond my fear. </div>
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I'm able to just live.... and drive a stick shift... and grab lunch with new friends. </div>
Kaciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06374573594800663980noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6503075388365865696.post-52210206992929283102014-03-04T19:35:00.002-06:002014-03-04T19:35:50.402-06:00Sending my Three Month Old in for Cleft Repair Surgery<br />Last month we took Elly to Medical City Dallas to have her soft palate repaired. Though we'd been reassured that it was a fairly simple surgery, I was still nervous. It meant putting a baby under anesthesia. I'd also heard comments about "bad repairs", and so I knew that repairs could be done well or not so well, and that how well it was done would affect her speech later on. In that last week I took her everywhere with me, even if others were available to watch her. I just didn't want my peaceful sweetheart far from my side.<br />
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The morning of surgery Elly was mad as h*** to be awakened early and not fed. I figured she'd be a screaming baby for three hours until they put her under. I was completely amazed that after falling asleep in the car on the way to the hospital she woke up when we arrived at the hospital and was calm and smiley and wiggly and delightful all through the waiting period. In the pre-op area I was walking with her and she fell fast asleep in my arms five minutes before they came to take her. I got to pass a sleeping baby off to the nurse with no trauma. I really feel like people were praying in those moments, and God answered.<br />
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Across from us an 8 year old boy was going in for a repair on his palate, and he and his mom both showed cleft lip repairs. Next to us was a toddler with multiple symptoms who was going in to sew up a repair that had reopened. She had a seizure while waiting in pre-op. I was reminded that Elly's cleft is relatively simple.<br />
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Elly was in surgery for a few hours. Coming to her in post-op was the most traumatic part of surgery. She was completely limp and white as a sheet, her hair and scalp orange from a disinfectant that they put all over her head. Her mouth was bloody, tubes and wires all over her, and her tongue had a stitch in it that was taped to her chin to keep her from swallowing it. That's where I almost cried, but instead held my limp baby for hours as the nurses tried to wake her and she stayed firmly under the anesthesia for longer than they expected. That was okay with me because everyone comes out of anesthesia miserable and fighting. When she eventually did start to come out of it, she was manageable but oh so sad. Over the course of that day and the next two, the hardest thing was when she would wake up and her eyes would go wide with pain and shock. At first all she would do was give terrible soft moans, clearly afraid to use her mouth, swallow, etc. I don't blame her. They'd sewed up everything in the back!<br />
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I stayed that night in the hospital with Elly, spending most of the time
swaying with her, because the only thing she wanted was to be held by
momma. My back and shoulder were so sore by the time we went home, but
oh, that's all I wanted to do. Just take care of her. It was a relief to
have the IV and monitors taken off so that she was at least cord free. It was a surreal night, mostly awake but sometimes dozing in the dark with her carefully cradled, avoiding pulling on all the cords, with my phone and kindle and water and pump in arms reach. There are a lot of nights watches as a mother, and it is a constant conversation of prayer for her.</div>
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<span data-reactid=".r[2].[0].[0].[0].[0].[0].[0]"><span data-reactid=".r[2].[0].[0].[0].[0].[0].[0].[1].[1].[0].[0].[0].[0].[1].[2][1]"><span data-reactid=".r[2].[0].[0].[0].[0].[0].[0].[1].[1].[0].[0].[0].[0].[1].[2][1].[0]">But
you, Lord, are a shield around me, my glory, the One who lifts my head
high. I call out to the Lord, and he answers me from his holy mountain. I
lie down and sleep; I wake again, because the Lord sustains me. Ps
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After the tough day at the hospital, the first few days of recovery were relatively easy because my mom was around helping us and Elly slept most of the time. A week in was harder. For ten days Elly could only eat from a syringe with a soft tube on the end, and she hated it and was not eating enough. That and the transition from prescription pain meds to Tylenol made her a very miserable girl for a couple of days. She was inconsolable all the time and we just took turns walking here as she cried and cried. Once she was back on bottles, she perked back up into happy Elly. She is healing well, but the surgeon is still watching to make sure it fully heals and doesn't reopen. <br />
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And.... the most amazing thing is that when the surgeon came to tell us about the surgery, he said they were able to fully close her palate. They had expected to close the soft palate and fix the hard palate at about two years old. Instead they were able to fully close the cleft with just soft palate tissue, and the only reason she'd need a second surgery is if it reopens or if her speech development later on requires it. I didn't even know that was possible (though Isaac seems to have understood, so maybe I just missed something??), and I am SO thankful. <br />
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Kaciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06374573594800663980noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6503075388365865696.post-5905088716841613212013-08-30T16:36:00.002-05:002013-08-30T16:36:27.161-05:00Challenging the Middle Class Assumptions of How We LiveA friend recently told me that Isaac and I are a picture for them of how to live differently than the norm around them. I laughed. Most of our choices are simply a product of our income level or growing up with an unusual background, not because we are so intentionally counter-cultural. <br />
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But, you know, it's sometimes even a gift to know what <b>can</b> be given up. Sometimes the only reason we even see another lifestyle option is that we grew up overseas, living or at least exposed to such a variety of lifestyles. If I'd grown up in totally in middle class America, a middle class American lifestyle would just be assumed. What I see as an issue for my peers is that we all see a certain lifestyle as being the minimum lifestyle to live at, and yet that level is set in our minds simply by our backgrounds and what we presume to be our right. And so sometimes we will struggle financially and with immense stress to maintain a certain kind of living because we don't realize a greater simplicity is okay. <br />
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It does need to be said that living at or above the norm isn't bad.
Living below the norm isn't the goal. If people have the funds to have a
beautiful house travel to and eat at amazing places, that is a gift. We are each responsible to evaluate what we have and what we are called to do with it. If I, at my income level and with my lifestyle choices, end up feeling sorry for myself and comparing myself to everyone else, well, it's a rather poor choice on my part rather than honorable simplicity. <br />
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<b>Do I really need a ..... </b><br />
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<ul>
<li><b>Car (or a car for each spouse)</b> - We bought our first car a year after we got married. I was 22. I'd never needed a car before, because I lived in downtown Chicago and took the train and bus everywhere. When we moved to Dallas I picked a job and apartment that put us within walking distance of public transportation, knowing that we still couldn't afford a second car. People around me were amazed - this is a car culture. Honest truth? While it put me in contact with a whole hidden section of society and gave the opportunity for amazing conversations, it was kind of miserable. This culture is built around cars, and I felt trapped by the inability to join a group at my church or run out for groceries without having to walk for miles. My car (which we found on Craigslist four years ago for a small amount of cash) gave up the ghost this week and we are looking for a two-month replacement, because based on where we currently live and the responsibilities we currently have, we have to have two cars. I totally think it's better to live near work and avoid driving if possible. It's just hard to do. </li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li> <b>A House </b>- It's kind of amazing for me to watch the way my generation here in Dallas just ... buys a house. It's what people do. It's not really an option for us, we always knew this place was temporary. It's true, home-buying can be the best investment, and renting is pouring out your money every month with no long-term investment. However, buying a home isn't <i>always </i>profitable, and I think some people buy simply because it's what you do and because they want the space and the stuff that comes with setting up your own home, not because it's the best financial decision for them. I have a few friends that have intentionally chosen to continue living in small apartments. It's not easy for them. Not having the space or being able to host or decorate as you want is totally counter-cultural here. It can also be a really good and healthy choice.</li>
</ul>
<b></b><br />
<ul>
<li><b>A house in a good neighborhood with a good school system -</b> Can I tell you a pet peeve of mine? The assumption that one must buy in a nice place near people that are of your income level and in a school system that is respected. I gotta say, whatever happened to choosing to live on mission, transforming the world around us? Diverse communities, poor communities, communities with refugees and immigrants, communities with struggling school systems.... you and your family can go and live there, love your neighbors, your schools, your kids' friends. You know that <a href="http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2013/august-web-only/non-christians-who-dont-know-christians.html">20% of non-Christians in North America don't know any Christians</a>? And I can't tell you how many of my Christian friends say they don't know any non-Christians. That's because we surround ourselves with people like ourselves. Our housing choices betray our ultimate priorities - comfort, material progress, etc. </li>
</ul>
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<ul>
<li><b>Cable -</b> Okay, easy one. I know lots of people giving up cable these days. Except for sports events and awards shows, you don't miss much. Netflix rules.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><b>A Smart Phone</b> - I think this is the new cable - the luxury we pay lots of money for monthly because we feel disconnected from the world without it. Isaac and I still have old phones and it is totally possible to do this and avoid exorbitant costs of paying for a data plan and phone repairs/replacements. I now have a $10 data plan that allows me to connect sometimes and look up directions, but Isaac's phone can't even do that. However, it makes it hard to text and there are SO many times that I want to just look something up on the net. We are active on social media and so much of that is done through phones, so we've absolutely had "fancy phone" envy. Now that we know we can buy a phone here and use it overseas, we'll give in soon. But... it <b>is</b> possible to buy a crappy old school phone rather than pay hundreds for a good smart phone. </li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><b>Internet and a Computer -</b> Actually, I have had Internet and a computer since I was in middle school. I don't know what it is to live without it and I don't really want to find out. I know I could, and it's possible, but... that's totally a luxury I subconsciously think I'm entitled to.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><b>A Nursery </b>- A matching, beautifully set up nursery with pinterest-inspired decor. This is an example of our individualistic culture - we think each
individual needs their own space, and it's what I'm comfortable with as
well. However, our kiddo slept in our room for the first year of his life, and has slept in the living room or laundry room since. He still sleeps in a pack-n-play and has never had a crib or toddler bed. I worried he'd grow out of it all by this time, but he hasn't. He doesn't really know the difference. I wake him up when I go to the kitchen to make breakfast, and sure, it would be more convenient if all of his toys were in his own space instead of stacked on our living room bookshelves. But, since we have no other option.... we make it work. </li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><b>Eating Out </b>- Like the Internet/computer option, this one is an area where we do not set an example of living differently, but I could point you to some friends of ours who do so well at cooking and eating simply and at home. Currently I work in the day and nearly all of our commitments are about 45 minutes or more away from our home, which means that our evening and weekend commitments leave us far from the kitchen. Eating out is so expensive, though, not to mention generally more unhealthy. In a culture of convenience, it's so easy to end up eating out and spending more than we intended to when we created our budget. </li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li><b> New Clothes</b> - I love new clothes. However, I'm also totally satisfied with new-to-me clothes, and so thrift stores have kept me happy with far less cost. However, I do think that there's a thrift-store hippie culture that is just as prideful and arrogant about their cheap clothing finds as they accuse the wealthy for being about their brand name clothes, which sort of defeats the intent of simple living, yes? </li>
</ul>
I could go on... but... I'm out. Anything to add? <br />
<br />Kaciehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06374573594800663980noreply@blogger.com3